Hidden Behind a Mask of Makeup- A Hunger Games Fanfiction

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*All ideas are those of Suzanne Collins. This story is based of of her Book The Hunger Games and I own nothing*

sorry guys, I had no idea what to put for the copy right, can somebody help me out? 

This is my first story so enjoy!! And I know that in the book, they never mention anythin about one of the events that happens and I know that, it is just an idea I came up with :) 

thanks!!

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"Momma, why do we have the Hunger Game?"

"Well, sweetie, a long time ago, the Districts tried to fight against the Captiol and luckily, they were defeated. But they needed to learn their lesson, so The Hunger Games were created so those 12 Districts would never fight against the Capitol again."

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I look at myself in the vanity mirror in disgust. My face, powder pink, my baby blue hair, in the shape of a bow. I hate it! Why can't I be like the little girls in the districts, their long brown, blond, ginger hair hanging over their shoulders, or two braids bouncing as they walk in their ltille black shoes. But I can't be like that. I am from the Capitol. My hair is a different colour every week and never left to be naturel. At the age of 14, I am already in 6 inch heels. 

 "Time to go love." My nanny peeks in her ghost white face which is surrounded by a fluffy cloud of deep purple and pink highlights. Since my father is a game maker, almost never home due to work and my mother is a District escort, my nanny, Mirage is like a second mother to me. She will be escorting me to tonight's "special" events

I stand up, almost tipping in my heels that are covered in real diamonds. 

Tonight is the Tribute parade for the 50th Hunger Games. The second quarter quell. And the feast for the tributes, game makers and their families, and the man I dread seeing every day, President Snow.

Mirage and I find our seats in the VIP section, we have the seats in the city circle, below where the President and Game Makers sit. I tuck my short sparkly dress and trillion layers of multi-coloured tulle under my long legs and take my seat. The entry music starts and I try to get comfortable as I die of boredom.

District 1 is now entering with 4 tributes instead of the usual two. To "celebrate" every 25 years of The Hunger Games, the Capitol puts some sick twist on the Games. This year, there are double the tributes. This should be fun...

District 2 now enters, the District that my mother escorts. She must be proud, sending these innocent kids to kill each other, trained to be murderers. District after District, innocent children are paraded past the ignorant Capitol people. Finally the last District is emerging, District 12. But something catches my eye. He catches my eye. The older boy from District 12. He is not happy and I can tell. He looks bored really. He looks arrogant and stuck up, probably full of himself thinking he can do anything! Thankfully this stupid parade is almost over.

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At least they have my favourite drink at this lame party. The only good thing about the Capitol is the food and drinks. The entry music starts and I join my father near the bottom of the stairs along with the rest of the game makers. District 1 is first, as always. First, the four stylists (one for each of the four instead of 2 Tributes), the escort and mentor and finally; the Tributes. When District 2 comes, my mother walks down the stairs in a puffy gold and red gown and her hair tucked in a tulle head piece. Once she is down the stairs, she joins us and presses shiny gold lips to my forehead.

"Hello dear." She says in a cheery voice.

"Hello, mother." I try to sound excited, if my parents new how much I hated all of this, I would be badly punished.

We stand together and watch as the rest of the stylists, mentors, escorts and Tributes walk down the stairs. There he is again, that boy from District 12. He smiles at the girl beside him as they walk to the music but I can still see the arrogant look in his eyes. 

When the Tribute entrance is finished, go sit in the window-seal. The view of the city circle isn't all that great but I'd rather not socialize with the party-goers. 

"Why aren't you dancing with the other kids?" A male voice comes at me from the side. 

I don't turn from the window. 

"I am not much of a dancer, sorry" I say to the glass. But in the reflection, I don't see an older boy covered in makeup and an outrages suit. It's him. The one that is always catching my eye. I stand and face him. He is about half a foot taller then me, even with my 6 inch heels.

"Besides, this party is lame and am not a kid!"  I say, trying not to laugh at the smirk on his face.

"Whatever you say, Goldy." 

"What are you talking about?" I ask trying to hide my extreme confusion.

He taps the top of his forehead a couple of times with his finger and at first I don't understand what he is trying to tell me. And then it clicks. I rub the spot on my forehead where he gestured and rub vigorously. When I remove my fingers, I find them smugged with gold. 

He laughs at me and a decide to laugh along. He really isn't that bad.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks. A slow song has just started and couples, mostly older people from the capitol.

"First, tell me your name, and then maybe I will think about it." I say with a flirty smile.

He smiles back, "Haymitch.".

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sorry the first part is short, I would just like a little bit of feedback :D

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 09, 2013 ⏰

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