Watching the rest ��of the reapings was...unsettling. Blaine felt Quinn look at him through various parts, various tributes, but he ignored her. He tried to stay focused on the screen and so he ignored Effie’s ‘ooh’s and ‘oh no’s through different districts. There were particularly strong looking tributes who volunteered in the Career districts, which didn’t surprise Blaine. He watched the District 11 tributes closely, and for the first time since watching the reapings, he actually felt like he could fight against someone, or at least stand a chance against them. The male was a boy called Rory. He looked about Blaine’s height, but he wasn’t particularly strong, already crying on the stage. No matter how much of a tactic it could sometimes be seen as, Blaine just didn’t think that he’d be able to fake something that strong, be able to fake the clawing onto a boy’s (probably his brother, Blaine thought) arm as he was forced onto the stage by three Peacekeepers. The girl was called Sugar. She wasn’t crying, but once the camera focused on her face it was obvious that she wasn’t strong. She was skinny and looked fast, but being fast in the games won’t make you win. As soon as someone catches up with you, you’re an easy target and because of that they very rarely win. They never stand a chance once the careers get hold of them.

The screen flicked to the District 12 reapings, and Effie watched the screen intently as Quinn was called, muttering something about her wig not sitting right and needing a new colour. Quinn herself swallowed and looked towards the edge of the television, suddenly very interested with anything but the show. Blaine kept watching, feeling a headache begin to cloud his mind but he tried to focus. Once no one volunteered, on-screen Effie announced Blaine’s name, and Blaine watched shakily as he saw himself walk onto the stage, looking a million times stronger than he felt. When the camera panned on him, he found himself staring into his own eyes. He didn’t even realise that he’d looked into the camera, but he was glad he had. It gave a sense of strength, of courage.

The show concluded with the Capitols anthem and a message from the President about the honour that these games will bring to Panem, and Blaine let out a long breath. Because that show had actually aired the night before, when Blaine and Quinn had fallen asleep after their long day, they still had a few hours before they would arrive in the Capitol.

They both settled into one of the carriages in the back of the train where they had been the previous night. They seated themselves on the sofas and Blaine let himself enjoy the comfortable silence between them.

After a while, once Blaine began to spin the ring his father had given him, Quinn spoke.

“The boy...from District 1” she started, Blaine’s head snapped up to look at her and she spoke again, trying to sound less fearful. “The boy, from District 1 he...I can’t stop seeing his face when I close my eyes.” She admitted softly. “He scares me. No one refuses volunteers.” She mimicked Blaine’s thoughts from earlier and he pursed his lips.

“He’s a career.” He said firmly. She nodded and seemed to understand.

“And the two from District 2...” she started again.

“Quinn stop talking about them.” He snapped. She looked shocked and apologetic but nodded softly and looked down to her wringing hands in her lap. Blaine didn’t apologise. He was just sick of talking about them already, he didn’t want to know all of her opinions of them all, he didn’t want to think of them as being people with a family and friends and a background, he’d rather go into the games not knowing a single one, only knowing himself and knowing that he had to get home safely to his family. That was all he had.

Quinn was right though, about the boy from District 1 but Blaine wasn’t scared of him. It was an interest, which probably scared him more than the boy ever could. He didn’t want to know him, he didn’t want to know why his smile faltered off camera or why he was refusing volunteers, or maybe that would just be because he’s a career and he has been taught that to be worth anything in their district, he needs to be a tribute in the games.

I don’t care Blaine told himself over and over, until eventually he didn’t. He stared outside, out of the window for the next few hours, watching the sky darken as the day dragged on.

Quinn ignored him from then on; she looked down at her hands a lot and neither bothered to look up, or speak to each other. Effie walked in and out a few times, just checking that they were still there and not falling into some kind of nervous hysteria like she had seen some tributes do in the past. Each time that she was convinced they weren’t going to start screaming and try to escape from the train, she hummed a happy tune and turned back towards where she entered the carriage from. The final time she walked in, she announced that they were nearing the Capitol and told them both to be ready to leave shortly.

Blaine met his prep team in the Remake Centre over an hour before he was allowed to meet his stylist. His prep team consisted of a small plump bald man with a scalp dyed an unnatural shade of purple, who was named Previus, a woman with curling blonde, orange and blue highlighted hair which hung down to the small of her back, Betty and another man called Welton with short black hair which looked like it’d been fried, at least judging by how mangled and burnt it looked up close.

They bathed him in various different baths filled with fragrances and lotions to make his skin cleaner and more presentable before trimming his hair into neat curls which didn’t bounce so much when he walked and trimming his eyebrows so they wouldn’t look so bushy and more like perfectly sculpted triangles. Previus smiled genuinely at him once his eyebrows were trimmed and exclaimed “You have beautiful eyes! Now that we can see them!” Betty and Welton laughed along with him, their Capitol accents embedding themselves into Blaine’s head, he tried to focus on anything apart from their meaningless chatter which he seriously didn’t care for.

Blaine tried to smile genuinely back at them but he was positive they wouldn’t notice if his smile was a little off. “Thank you,” he said gratefully.

Once they deemed him fit for his stylist, they all huddled out of the room. Blaine looked around the sterile white tiled room, which made him feel incredibly out of place. This was too clean for him, too clean for anyone that he had ever met, apart from Effie.

The doors opened a few moments later, and instead of being greeted by his prep team, Blaine was eye to eye with a tall woman who had electric blue hair, her eyes looked like flames flickering each time she blinked which made Blaine sure that they were cosmetically enhanced, like most people’s appearances were in the Capitol. She observed Blaine carefully, walking around him as he stood naked, her eyes on him like a hawk inspecting its prey.

“Hello Blaine,” She said carefully, not looking up from his body to meet his gaze. “I’m Taylina, your stylist.”

Blaine nodded and she passed him a silk robe, they walked through a large archway before she sat down in the adjacent room. She patted the chair next to hers, gesturing for Blaine to join her.

“Let’s talk about your costume for the opening ceremony.” She started. “Since it has to reflect your districts’ flavour, as you know.”

Blaine nodded again, he did know. At the opening ceremonies each tribute was expected to wear something which reflected the particular district’s particular industry, and for District 12 it was coal mining.

“My partner, Kendey is the stylist for your fellow tribute Quinn, and we have worked together to design outfits for the pair of you, which we’re sure will make an impression on the Capitol citizens.”

*

Kurt woke up and showered before he changed into a fresh outfit and headed down to breakfast. He and Santana ate in silence; both tolerating each other’s company purely because they were forced to. Santana made a comment about looking forward to watching the starved district’s tributes fighting each other for food when they all got to eat together during the training sessions. Kurt shrugged her off, the eyes of the boy from District 12 flashing in his mind again and he sighed under his breath.

After breakfast, Polly directed them both off to meet their separate stylists who would dress them up until the games began. Kurt walked casually into the room where his prep team were waiting.

He was greeted by a set of twins, a male and a female, both with matching bright orange spiked Mohawks which were sprinkled with glitter, making them glisten under the light. Matching this, they both wore deep orange lipstick and corresponding eyeliner. They spoke simultaneously, introducing themselves as Nina and Read. They stripped Kurt down and let him bath in a bath filled with a variety of different lotions, each feeling differently upon his skin. By the end of his bath treatment, his skin was slightly raw, but shimmering under the florescent lighting of the room.

Nina and Read engaged in conversation with Kurt, asking him what he had trained in and how long he’s been training for. They said they were really excited to see him in the games, and were already rooting for him. Kurt couldn’t help but love his prep team, they were so familiar with him, and they reminded him so much of his family back home.

Nina hugged Kurt close, which was sort of awkward considering he was naked but she didn’t seem to care, she pulled away and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Read said that they would be going to collect Kurt’s stylist, and told him to stay exactly where he was.

The next person Kurt was greeted by was his stylist Mila. She wasn’t as extravagantly dressed as everyone else from the Capitol usually was, but there was a hint of luxury to her, the way that the gems embedded into her hair flickered and glimmered on every over exaggerated swing of her head. She looked him up and down a few times, bringing her long manicured finger to scrape along the skin on his chest. He looked at her finger gingerly but let her do her job. She hummed contentedly.

“Put your robe on, Kurt. I think we have just the costume for you.”