The 100th Hunger Games

Preparing for the Parade

Alright I don't care how you judge me for just abandoning this story, but I just grew bored of it and that is the truth. That may happen again for all I know. But for now, I feel like continuing this story. If you would like me to continue it, please leave a comment asking me to update, it reminds me :) This chapter is dedicated to all of my fans.

As I enter the glass building that I make to be the Training Centre all my doubts seem to be replaced by the feeling of pure luxury. Glass chandeliers dot the ceiling and are reflected by the fine marble floors. Peacekeepers with guns stand throughout the building to keep us safe, after all it would be shame for us to start killing each other too early.

As we walk through the lobby in district groups, Lori and Jeol usher my district partners into different rooms.

"Have fun." Jeol says laughing as he shows me to my room and starts to limp away.

My prep team is quick to usher me into the room to be styled. I don't know whether to think that they wanted to make the most of their time or whether that meant that I needed the most time I could possibly get.

"So you're my prep team." I say nervously, trying to make conversation as they frantically get their tools together.

"OW!" I exclaim as a red hot pain shoots through my veins as they start to wax my legs.

"If he screams at that, then I think he will need some morphine if we do plan on removing his teeth." One of the prep team says, her ID badge has the name Bethel written on it.

"What!" My voice wobbles in a magnitude so loud that I am sure that my district partners in the other rooms must have heard.

"Relax Haydn, I'm only joking." Bethel says before pointing a syringe and mouthing morphine to the other two prep team members. My prep team starts to file my nails and comb my hair, while Bethel waxes my legs. I try not to scream, but the pain is unreal.

"Try not to be so tense, calm yourself child." Says the only male member of my prep team, whose ID reads Wayek.

"Do you really need to clean my nails?" I ask.

"I mean will they really hold up binoculars to check if they have been properly filed?"

"You never know Haydn, a lot of people base their opinions of tributes on their appearances and their hygiene." The third member member of my prep team, Galileosaid.

They continue working on "beautifying me" by combing my hair, filing my nails, brushing my eyebrows and eyelashes, waxing my legs and arms and stomach and anything and everything that has hair. Until they finally decide that I am right to see my stylist. They wish me goodbye and leave the room.

I start to reflect on how much my life has changed. I am preparing to fight to the death, when just three days ago I was learning about District twenty-four's idea about naming babies after names from before the dark days. My life has changed and I consider that it probably will not change until I die. I've done it, I think to myself. I have thought about dying, I promised myself on the train that I wouldn't and now I have. I have changed since then I realise, Jeol must have felt this way before his games, as Chole and Pysde and Jule must be feeling right now. I wonder if I do survive, will I ever change back?

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door closing. I turn around to see a man standing at the door.

"You're my stylist?" I ask bluntly, knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I am." He says cautiously, sensing my mood.

"You're here to make me look pretty and to make me charm the tracker jackers that are the sponsors?" I say looking down at my feet.

"Look Haydn, I understand what you must be going through right now. But you can't talk about the sponsors like that, or the gamemakers, or the peacekeepers or the other tributes. Because if you do, you will regret that later in the games, when you're cold and thirsty and in desperate need of an alliance." I look up, he is making sense.

"I'm sorry." I say, still only half feeling the words.

"No. I'm sorry, I came in here and just expected you to wanted me to make you fabulous. Why don't we try this again?" He brings a smile to my face.

"That sounds good to me." I say cheering up a little.

"I'm guessing you have met those sheep they call your prep team." I laugh, that is true.

"They look pretty mousy too." I say. He laughs.

"That is quite true. Anyway my name's Jason. Jason Avair."

"Haydn Ovase."

"You seem alright, kid." He smiles. "Last week I worked with the other stylists for district twelve and we came up with the best idea for a costume."

"You did?" I say hopeful.

"I did, the only problem was we didn't know what sizes to make them in so we have only had since the reaping to make them, but we did it and I think you will like yours."

"I'm excited." I say feeling Jason's enthusiasm.

"I'll just go and get yours and I will be right back." He smiles and leaves the room.

This time I don't let myself think about the games, this time I concentrate on how I am going to go and win over those sponsors. Did I really just call them tracker jackers a moment ago?

And that was the first chapter I have written in a very long time. I plan to keep working on this story and to finish it.