hope in our eyes || 37th hunger games ✔️

Hope From a Costume

Mackenzie

I yelp as steaming hot water suddenly gets poured over my head.

"Sorry dear!" Chirps the green-haired women who's currently washing my hair.

As soon as our train arrived in the Capitol, River and I were whisked away to this place they call the Remake Center to be washed, plucked, and scrubbed for the Tribute Parade tonight.

I hold in a tear as another women with at least fifteen earrings in each ear rips up a section of hair from my leg. Ugh. Why do they care so much? In, like, three days I'm just gonna die.

Finally, after three hours of beauty treatments they announce that I'm ready to meet my stylist.

They leave and a man, probably in his late thirties, enters the room. He has light aqua hair and weird green eyebrows. His outfit consists of tight black pants and boots, and a long, lose, rainbow shirt. It's an ugly outfit. But obviously I don't say that aloud since he's supposedly going to help me get sponsors, which will hopefully keep me alive. He looks me up and down before handing me a robe and inviting me to sit.

"So." He says, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of us. "You must be Mackenzie. I'm Landon."

"Yeah." I say.

"Well, you're very pretty. With a little makeup and a decent outfit we'll make you so beautiful that everyone in the Capitol will want to sponsor you!"

"Thanks..." I say. "But I don't know..."

"C'mon dear!" He says merrily "You do want to stay alive, don't you?"

Even being from the Capitol, he must have realized that comment hurt, because his face softens and he reaches out to grab my hand.

"I'm sorry." He says. I know he is, but I can't help but think he's just like everyone else here. All nice until we go into the arena and they bet on us like we're items.

"It's fine." I mutter, looking down at my lap.

He stands up and walks to a rack in the corner where a garment bag in hanging.

"Close your eyes." He instructs after I've taken off my robe.

I hear him unzip the bag and then the soft fabric slides over me. He goes around, tugging at the fabric and then steps away.

"You can open your eyes." He says. I do.

I turn to face the mirror and my jaw drops. Usually, since District 8 specializes in textiles, the tributes are wearing some brightly colored, over the top costume. But not this one. Landon has dressed me in a slightly strange costume, but it's loads better than other ones I've seen. It's what I can only describe as a peach colored gown, except at the top there's layers of this stuff that kind or resembles burlap, but it's much softer.

"You look beautiful!" Landon announces. "The sponsors will be flocking to you!"

I drop my head and my fingers play with Devin's necklace.

"Dearie, what's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"No, of course I love it." I say.

"Then don't look so dead in the eyes. Sponsors won't like that. You need hope. Not luck, but hope. Hope is the thing that will get you through these games."