lost | the hunger games

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❝if you ain't scared, you ain't human.❞

alby, maze runner

☾

My stylist, Ines, put me in a loose and layered enough dress that the audience couldn't see my drastic weight loss. Two strips of slightly transparent fabric ran down from the shoulders of my dress down to a sewed silk wrapped around my wrists. It was made from fabrics of champagne colors. A tiny but significant crown of pearls and dead coral glistened atop my head with the rest of it hidden underneath my shiny brown waves of hair. It was like they were trying to make me apart of the Capitol.

I was disgusted.

But I could tell Ines was trying to downplay it as much as possible—for my sake. And I was grateful, truly. My stylist stepped back to admire her work. "You're ready."

I looked through the mirror to Ines, mustering up my most genuine expression. "Thank you, Ness, really."

She flipped her straight silver hair behind her flawless coffee colored shoulders. She shrugged like it was nothing, but I could see the pride in her eyes. "Of course, dear, now hurry up--all of Panem is waiting for you."

I gave her one last look before walking backstage where I was to wait for Caesar Flickerman to call me on stage.

"Now everyone, let's bring out our 72nd annual Hunger Games Victor, PALLAS BRIAR!"

I took a deep breath, putting on a smile before the cameras could even see me. I walked with pride and poise, making sure that I didn't look too intimidating or too innocent. I shouldn't look innocent. I just won the Hunger Games. No one ever does that without losing their innocence.

I shyly smiled and hugged Caesar. He was a full foot taller than me, with me being 5"2 and all. The amount of cheering from the audience probably made me go deaf at that moment. But I just smiled at the audience as I sat down.

"Oh, how wonderful it is to see you again, Pallas!" Caesar exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"Aw, Caesar, you're always such a dear."

He laughed heartily. "Thank you, thank you. Well--enough about me, let's talk about you. You are our youngest Hunger Games Victor in all of Panem!"

The crowd cheered. I hoped I was blushing.

"You know, Pallas, you beat Finnick Odair--he's such a charmer--" Caesar to a moment to fanboy to the camera. "--by just one year. At thirteen, you just knocked fourteen-year-old Finnick off his pedestal!"

I giggled, causing a ripple effect on the audience. I would like to knock the entire Capitol of its Pedestal. Or maybe just Snow.

"Thank you."

"My dear girl, you are very, very welcome. But we should talk about your Games!" he turned to the crowd as if asking for approval. They roared in delight. "Shall we watch them? I'm sure you're wondering what it was like to watch them from the outside."

And I'm sure you're not wondering what it was like to watch from the inside, Caesar.

I grabbed the single pearl that sat at the base of my throat. "Let's."

They started out with a quick recap of the reapings--just to remember the tributes of each district that year. The Capitol focused on me, the female tribute of District Four and my male counterpart, Amos Elderhart. I watched stiffly as we shook hands, our escort, Cynara Linen, beamed at the two "promising-looking" tributes of the 72nd annual Hunger Games.