r； of home。 Now I wish I had。
The door opens and a young man who must be Cinna enters。 Iˇm taken aback by how normal he looks。 Most of the stylists they interview on television are so dyed； stenciled； and surgically altered theyˇre grotesque。 But Cinnaˇs closecropped hair appears to be its natural shade of brown。 Heˇs in a simple black shirt and pants。 The only concession to selfalteration seems to be metallic gold eyeliner that has been applied with a light hand。 It brings out the flecks of gold in his green eyes。 And； despite my disgust with the Capitol and their hideous fashions； I canˇt help thinking how attractive it looks。
¨Hello； Katniss。 Iˇm Cinna； your stylist；〃 he says in a quiet voice somewhat lacking in the Capitolˇs affectations。
¨Hello；〃 I venture cautiously。
¨Just give me a moment； all right？〃 he asks。 He walks around my naked body； not touching me； but taking in every inch of it with his eyes。 I resist the impulse to cross my arms over my chest。 ¨Who did your hair？〃
¨My mother；〃 I say。
¨Itˇs beautiful。 Classic really。 And in almost perfect balance with your profile。 She has very clever fingers；〃 he says。
I had expected someone flamboyant； someone older trying desperately to look young； someone who viewed me as a piece of meat to be prepared for a platter。 Cinna has met none of these expectations。
¨Youˇre new； arenˇt you？ I donˇt think Iˇve seen you before；〃 I say。 Most of the stylists are familiar； constants in the everchanging pool of tributes。 Some have been around my whole life。
¨Yes； this is my first year in the Games；〃 says Cinna。
¨So they gave you District Twelve；〃 I say。 Newers generally end up with us； the least desirable district。
¨I asked for District Twelve；〃 he says without further explanation。 ¨Why donˇt you put on your robe and weˇll have a chat。〃
Pulling on my robe； I follow him through a door into a sitting room。 Two red couches face off over a low table。 Three walls are blank； the fourth is entirely glass； providing a window to the city。 I can see by the light that it must be around noon； although the sunny sky has turned overcast。 Cinna invites me to sit on one of the couches and takes his place across from me。 He presses a button on the side of the table。 The top splits and from below rises a second tabletop that holds our lunch。 Chicken and chunks of oranges cooked in a creamy sauce laid on a bed of pearly white grain； tiny green peas and onions； rolls shaped like flowers； and for dessert； a pudding the color of honey。
I try to imagine assembling this meal myself back home。 Chickens are too expensive； but I could make do with a wild turkey。 Iˇd need to shoot a second turkey to trade for an orange。 Goatˇs milk would have to substitute for cream。 We can grow peas in the garden。 Iˇd have to get wild onions from the woods。 I donˇt recognize the grain； our own tessera ration cooks down to an unattractive brown mush。 Fancy rolls would mean another trade with the baker； perhaps for two or three squirrels。 As for the pudding； I canˇt even guess whatˇs in it。 Days of hunting and gathering for this one meal and even then it would be a poor substitution for the Capitol version。
What must it be like； I wonder； to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button？ How would I spend the hours I now mit to bing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to e by？ What do they do all day； these people in the Capitol； besides decorating their bodies and waiting around for a new shipment of tributes to roll in and die for their entertainment？
I look up and find Cinnaˇs eyes trained on mine。 ¨How despicable we must seem to you；〃 he says。
Has he seen this in my face or somehow read my thoughts？ Heˇs right； though。 The whole rotten lot of them is despicable。
¨No matter；〃 says Cinna。 ¨So； Katniss； about your costume for the opening ceremonies。 My partner； Portia； is the stylist for your fellow tribute； Peeta。 And our current thought is to dress you in plementary costumes；〃 says Cinna。 ¨As you know； itˇs customary to reflect the flavor of the district。〃
For the opening ceremonies； youˇre supposed to wear something that suggests your districtˇs principal industry。 District 11； agriculture。 District 4； fishing。 District 3； factories。 This means that ing from District 12； Peeta and I will be in some kind of coal minerˇs getup。 Since the baggy minerˇs jumpsuits are not particularly being； our tributes usually end up in skimpy outfits and hats with headlamps。 One year； our tributes were stark naked and covered in black powder to represent coal dust。 Itˇs always dreadful and does nothing to win favor with the crowd。 I prepare myself for the worst。
¨So； Iˇll be in a coal miner outfit？〃 I ask； hoping it wonˇt be indecent。
¨Not exactly。 You see； Portia and I think that coal miner thingˇs very overdone。 No one will remember you in that。 And we both see it as our job to make the District Twelve tributes unforgettable；〃 says Cinna。
Iˇll be naked for sure； I think。
¨So rather than focus on the coal mining itself； weˇre going to focus on the coal；〃 says Cinna。 Naked and covered in black dust； I think。 ¨And what do we do with coal？ We burn it；〃 says Cinna。
¨Youˇre not afraid of fire； are you； Katniss？〃 He sees my expression and grins。
A few hours later； I am dressed in what will either be the most sensational or the deadliest costume in the opening ceremonies。 Iˇm in a simple black unitard that covers me from ankle to neck。 Shiny leather boots lace up to my knees。 But itˇs the fluttering cape made of streams of orange； yellow； and red and the matching headpiece that define this costume。 Cinna plans to light them on fire just before our chariot rolls into the streets。
¨Itˇs not real flame； of course； just a little synthetic fire Portia and I came up with。 Youˇll be perfectly safe；〃 he says。 But Iˇm not convinced I wonˇt be perfectly barbecued by the time we reach the cityˇs center。
My face is relatively clear of makeup； just a bit of highlighting here and there。 My hair has been brushed out and then braided down my back in my usual style。 ¨I want the audience to recognize you when youˇre in the arena；〃 says Cinna dreamily。 ¨Katniss； the girl who was on fire。〃
It crosses my mind that Cinnaˇs calm and normal demeanor masks a plete madman。
Despite this morningˇs revelation about Peetaˇs character； Iˇm actually relieved when he shows up； dressed in an identical costume。 He should know about fire； being a bakerˇs son and all。 His stylist； Portia； and her team acpany him in； and everyone is absolutely giddy with excitement over what a splash weˇll make。 Except Cinna。 He just seems a bit weary as he accepts congratulations。
Weˇre whisked down to the bottom level of the Remake Center； which is essentially a gigantic stable。 The opening ceremonies are about to start。 Pairs of tributes are being loaded into chariots pulled by teams of four horses。 Ours are coal black。 The animals are so well trained； no one even needs to guide their reins。 Cinna and Portia direct us into the chariot and carefully arrange our body positions； the drape of our capes； before moving off to consult with each other。
¨What do you think？〃 I whisper to Peeta。 ¨About the fire？〃
¨Iˇll rip off your cape if youˇll rip off mine；〃 he says through gritted teeth。
¨Deal；〃 I say。 Maybe； if we can get them off soon enough； weˇll avoid the worst burns。 Itˇs bad though。 Theyˇll throw us into the arena no matter what condition weˇre in。 ¨I know we promised Haymitch weˇd do exactly what they said； but I donˇt think he considered this angle。〃
¨Where is Haymitch； anyway？ Isnˇt he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing？〃 says Peeta。
¨With all that alcohol in him； itˇs probably not advisable to have him around an open flame；〃 I say。
And suddenly weˇre both laughing。 I guess weˇre both so nervous about the Games and more pressingly； petrified of being turned into human torches； weˇre not acting sensibly。
The opening music begins。 Itˇs easy to hear； blasted around the Capitol。 Massive doors slide open revealing the crowdlined streets。 The ride lasts about twenty minutes and ends up at the City Circle； where they will we