The Capitol's Tribute

I was whisked down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, which is essentially a gigantic stable. The opening ceremonies were about to start but I couldn’t see Brant anywhere. Pairs of tributes were being loaded into chariots pulled by teams of four horses. Ours were a coal black. How very District 12.

Cinna suddenly popped up behind me with a shiny black ribbon. I eyed it apprehensively.

“I heard your token was a ribbon.” He said, tying it into the bow that my hair was in. I didn’t say anything, not wanting to lie to Cinna. He stepped back taking me in again. “You look beautiful.” My eye caught something gold and circular in his hand. It was my mocking-jay pin. I gaped at Cinna, wondering how he found it and why he didn’t call me out on it. Cinna merely smiled and pocketed it. “I’ll give it back to you after the ceremony. I wouldn’t want you to lose your real token.”

Brant and his stylist, Portia, appeared out of thin air. I grinned widely at what they had done to my brother. He looked quite dapper in his slim purple suit that went unspeakably well with my gown. His black plaid button up dress shirt was tucked in neatly to his pleated pants; his black boots were so shiny I could have done my makeup in them. A ribbon had been tied into a nice bow tie around his neck. I quickly made my way to my brother, tightening the bow and sighing. I was going to miss Brant more than anything.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Brant smiled. I felt a pang of pain in my chest, remembering those were the first words Gale had said to me when I had gotten back to District 12. I sniffed, feeling those dumb tears again. “Don’t cry, Rix.” He murmured, pulling me in for a hug.

“You’re all grown up, Brant.” I laughed halfheartedly. “I can’t wait ‘til Ma sees you. She’s gonna die.” Maybe die wasn’t the best word for this situation.... “And Madge. She’s gonna swoon!”

Brant smiled broadly, chuckling as he shook his head. Then, he suddenly got serious, taking in my dress more closely. “Did they really have to make this dress so…revealing?” He muttered, trying to close the gap of the deep-v design. My chest was quite exposed. Brant clucked his tongue in disdain.

I swatted Brant’s hands away, glaring. “We are the Capitol’s tributes. No outfit is too scandalous. Too much skin is not enough skin.” I joked lightly.

Brant rolled his eyes, still being my protective older brother.

“It’s a television show, Brant. Besides, you’re gonna have to let me grow up sometime in the next few days or I never will at all.”

Brant narrowed his eyes about to dispute my comment when Cinna and Portia directed us into our chariot, carefully positioning our bodies until they were satisfied. I grabbed Brant’s hand as our chariot moved to get in the back of the line of tributes, almost tumbling out. Brant laughed at my clumsiness but I could feel the sweat of his hand in mine. He was nervous.

“Don’t worry, Brant. We’re the best looking two here.” I whispered encouragingly. It was true. The looks we were getting from the other tributes ranged from mild jealous to menacing glares. It was a good thing because the sponsors would love us even more compared to their silly costumes. But, we could be sorely punished for our outshining in the arena.

The opening music began. It was easy to hear, blasting around the Capitol. Massive doors slid open to reveal the crowd-lined streets. The ride would last about twenty minutes and we would end up in the City Circle where we were to be welcomed graciously.

The tributes from District 1 road out first in a chariot pulled by snow-white horses. They looked beautiful dressed in expensively jeweled tunics and silver crowns like they had already been named victor. The monstrous boy who had volunteered before volunteers were asked for had been eying me menacingly in the Remake Center as if to tell me that I was to be the first he would take out in the arena. I made sure that Brant had his back to the boy at all times.

You could hear the roar of the crowd. District 1 was always a favorite.

District 2 got into position and was soon following behind District 1. Before I knew it, Brant and I were approaching the door. The sky was pink and orange, the sun fading fast. The tributes from District 11 had just rolled out when my breathing started picking up. I felt like I was having a panic attack. How was Brant the calm one in this situation when this glamour, this attention, was my territory?

“Don’t worry, Rix.” Brant whispered as the chariot lurched forward. “We’re the best looking two out here.” I laughed as he repeated my words so cockily, so sure. I gripped his hand tighter as we entered the city.

We were automatically hit with a wave of deafening screams. Chants of “District Twelve!” echoed around the streets. Every head turned our way, ignoring the other chariots in front of us. My smile was nervous at first until I caught a glimpse of Brant and me upon the large television screen. Breathtaking. The brother and sister pair from District 12 wouldn’t soon be forgotten in their Capitol wear. My grin widened until it hurt. I raised our hands and the roars shook the ground. Brant and I waved our free hand. Brant caught a purple rose, looking at me, laughing so good naturedly. It was almost as if we were just parading around the Capitol for fun, not for sponsors so we didn’t die in the Games.

I shook my head, smiling at my brother. How could they take someone so strong, so loving from this shit filled world? They couldn’t. I wouldn’t let them. I blew a few kisses to the crowd and Brant followed in suit. I heard our names bouncing around multiple times like we were old friends. Maybe I knew some of them, but it was impossible to tell in the mess of faces.

The music pounded on, the cheers got even louder (if it was possible). The admiration, the love, the roar of the crowd. Cinna had given us the advantage we needed. We were a hit. No one would ever forget the Capitol’s tributes as long as the Games were alive.

“Rixa! Rixa! Brant!” They screamed, vying for our attention. We smiled our winning smiles and waved, giving air kisses to those lucky few.

It was not until we finally reached the City Circle that I realized my hand was completely drenched in sweat. And it wasn’t my sweat. I wrinkled my nose playfully at him. The crowd went wild over such a simple movement. Our sibling love was to die for.

The twelve chariots filled the loop of the City Circle. The buildings surrounding the Circle were filled with most the prestigious citizens of the Capitol. Our horsed pulled our chariot right up to President Snow’s mansion before we came to a halt. The music faded dramatically.

President Snow stood up, silencing the unruly crowd at once. He gave the official welcome from the balcony fifty feet above us. I could tell that Brant and I were getting more than our fair share of air time as they cut to us between showing the other tributes. Snow sat down, letting us know this parade is over.

The anthem played and we all made our final lap around the circle. The camera cut to the other districts but held Brant and I as we joked together, smiled and hugged, milking our sibling relationship for all it was worth. After the last lap, we disappeared into the Training Center.

The doors had barely shut behind us when our prep teams engulfed us in an endless babble of praise. I glanced around in between compliments and noticed my suspicions were true that their lack of air time had not gone unnoticed. We had outshone them all. The career districts could be the Capitol’s pets but they couldn’t complete with the Capitol’s tributes.

I smiled triumphantly, letting this tiny bit of victory simmer inside me. It was one step closer to saving Brant.

Cinna and Portia helped us out of the chariot, beaming happily at us.

“Brilliant.” Portia’s deep voice smiled. “Absolutely stunning.”

Cinna stood by, quietly taking in his success.

“You did amazing.” I cried, ungluing my hand from his sweat one. I tackled him into a hug before being scolded by Portia. We were still wearing our expensive costumes. She told us we couldn’t afford to pay for them if we damaged them.

Brant smiled shyly, “Sorry, Portia.” He turned to me, holding out his hand. “I think we make a pretty good team, eh, Rix?” I shook it, laughing loudly.

“An unstoppable one. Who can stop the Capitol’s tributes now?” I smirked as the rest of our crew burst through: Peeta, Haymitch, and Katniss.

They were all smiling, impressed by our performance. Haymitch lagged back, giving me a strange look. It was as if he was still expecting me to change my mind and beg him to train me to be the lone District 12 victor. I twitched my head to the side so discreetly that you had to be looking quite close to notice I was shaking my head. Haymitch pursed his lips at my answer, unhappy with it.

“You guys did great.” Katniss said truthfully. I could see her neck was very red like she had been gripping it tightly during the entire chariot ride. She looked tired and stressed. I couldn’t imagine how hard mentoring was, knowing that only one of your tributes could survive, especially when Katniss and I had a tainted history. This must be a complicated and stressful year for her. What a great first year to mentor, her fiancée’s ex-girlfriend and her brother sent to arena. Was this what some called irony?

“Thanks.” I said to her, giving her a small smile. The elation from our good job had me feeling generous. I glanced over at Peeta and he seemed to be resisting the urge to hug me. He smiled genuinely but I could tell he was struggling with something.

“You were really great, Rix.” He managed to get out. I nodded gratefully.

“What about me?” Brant cried. I lightly punched Brant in the shoulder, laughing at his childishness.

“We should probably head up to the room.” Haymitch suddenly said, eying something behind me. I barely turned my head, not wanting to be so obvious. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that it was the boy from 1. And it was. The devious grin on his face told me that I was as good as dead. I glanced unconcerned at Haymitch.

“Sounds good to me.” My voice sounded a bit too casual. I just hoped that no one else caught onto what Haymitch and I did. But, Peeta was always too observant for his own good. I could see him glancing from the boy to me and back again.

“Good.” Brant said, oblivious to this. “I’m beat. Being pretty is tiring and sweaty.”

I snorted, nudging him as we all took off to the elevator. I was just about to get on when a voice caught my attention.

“Rixa!” Finnick said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me away with him.

“Hey!” Brant cried, dislike covering his face. Peeta’s mirrored it with his fist clenched like he as about to hit someone.

“You don’t mind if I steal your tribute for a moment, Haymitch?” Finnick asked sweetly.

Haymitch smiled back, shaking his head nonchalantly. “Of course not. Keep her as long as you like.”

And with that, the elevator doors shut firmly, leaving me without any of my team. Without Brant or Haymitch or even Peeta.

I was alone in a room full of people who wanted me dead.

Lovely.