Too Clever

Chapter 4

     The next morning, I wake up to the sound of knocking at my door.
"Wake up!" comes Cordelia's obnoxious voice. "It's going to be an exciting day today!"
Great, I think. Today I will have to meet my prep team and get ready for the chariot ride through the City Circle tonight. I'm really not looking forward to this.
"Okay, I'll be right there," I moan. I roll myself out of bed and lazily get dressed in a white shirt and soft black pants. Then I meet Cordelia in the dining room for breakfast.
I see Alec catch my eye and wave at me. I turn around, not waving back. I avoid making eye contact with him all throughout the meal. Instead, I focus on the food, which consists of scrambled eggs, sausage, and delicious, crispy hash browns I can't get enough of.
     After breakfast, Alec and I are taken to the prepping center on the outskirts of the City Circle to get ready for the opening ceremonies.
"Oh, they're going to make you look exquisite!" pipes up Cordelia once we get there. "There's so much to do before the opening ceremonies tonight! You two are going to look dashing!"
Why are we here so early? What could they possibly do to us that takes a whole day? I can't even imagine what's in store for me.
As soon as we get through the door, a woman—I'm guessing she's part of my prep team—flutters up to us. She looks rather strange. She is dressed in all green, from her six-inch heels to her flowery little dress to her puffy hair. On top of that, her skin is died rosy pink, covered in a light layer of elegant sparkles. She wears the same rosy pink eye shadow and lip stick, which looks very out of place in the pool of ever-lasting green. She looks like what I can only describe as a fairy.
     "Oh, you're here at last! We couldn't wait another minute!" she exclaims. "You must be Fleta. Well, I'm Flora, and I'm here to make you, dear, look your very best! I've been a member of the prep team for six years now, so you're clearly in great hands!"
     Everything she says is so enthusiastic, even when the situation so clearly doesn't call for it. Doesn't she know I'm about to be shipped off to the Hunger Games? It's extremely impolite, in my opinion.
     I reach out to shake her hand and say, "Pleased to meet you. I'm Fleta."
     "Oh, I know," squeals Flora. She obviously can't wait to get started on fixing me up. What are these people going to do to me?
     Another member of my prep team comes strutting up to us. He is dressed in a pale white and blue suit, reminding me of the ocean. Of course, I've never actually seen the ocean in person; I've seen images of it in the picture books I used to read as a child. The man also has a silvery-blue handlebar mustache that curls up perfectly at the tips. But this is not even remotely strange compared to his hair. He has a single, giant blue barrel curl on the top of his head, like a huge cresting wave right before it crashes over into foam. It looks absolutely ridiculous, and I have to turn around for a second to compose myself.
     "Hello, Fleta. I'm Nixon," says the man. He has a much deeper voice than I expected.
     "Hello," I reply. "Nice to meet you."
     The third member of my prep team arrives and says, "Uh, I had to get ready in only one hour today! One hour, do you believe that?"
     Shouldn't one hour be more than enough to get ready? This woman is despicable. She's worrying about what she looks like—ironic coming from a Capitol citizen, where all they do here is make themselves look like fake, exaggerated mannequins—when I'm standing there getting ready to fight to the death only days from now. I can't believe these people of the Capitol.
     Suddenly, she looks at me, as if she's just noticing I'm there, and says, "I'm sorry, dear. It's just that...on some days...oh, no matter. It won't effect how well I do my job on you, now, will it?"
     "Um, no. I guess not," I say, putting a red lock of hair behind my ear.
     "Oh, and by the way, I'm Chloe," the woman adds. She looks ridiculous, just like the other members of my prep team. She's in a dark pink dress with giant, bulging sleeves and her face is painted completely white; this seems to be a trend here in the Capitol. The only exception is her lips, which are the same color as her dress. Her fake eyelashes glitter gold in the light, just adding to the completely artificial look. To top it off, a headdress sits on her elaborate, orangey wig, flaring out like a giant fan.
Is this what they're planning on doing to me? I think. I've seen what they've done to tributes in the past. If you didn't know exactly what you were watching, you would think that the opening ceremony is some kind of fashion show. One year, the pair of tributes form District 12 showed up completely naked and covered in a thick layer of coal dust to represent their district's industry of coal mining. That certainly did nothing to win over the crowd.
     My prep team takes me to one of the back rooms, where there are so many soaps, creams, moisturizers, shampoos, and oils that I feel immediately lightheaded. It smells like flowers, freshly cut grass, vanilla, and many more incredible smells clashed together only to make an overpowering stench.

                          **********

     The next few hours are nearly unbearable. I get plucked, waxed, greased down, and shaved until I have no hair on my body except for on my head and my eyebrows. I feel like a sheared sheep.
     Next, Chloe puts me in a tub of some oily substance that smells of sour apples. I sit there for a while soaking in it, and when I get out, my skin feels as soft as a pillow.
     Throughout the process, the members of my prep team try to be encouraging and say things like, "Now, you don't feel like an animal," or "you almost look human."
     These people...
     The whole time, I am naked. I fight the urge to cover myself, but my prep team really doesn't seem to care. This is their job. They've even doing this for a while now, so naked bodies aren't new to them.
All three of them have specific jobs to do. Flora cuts, files, and shapes my nails into perfect oval tips and paints them with a very sparkly silver. Nixon smooths my arms and legs down with yet another lotion that smells of strawberries. Chloe touches up my hair, snipping off all of my little flyaways.
Finally, Nixon says, "We're all done!"
"Oh, we did such a great job on you!" exclaims Chloe.
"You finally look ready for the opening ceremonies tonight!" adds Flora. I don't know how to respond. They completely transformed me into something else. Why can't I just look like myself?
I know deep down that they're just trying to help me, so I say, "Thank yo for all your hard work."
"You're so welcome, dear," replies Chloe. "Now, let's get you to your stylist!"
For the next five minutes, I sit in a little room to wait for my stylist. I wonder what she's going to do. The prep team already got everything done; at least that's what I assumed.
The door opens and yet another outrageously dressed woman struts into the room. She's wearing an electric blue dress that ruffles into hot pink frills. Most of the dress is covered in a rather thick coat of glitter that catches the light when she turns. She is sporting a pair of extremely long gloves that go up to the middle of her forearm and a black, board-straight wig with hot pink and blue streaks. I don't know how she's not tripping on her huge heels.
"Hello," she says. "I'm your stylist, Rhea. If you could just remove your robe, please..."
Remove my robe? Again?
"Um, but didn't my prep team already do everything possible?" I say. I would rather not take my robe off in front of anyone else today.
"Well, I have to make sure they did everything right, now, don't I?" says Rhea. "We wouldn't want to have you looking out of sorts on live television, right?"
"But—"
"Just remove your robe, please," Rhea says, getting a little agitated. It's not worth the argument anymore, so I reluctantly take off my robe and set it on the chair I was sitting on earlier. I stand there for another five minutes as Rhea stares me down, taking in every inch of me from head to toe. I feel incredibly uncomfortable and fight the urge again to cover myself, but it's not going to change anything. It certainly won't stop me from being a tribute the Games.
"Alright, I think I know exactly what to do with you," says Rhea. "You're going to look lovely tonight!"
"Okay," I reply. "Um, thank you."
Your very welcome, darling," Rhea says. "Now, how about we go get some lunch."

                          **********

     At exactly 8:00, Cordelia escorts Alec and I to the City Circle. The opening ceremonies start at 9:00, so we will have an hour to get dressed and ready.
     "Close your eyes!" says Nixon. So I close my eyes and Chloe helps me into my dress Rhea designed. It's very uncomfortable and itchy, and I immediately want to get out of it. This is going to be a very long hour.
     "Open them!" exclaims Flora excitedly. I open my eyes and look in the mirror. Rhea has designed a sliver dress for me with so much glitter you could see me from a mile away. But that's not nearly the worst part. Nixon makes me put on a matching cone-like decoration around my neck; it looks like a dog's cone. I think Rhea was going for some type of solar panel, which somewhat makes sense since our district's industry is generating power for the country. Either way, it's extremely itchy, and it irritates my neck when I turn my head even the slightest. There's absolutely no way I can last an hour in this outfit, let alone five minutes.
     A piece of glitter falls into my eye, and I hope it doesn't make it look red or teary. Wouldn't want to look like I'm crying.
I put on matching silver flats. Then my prep team does my makeup, which is also silvery. But they don't overdo it too much, which is a plus.
Finally, I'm sitting in the chariot, Alec by my side, and the giant doors open onto the street. One by one, the chariots pull out into the City Circle. I can hear the people in the audience cheering for them. I've never heard anything like it. The people here are so excited to watch twenty-three of us die.
Then I feel our chariot begin to move. The world will be watching.