Genesis

Johanna Mason and I have gotten into numerous fist fights. Beetee often remarks that we’re too much alike to properly get along. I disagree. I think she’s too much of a loose cannon—that she’s not smart, or she’s not now, at least. Her Games were extraordinary. I wonder where that calculating girl has gone. She would’ve been a valuable in the Quell.

“Nice dress,” she sneers while brushing past me.

Her shoulder roughly knocks mine and I start for her, but a hand pulling at my arm stops me. I growl in agitation.

“Don’t want a rumble just yet, peach.”

I know the voice. I don’t even have to turn around to identify who the sweet talker is. It’s too unmistakable, the pet name is. The use of it grates on my tattered nerves.

“Fuck off,” I hiss.

Laughing, Finnick Odair sidles up beside me. One of his long arms drapes across my shoulders while his golden face presses too close to mine. I swallow down the urge to spit in those sea-green eyes and settle for elbowing him in the gut instead. He lets out a grunt as I pull out of his hold.

“Always making friends, aren’t you, little Kara?” he gasps.

“I wouldn’t even begin to bother with the likes of you,” I call over my shoulder.

I begin the trek to my chariot, where I can see Neve observing the other Tributes cluttered around. Immediately do I know what he’s doing. It makes me smile as a rush of gratefulness surges through my system.

Coming to the Quell with someone else was unthinkable, to us, anyway. Neve and I were the youngest Victors in our District, making us the most likely inhabitants to be reaped. For me, there was no one else. But Neve had an older man named Samos that was in the running as well.

It had been the two of us in the end, though. We’d held hands and looked among the people we’d likely never see again, feeding over each other’s strength because we know no other way to live. He needs me and I need him; we cannot survive without each other.

“Dangerous,” he mutters as I come up on his left.

When I see who he’s looking at, a smirk lifts up my mouth. Gloss is surrounded by his prep team. His sister, Cashmere, is preening over in a corner close by him. Both are lethal in that certain way that only a trained Career can harness. He is a bound of rippling muscles and centered aggression. Cashmere is thin and fast and beautiful. They’ll both be the ones who receive the most sponsors.

“Allies,” I counter.

Scowling, he turns to face me. I just wink and nudge him gently with my elbow.

They were sponsor gifts. They were strength. They were numbers. We’d need all of that just to survive the first three days.

“Like hell,” grumbles Neve. “I’d rather castrate myself than promise allegiance to those inbred freaks.”

“You know we’ll need someone else, Neve. It can’t be just Beetee, Wiress, myself and you. We need their strength. They’ll get sponsors.”

He makes a scoffing sound but doesn’t say anything else. He knows I’m right.

We look margins better than the past Tributes from our District, but it won’t be enough. Neither of us have the type of personality that demands the crowd. People will forget us easily. When we get into the Games, we’ll be on our own. We’ll need someone bright and shining—someone the mindless Capitol citizens adore.

“Oh! You two look glittering!”

I roll my eyes at the sound of Lafayette’s voice. With Nuala and Meridian, the two stylists for myself and Neve, trailing behind her, the three draw up around our chariot. Samos trails behind. The old man rubs his hands together and licks his lips habitually. I can tell he’s nervous. He doesn’t like to be back here. I understand.

“I look like a light bulb,” remarks Neve.

I let out a snort of a laugh. Nuala sends me a reproachful look.

“I think I look like a…”

When I trail off, Nuala hisses. I just let out another loud laugh.

“Honestly, you two,” chides Lafayette. “You look fantastic. Like two different jewels.”

“We were going for a power surge kind of theme,” says Meridian.

“Oh,” mutters Lafayette.

The orange haired escort tweaks her head to the right and narrows her green eyes as she proceeds to look us over.

Whatever their theme, I had already decided that I liked it.

The dress I wear is minimal in material, cutting off at the middle of my thighs while flowing out a few feet in the back. The top of the gown is woven with a neck that is nonexistent. The fabric splits low in between my breasts, nearly revealing my navel, and almost completely exposes the flesh of my chest. There are thin straps wound around my neck that prevent too much from being shown, however. The back is completely bare, stopping just at the top of my backside.

All over do I shine. Where the glimmering, silver silk of the garb doesn’t reach, an almost-purple dust that shimmers has been sprayed all over the uncovered skin. My makeup is just silvers, deep purples, and molten blacks. It’s been heavily applied around my eyes so the hazel flecks in my irises glow even brighter. The strands of my hair have been woven around a dark silver crown of some sort that keeps only half of my mane up. The other falls down in messy curls and waves around my shoulders. Nuala had glitter dusted through it as well.

When I’d looked in the mirror, I’d sighed with relief. I wasn’t dressed in some ridiculous attempt to be witty or relate directly back to my District’s resources. I was made up in a way that would earn awe instead of laughs.

Neve’s costume was also something to gape at. He wore no shirt, but the black molten shimmer in my makeup had been washed over his chest and abdomen, so his muscles were outlined even more. A paneled skirt stopped just at his knees and was made up of thick slices of a dark silver material. Underneath the metal colored panels was a black layer that prevented his only piece of clothing from being too revealing.

On his feet were woven sandals that tie up around his toned calves. His dark hair is styled nicely while his eyes seem to shine just as bright as mine, partly in thanks to the black that had been smeared around his orbs. Around his neck is several necklaces and most match the intricate design of my crown. There are bands of some sort clasped around his biceps as well.

We both look like something to be reckoned with and I don’t care that Nuala and Meridian had taken cues from Cinna, one of Twelve’s stylist. All that matters to me is that we would be something to look at this time. We’d be something to possibly remember.

“Well, whatever the direction, you two look brilliant. People will be watching the two of you most definitely,” gushes Lafayette.

“Yes, yes,” interrupts Samos.

He strides up between the group of stylists and other people, elbowing Lafayette out of the way. He grunts in annoyance at the Capitol citizens. I laugh at this.

“This is about sponsors,” he starts. “Do like you’ve been told, alright? Make ‘em want to know more about ya. They’ll be dying to see ya interviews. It’ll make ‘em watch a lil' closer.”

“So we… wave?” asks Neve.

Samos sighs agitatedly. “No,” he spits. “Ya don’t wave.”

“But how will that earn us sponsors? Won’t they think we hate them?” I ask.

He glares at me. I return the look full-force.

“Pretend like the whole thing is nothin’. Make the parade look like somethin’ yer uninterested in, but don’t fuckin’ wave.”

“Language!” chides Lafayette.

Nobody pays her any attention.

“And why would we do that?” I question.

“Because that’ll make them pay attention to ya.”

“You’re insane!” hisses Nuala. “They’ll need sponsors!”

Samos sighs and growls in agitation. Excluding out prep team, he leans in close, drawing us together by gripping our shoulders.

“This Quell is gonna be different. But ya should already known that. It’s… You two don’t owe these sons O' bitches anythin’, ya hear me? Those stuck-up bastards don’t even deserve ya to look at ‘em. So you play like ya don’t give a damn and make ‘em wanna see ya more than anybody at the interviews.”

“So… If we ignore them, they’ll want to get to know us, meaning they’ll pay more attention during out interviews,” I murmur.

Realization strikes me and I understand how brilliant this tactic is. Samos is a genius.

Samos nods, grips my shoulder rather roughly and smiles a little bit.

“Now you two get yer asses on the chariot.”

There’s a flurry of sudden movement. Neve helps me up, then takes the position next to me. Nuala and Meridian buzz around in an attempt to fluff my dress and rearrange Neve’s hair a bit. Lafayette purrs over to the side about how extraordinary we look. I refrain from making a rude remark.

It’s only a minute later when our carriage jerks forward and Neve and I are regarded with something we’ve never had before. The Capitol citizens immediately start screaming our name.