"Allies?" "Always."

Chapter 5

The warm pad is placed on my jaw is actually comforting. Maybe this won't be as bad as Haymitch said it would be. RI-I-IP! I grit my teeth as a tall man named Rance rips it off of my face. "Ow." I complain and rub my cheek. I haven't shaved in about a week, but there is no hair on the spot. "How did you do that?" I question.

"It's called waxing." He teaches. "It's where there is a liquid on this cloth that you put on hairy skin, wait for it to harden, then rip it off. It removes the hair and keeps it off for at least 6 months."

One of my other prep team members named Feelsha readies another cloth. She has a heavy frame and dark blue, almost black hair. I'm suprised that her eyelashes don't get tangled up when she blinks. They are neon pink and curl up to touch her forehead. "Here, Rance." She says in her over the top Capitol accent.

"Here comes number two." He says placing it on my other cheek. "Where's Powell?" He thinks out loud.

Just as his name is mentioned, a man with red hair that sticks up like a flame, yellow eyes, and white gloves on walks into the room. His appearance seems to pop out from the other two members. Feelsha isn't that bad, and Rance's neon green hair may be a little over the top, but not like Powell. "Here's your gloves." Feelsha hands him a pair of rubber gloves and he slips them on.

"But isn't he already wearing a pair?" I question. RIP! I grit my teeth again.

"Nope. Those are tatoos, Peeta." Rance informs me.

"How did he get his nails to disappear?" I ask.

Feelsha hands him a slightly smaller strip and he puts it above my lip. "I paint them." Powell says. "I redo them every day." I have to give him some credit for his dedication.

"I'll save that one until the end." Rance talks Feelsha and I. He finished up waxing my face. By far the most painful was the lip.

They wax my chest, stomach, arms, and back while they're at it. I take it back, the lip was nothing compared to that! They get to work fixing up my imperfections, plucking my eyebrows, bathing me not once, but three times, scrubbing me raw by the second, and trimming my hair up a little in the back. A woman comes into the room when they finish. My prep team leaves as she enters. "Hello, Peeta." She says. "I'm your stylist. Can you please stand and take off that gown?" I stand and shakely undo the knots in the back. The garment falls to the floor and a rush of freezing air hits my skin. A chill runs up my spine.

This moment is really uncomfortable to me. I don't like being naked in front of anyone, especially not a stranger. And definitely not in front of a woman. She walks around taking measurements of my body. When she's finished, she hands me a robe that will cover everything on my lower body. Thank God. "We need to talk, Peeta."

I fold it around me tightly before tying it rapidly in the front. "Come on." She asks me to follow her down the hall to an empty room overlooking the extravagant city. She presses a button on the table and a steamy, juicy steak appears on the table. "You look starved. Is your mouth watering?" She asks. I wipe my mouth.

"No, it's crying tears of joy." I explain.

She chuckles. "Take it."

"What?" I question. Is she giving this to me?

"Take it. I'll just order another one." She pushes the plate to my face.

"Thank you." I state, certainly appreciative of her charitable present.

"You're welcome." I grab a knife and a fork, digging into the tender meat, savoring every delicious bite. "So, Peeta. What do you think of when someone mentions fire?"