Chapter 16: Blaze

I worked through the crowd, hugging and casually chatting about the Reaping, even though my name was scattered multiple times throughout the clear glass ball onstage. Despite the fact that my name was on the clothing tags of people watching the Reapings excitedly in the Capitol, the prestige I built for myself was as hollow and transparent as a glass ball. It precariously balanced in merciless hands that seemed as if they only knew how to take. At any moment, the life that I've worked so hard for could shatter.

I rolled my neck and shoulders out and stretched out my arms. The fitted blazer I wore felt suddenly constricting. I ran my hand through my hair and tousled it with my usual shake-shake-smooth. Routines were the only thing keeping me from running away without looking back. I looked at the cluster of boy tribute papers and calculated the probability. Numbers and probability calmed me down too.

A bald man with toothpaste colored skin and long lavender eyelashes with jeweled tips took the stage. Cornelius Shaker, who I met at a gathering in the Capitol. He was wearing a double lapel white tuxedo, with zippers that showed off the black second layer. I smirked. A knockoff of my own idea.

"District 8. An...interesting place. Hopefully, I'll be here again, escorting my victor through the Victory Tour." His smooth voice was interrupted by a nervous chuckle. He squirmed and glanced at the stairs. "And our girl tribute is..."

He fumbled for the paper. I realized that his lips looked oddly pink against their mint backdrop.

"Fliss Burroughs" the name rolled off his tongue so effortlessly that I forgot that he basically sentenced her to death. A tall, willowy girl put a face to the name. She had long, perfectly straight hair that was a deep chocolate brown. She had fair, flawless skin that stretched across high cheekbones. Naturally pouty lips parted over straight white teeth. Her dark catlike eyes stared straight ahead without emotion. A girl that I could have easily scouted and coached in runway strut. The wasted potential made me bite the inside of my cheek.

"She looks determined. Time will only see how far this will take her." Cornelius said, accidental darkness in his smooth voice. He realized this, and quickly reached into the second glass ball.

"Loueh Tate." Confusion made his voice thick. He whipped his head up, and stared at me, the tips of his eyelashes gleaming. He probably thought I was from the Capitol. Reality made him flustered, and I hope he realized how people in the Districts watched their friends and family get Reaped.

All eyes on me, I walked confidently up to the stage, hoping the camera got a full-body shot, especially one of my bum. Hiding my emotions and thoughts was what I was best at, and I pretended this was another runway show. Everything existed in energy and light. I took my place next to Fliss, the two of us looking like models: poised, beautiful, envy-stirring. I put a charming, confident smirk to win over possible sponsors. Not like I needed them; they were probably all wearing my designs at the moment.