Flooding Panem: The Hunger Games

Chapter Eleven: Starting

From where I'm standing backstage, I can hear the crowd moving around excitedly in the audience. They haven't seen the tributes for a whole week at this point, only the scores and reruns of the Reapings and Opening Ceremony. They'll be itching to see us up close, understand our personalities, or at least the personalities our mentors have given us. In the Districts, many will be watching with equally great anticipation, but not for the same reasons. They'll be waiting to see if their friends have been changed by the week in the Capitol, if there seems to be any chance that a certain friends will win. Of course, my family may have given up already; I wouldn't blame them. Polla still has hope though, and that might just be the end of her.

I'm waiting with Marvel, who's wearing a wonderful black suit studded with tiny diamonds and sapphires and golden fish-shaped buttons. Nothing too similar to my dress. Obviously. I catch sight of Rosalina and Parox, avoiding eye contact with the latter. I can't help but blame him for my crappy score. Call it juvenile, but if I don't get any sponsors and I end up dying of hunger or thirst, there's no way in hell I'm taking all that blame on myself. Most of it will go to the Capitol, but some can be placed on him.

Like the rest of the male tributes, he's wearing a suit with a twist- in his case, it's a deep crimson with glass buttons and purple gemstones spotted all over it. The outfits on the female tributes are the unique ones, the ones worth looking at. Rosalina is wearing a floor length dress, rather princess-y in style, of a dark violet hue, with a parting down the front revealing an underskirt coated in onyx stones. If we meet up in the Arena, I'll make sure to ask her how much it weighs.

The crew come backstage to invite us all forward. We line up and proceed onto the stage in an orderly fashion. As I sit, back straight and lips smiling, I examine the crowd. Already they're pointing out the various tributes who've caught their eyes. I spot a pair of teenagers in the second row of seats, looking and laughing at me. Teenagers. Not even adults, teenagers, who are probably the same age as some of us on this stage. It's sick.

But I ensure that what I'm feeling doesn't show. I smile at a point on the wall so that I don't have to look at the citizens themselves, occasionally glancing offstage. I can see Caeser Flickerman standing in the wings, adjusting his midnight sparkling suit periodically. His hair and lips are yellow this year, nothing too disturbing, though the yellow lips make him look ill. Returning my gaze to the audience, I locate the mentors, escorts and stylists. All of them are in boxes raised to the height of the top of the stage, about ten metres above the crowd, a good twenty metres away from the apron of the stage itself. It's easy enough to find Laxina and Jareo, much to my relief.

I'm running through the plan in my head when we're suddenly on air. I look up at the crowd, smiling at them while half watching Caeser, who has started cracking jokes. Finally, he gestures towards the end of the row and calls up Satin. She's wearing a dress of eponymous fabric, a tight, emerald green thing with a slit on the side all the way up to her hip, revealing a sapphire garter and ridiculously high glittering heels. Her hair falls in large, beautiful curls to the middle of her back. She leans forward in her seat, showing off her cleavage, throwing herself at Caeser and the audience while simultaneously flexing her muscles. She pretends to be a dumb blonde, but anyone can tell that she's faking it every time she laughs. As she returns to her seat I hear wolf whistles among the applause.

As the interviews go on, I realise that I don't want to know the names being called out. Not when I'm going to have to kill them. Jupiro, I know. But it carries on. Laurel from District Two, a Career and the youngest of four, and her district partner Elthen, the eldest of three. The jokes that they make are downright nasty, but the audience loves it. Then the tributes from three, Thalia and Marcus. Then me.

"And now, please welcome Lilia Brooks from District Four!"

And while the audience cheers, I can hear the murmurs and groans. But from many, I hear gasps of wonderment at my dress. After all, in spite of my score, they can't deny the fact that I look stunning. I walk easily, lightly over to the centre and shake hands with Caeser with a smile. As I sit, I pause for the slightest moment, and then twirl gently to one side to place my hand on the armrest, and to the other as I sit down. Out of the corner of my eye I see the golden light brighten from the movement, and I can hear further gasps from the audience. Catching Jareo's eye, I'm relieved to see him giving me a thumbs up. And least he doesn't think I'm a failure.