The Candidate [A Hunger Games Story]

Chapter Twelve

I was taken to the lowest level of the Remake Centre to prepare to be paraded through the streets of the Capitol. Decimus was already at the side of our chariot with Drew and Valeria when I arrived. I caught Drew looking at me with something close to admiration and smirked at him.

"Shocked?" I asked. He immediately reverted his face back to his usual scowl.

"You're not wearing what the stylist left for you," he grumbled. I twirled on the spot, feeling very much in my element. I'd been prancing around in Capitol couture my whole life after all.

"You wish you looked this good at your Games," I teased. "Look, I helped Decimus with his too. I'll bet President Snow never expected us to show such sportsmanship, right?"

"Do the twirl again!" Decimus said with a grin. I obliged for him, my cowboy boots making a perfect circle in the dust below my feet. I felt on top of the world for one short moment...back where I belonged.

"Hey, you, District 10!"

I felt my heart slam to a stop in my chest. One of the other tributes was calling out to me. It was bound to be a confrontation I wasn't ready for. Putting on a brave face, I turned to see the girl from District 4 looking at me. It took me a moment to get over how stunning she was. She had a button nose and dark brown waves of hair that were topped with bejeweled gold netting. District 4, the fishing district. The netting suddenly made sense. In fact, her whole outfit was dazzling. The netting was used once again as a kind of shawl over her golden skin, but her gown was silk, falling delicately like waves all the way down to her toes. The finer details included a trident connecting her shawl to her dress with the prongs of the weapon. She looked both deadly and beautiful in one go.

"What do you want?" I asked harshly. She wasn't my friend, after all. Far from it. Fast forward a few days and she'd be trying to kill me. But the only thing killing me then - and oh, it was killing me, ever so slowly - was the radiance of her smile and the twist of lust in my stomach when I looked at her.

I was falling in lust with my enemy.

And yet she kept smiling. Her lips were golden too and I wondered if the sparkle she radiated would be contagious if I kissed her lips.

"I just wanted to tell you that I love your costume," she told me, not noticing the way I was falling for her, not noticing the way I hated her, not noticing that I wished she'd never been reaped just to save me from this moment. Why was she trying to be friendly? Was she trying to make me feel so guilty that when the time came, I wouldn't be able to end her for the sake of my own life?

I swallowed. I had to keep my cool. Maybe she'd be a useful ally. Her toned shoulders were visible beneath the netted cape she wore. It added to her beauty, but also her usefulness to me. She wasn't just a pretty face, it seemed.

"Thanks," I said after a long pause. I ran a hand over my shorn head. I'd never normally touch my hair when talking to someone, but I realized that it was a product of my nerves. I felt the need to be doing something. "I made it."

"You did?" the girl asked, her eyes widening. It was hard to tell if she was being insincere. She was being way too nice for my liking, given the circumstances. "No, seriously, that's cool. Well, you look great...sorry, I realize this must seem strange to you...me talking to you like this." She shook her head in disbelief. "I know we're not meant to be friends or anything...I just...well, I felt like I wanted to say something. I'm Camille, by the way. I just thought I'd say hello."

I felt my face soften as I watched her. She had this sweetly awkward air about her, like she was filled with unexpected nervous energy. She seemed like she should be more confident. She was from a Career district, she was devastatingly beautiful and she was clearly a contender to win the whole thing that year. She certainly couldn't be considered an underdog, but she was acting like one.

Maybe it is an act, I thought to myself. As she scurried away to find her carriage in preparation for the start of the ceremony, I finally felt myself relax a little. When I turned, Drew was looking at me with faint irritation. I couldn't figure him out. Was it because he thought I was fraternizing with the enemy?

I didn't have time to find out. I clambered up into the carriage and then helped Decimus in beside me. He was shaking visibly beside me. I knew I had to say something to encourage him, to let him know he'd be okay for now, even if he'd die almost right away in the games. I nudged him.

"Hey. Think of the feast we'll have after this," I whispered as our carriage lurched forward, taking us away from the safety of the Remake Centre. Decimus looked over his shoulder fearfully, not taking in a word I was saying. I grabbed his chin and gently encouraged him to look ahead.

"There's nothing back there for us. You have to keep your eyes on what's in front of you. Now and in the Games. Looking back is never good, okay?"

He nodded fearfully. I sighed. Tough love wasn't working with him.

"It's going to be okay...you get scared and you grab my hand, alright?"

He closed his eyes. "I can't," he said and I understood without him having to say another word. He couldn't afford to look weak. He knew he was old enough now that he couldn't play the kid card. In the Capitol, they see tributes as adults the second they hit puberty. They're old enough to die without the audience shedding a tear. They're old enough to keep their head high and refuse to cry as they're paraded around the streets of the city who wants them dead. And they're old enough to know that any sign of them being weak will mean they die first in the arena.

My heart ached as the roars of the Capitol crowd overwhelmed us. We were coming into view. Fortunately, the tributes from 8 and 9 had no chance of overshadowing us. The crowd had already seen the radiant girl from Four, and no doubt the other Career tributes they favoured. Now, it was our turn for the limelight.

I raised my head high, unsmiling. I hoped they could see me as strong in clothes I made with my own hands. I hoped they could see that I wouldn't go down easily. I lazily waved to the crowd and wondered if anyone from my former life recognized me, or even cared. It didn't matter, I guessed. Now that I was set for the Games there was no turning back. Even as I searched for familiar faces in the crowd, I knew I wouldn't see one. No one was going to support me now that I'd been lowered to the level of the Districts. I was on my own.

I barely listened to President Snow's speech. I barely noticed as the carriages took us away. I barely noticed as we disembarked the carriages and Valeria congratulated us both on the way we handled it all. It was sinking in now. It wasn't a game. It wasn't an opportunity for me to dress up and show off like I did back home. It wasn't a week of training and interviews ahead of me.

It was a countdown to my execution.