When I get back, I see a tall woman, okay more like still a tall girl waiting for me. Her long, blond hair is wild and curly and reminds me of a bush. She wears green glitter eye shadow and blood red lip stick and her cheeks are golden and I can't take my eyes away from her white artificial cat ears. They are moving excited at my sight, the girl jumps to me and hugs me tight.

"Oh gosh, you are perfect," she says with a lovely voice. I adore her yellow, green dress that expose the best parts of her body. She is radiating with emotions and colors and I am stunned by her looks.

"Thank you," I reply quietly.

"You're welcome!" She is beaming at me and then touches me, first my chest, belly, then her hands flow to my back. I feel her finger nails scraping over my shoulder blades. "Okay, get naked!" She says. I open my mouth in shock and close it again and then back to open it.

"Pardon?" I ask.

"Get naked! I need to see all of you." She turns away from me and grabs for a notebook and a pencil and begins to write or draw down something.

I cough a bit emberassed and push the briefs down. She looks up from her notebook and her cat ears begin to shake, she glance down at me and then circle around me in fast steps. I feel her hand gliding over my ass cheeks and feel more than really uncomfortable about her touching me there.

"Like I said, 'perfect'," she mumbles to herself. "I forgot," she says after circling around me 3 more times. "I am Brittany, your stylist and we will have so much fun!" She jumps up and down like a little child.

I nod at her. "I am Kurt Hummel," I answer in good manner.

"I know." Is her only reply. She is back at scribbling down in her notebook and I watch her quietly.

"Okay," she says after a while, "You can wear that." She points to a bodysuit that lays on a chair. I go over and try to fit in it. Wow, it's skin tight. I never wore something like that before but it feels good. "It suits you. You look so-hot!" I think, that was meant as a compliment. "Let's go eat something before the opening," she says.

While we are waiting for our lunch Brittany talks the whole time. She is really funny but in a cute, naive way, I would say, she is remarkable.

"-So I told Lord Tubbingdon, I can't marry him. I love someone else, even if I see this person only once a year."

"Oh wow, your cat must be jealous," I add conversational.

"He is!" She laughs loud and I smirk at her. "He totally is. Everytime we are making out he comes between us and purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs. It's not nice, I told him several times to leave me alone when I am with my Darling but he is always fighting." She pouts and I can only think of how cute and innocent she is. Brittany is my favourite person of all the people I met until right now in the Capitol. I wonder if the other tributes like their stylists too or if Brittany and me are the exception.

They dish our meal and I smell the delicious scent of potage.

"Carrots?" I ask her. I am so hungry at this moment that my mouth flows over with saliva and I can't wait to finally dig in. She nodds and we begin to eat in silence for a while. After the potage follows chop from an animal I never taste before. At home I don't eat meat often. It is always chewy so I give my piece most of the times Finn. But this here, is soft and melts on my tongue. I didn't know before that meat can melt but it does and for the first time I understand the appeal of meat. For desert we have a chocolate pudding. I never eat chocolate before but now in this pudding, I feel like I am in heaven because I never taste something so delicous before in my whole life. I decide in silence that chocolate is my new favourite thing from now on.

"So here we are," introduces Brittany. "You are here in the Capitol, your costume is ready, we only have to see if it fits perfectly."

I gulp. Right. The costume. The parade. The Hunger Games. Just for a short time I forgot why I am here in the Capitol and the why I ate all these delicous things. "Okay," my voice trembles slightly and Brittany notices it. She catches my hands in tight grips and locks eyes with me.

"Are you afraid?" She asks almost not audible.

I nod, like I am saying 'yes' but say, "I don't know," instead. Her grip tightens again and I feel like my skin is bruising. There is a thin coat of sweat on her hands, it cools my overheated skin.

"You don't need to be afraid," Brittany sounds like she means it.

"Aren't you afraid of the death?" I look deep in her green eyes but can't find anything but kindness and trust in there in this moment.

"No, I don't have to and you too, don't have to." She tells me.

"Why?"

"Because, I like you!"

"What?"

"I like you," she explaines. "That's why you don't have to be afraid to die because you won't die. 'You understand?"

I ask again, "What?"

She shifts over to me and hugs me tight, again. Brittany whispers in my ear, "You don't have to be afraid. You won't die because I like you. People I like won't die. I know because Santana survived and is alive and visits me every year. I would visit her in District 11, too but she said I can't and she can only visit me once a year but I like her, so it's okay." Brittany laughed again but I heard her voice getting thick with emotions.

So Brittany is in love with Santana Lopez, the victor from the Hunger Games 5 years ago if I am correct. I remember her. She was sly and young. Santana took from the Cornucopia what she could reach at arm length and ran and hid until it dawned. 10 kids already dyed at the Cornucopia and over 7 days long Santana moved at night, slid the throats of her victims open and watched them bleed out from afar until she heard the canon shots to tell her they are dead. She was succesful.

"So you were the stylist for District 11 before," I conclude.

"Yes, I was but I got a better district because she won and the people liked her dresses."

I shift uncomfortable in Brittany's arms. So she's only my stylist because she gained profit of one of her tributes before. Brittany is like everyone else. Works with almost dead kids and robe us in glitter and velvet. I realize that Brittany like many other citizens of the Capitol doesn't understand the concept of death. She works in a cruel and cold place and overshadows it with beauty so people won't see that they kill humans year after year. No, they don't kill them. They let them kill each other and just have fun watching them hurting and dying and killing. I get silent and shut myself off. Brittany watches me quietly, I feel like she is in her own thoughts, too.

"Okay, it's time," says Brittany many silent minutes later. She pushs me up from my seat and lead me to a room where the prep team waits for us. I sit down and they begin to apply make up. I think back to the male tributes the years before it's not often that the stylists decide to let them wear make up and most of the times they would look like clowns or monster. Oh god, please don't make me look like a clown, I plea. Most of the time the tributes came from District 8, I always felt sorry for them.

Brittany vanishes and comes back with my costume. It's a nice suit in earthy colours but I can't see in which way it resembles my district.

After I am clothed, Brittany takes my hand and brings me to a mirror. It's the first time I see myself since the prep team laid their hands on me.

I never thought of me as ugly but I never thought of me as that beautiful or handsome as before this moment. Without a word I took myself in in the mirror. My hair was coiffed back, and my face was smooth and pale with strong, swift brown and bronze lines around my eyes. They make me older but my eyes look like a deep blue lake in the evening rounded by a forrest. My suit is fabulous! I never wore a suit before and never saw a tribute wear a suit for the opening ceremony either. It is brown and cream and the lights in the room change its color shades with every move I make.

I turn to Brittany. My mouth is dry and my eyes wet. Everything bad I thought about her before vanished the moment I saw myself in the mirror. "Thank You," I say with a scratchy voice. She smiles brightly at me and begins to circle around me again.

Her eyes are taking in every part of me and my clothes. "Perfect," she says after a while, "We don't have to change anything." She pauses and looks at my chest. "Except one." She turns away from me and walks over to a table, grabs something and comes back to me. She pins something on my breast pocket and I look down to see what it is. "It's a leaf," She tells me. "Now you are perfect." I look at the leaf. It's wonderful. It's made of glas and shimmers transparent green in the light. It remembers me of the moment when you walk through the woods and the sun shines down, you look up and through the leafes you feel the warm burn on your skin.

Later on we meet with Tina and her Stylist, Jeff, down on the bottom level of the remake centre, the other tributes already loading into their chariots. The chariots are pulled by horses, 4 horses for each chariot. I see mostly white or black horses some of them with paint on them. They all look beautiful and unrealistic like everything here in the Capitol but our chariot is pulled by different ones, a white , black, a brown and one that resembles more a cow. I am not even sure if it's a horse but I like it, it's different, it's a misfit like myself.

I try not to look at Tina so much but I can't stop myself. Her dress is beautiful, green and brown silk partly tied around her body and crystal leafes hanging down from her body like from a weeping willow. I love her make up. She wears matching blue eye contacts to my eyes and her eyes are rounded by the same brown and bronze lines like mine. Her arms and chest is covered with a green and golden powder. With her still sad expression, she looks like the real weeping willow, her whole being crys melancholy.

I am not the only one who can't stop looking at her. Mike the other mentor, can't take his eyes off of her himself. I smirk knowingly at him and think back to my bet, if he likes her I can't bet when she will break down. He would surely try to beat the crap out of me.

I don't know Tina really good but maybe she will survive like Mercedes did and maybe her shy image is just a facade and so on and so on. I should stop making all these stories for other people up in my mind.

The music for the opening begins and everyone is hurrying to their designated place. Around us is the noise of the clip-clop of the horses and our chariot begins to move. In front of us are the 6 tributes. The chariot in front of me contains a pair of blond tributes. I think their names was Jesse and Quinn. The chariot in front of them maintains the tributes from District 5, I can see the boy who tried to talk to me in the Remake Centre. His broad back is shining in gold and he resembles a light bulb.

We enter the city and the crowds are shouting our names just as loud as for the 6 tributes in front of us and the 5 behind us. Everywhere is light and glitter and shouts and noises. It's overwhelming and my heart beat is too fast to be healthy. For one moment, I think of my family, they are sitting at home, watching me at this one moment. They see how good I look like everyone else does and I can't hide the large grin on my face. I wink at people and flirt and laugh and again, in this moment, I feel loved by the people around me, so every gesture , smile and wave I return is honest and full of emotions. Look at me, I think, look what Brittany did for me, made me be. A little voice in the back of my head whispers with every second louder, I am a star.

We reach the center of the city. In front of us waits the president of Panem ready for her speech, Sue Sylvester.