SCORE- 7 out of 12

Being a heavier set boy, James wasn't considered attractive. His parents insisted on a bowl cut hairdo, which didn't help, and his glasses were larger and thicker than he would have liked. Not only that, but he was short for his age, which only made him look bigger. His stylist, a tall, thin, attractive man named Beets, was very aware of that.

"Now, now...this won't do at all. We'll have to do some major repairs on you if we want you to look good," he said, waving his hands as he spoke. James hated it when people did that. "You're so...dirty."

He kept himself silent, almost in a sulking sort of way, and sat on the hard bench that was supposed to be where they made him handsome. What are you gonna do, he thought, starve me until I'm skinny?

Meri, the other tribute from his district, was probably being treated like a goddess. She was tall and slender, had a nice chest, and had beautiful brown hair that paired well with her blue eyes. He'd consider her pretty if she weren't so stuck up. Before the reaping he'd watched her like he did everyone else--she was beautiful, but silent, not talking to anyone save a lucky few. She acted superior to everyone, yet only have kind smile and sympathy to others. It sickened him.

She was no better than the bullies, he assumed, but she was all he had from home. Perhaps he wouldn't kill her, no...perhaps he could use her to his advantage.

All the while he thought this, Beets was busy measuring him and talking to other frilly Capitol girls. They held up different cold fabrics to his bare chest, sending small shivers through him. They all looked ridiculous and spoke with odd accents. It was as if they had been trying to outdo each other.

The food was outrageous, though they didn't let him eat any of it, and his stomach growled at the thought of hot cream puffs covered in chocolate fudge with powered sugar on top. The table that held the food was only seventeen feet away...and he couldn't touch any of it.

"Gray works well, but I think black would suit him."

"Black would make him look so washed out," an odd looking woman said, "the gray slacks with black sequins rimmed with orange would look much better on him."

Beets sighed, "But if we do gray he'll look even more washed out! At least the black will make his eyes pop."

He tried his hardest to tune them out and focus more on his game plan, but it became harder and harder to do with so many stupid people surrounding him. Beets tapped him on the shoulder, now holding a long sprayer and hose in his hands. "Take off your pants," the man said, moving the sprayer side to side.

James had taken off his shirt earlier, when they decided to look at his chest, and he slowly took off his pants too. Each movement was sure as he folded the jeans and placed them next to his folded shirt. Perfectly in place...only to be showed off the table as the girls brought out blue washcloths and a large dispenser of soap.

Beets sounded more than cheery when he announced, "Bath time!"

The sprayers they brought out had one setting and that had to be negative twelve, James reasoned a freezing hard jolt of water hit him in the gut. He shrieked and held out his hands, only to feel more cold water and hard cloth touching his back. He protested, trying to get them to stop. None of them listened, so he ended up with perfumed smelling soap in his mouth and eyes and a frown on his face as they began chopping away at his hair.

Whoever taught Beets to cut hair must have been a miracle worker. Within eight minutes his bowl cut was transformed into styled black hair that framed his face. His glasses were exchanged for contacts, which he fought them tooth and nail until they let him put them in. What he viewed before as lifeless green eyes seemed to be brighter, and his usually yellowed teeth were whitened.

Beets had him change into black pants with grey and orange sparkly-things on them, and a black suit that had flared sleeves. He even wore a grey bow tie and proper buckle shoes that fit his feet well. All in all, he didn't look like himself.

That was exactly what he had hoped they'd do. Change him from the stupid, perfect house boy who never did anything wrong. From the kid who was bullied to the one good enough to bully others. To the guy who would win the Hunger Games and show his district what he could really do.

"Well, what do you think?" Beets asked him as James looked at his reflection in a full length mirror. He shrugged, which took the proud smile right off Beet's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," James said, sure to include a sigh in his voice. He gave the man a weak smile, "It's fine, fine. You did a fine job."

He really had. The outfit was gaudy, yes, but it made him appear skinner somehow. Taller too. As if he wasn't just that chubby boy who was sure to die on the first day. I won't die on the first day, he assured himself, because I'm smarter than all those other idiots. They'll die and I'll go on and win this.

Before Beets could have too much time to reconsider, James was being rushed out to the chariot, where he joined up with Meri again. She was in a flowery gray dress that resembled smoke, and the chariot looked like a nuclear bomb exploding. Everything on it resembled a building being blown up, with guns sticking out each side proudly. He couldn't help but grin as he noticed the nuclear warning symbol proudly lit up in LED lights on one side of it. In her left hand, Meri held a small device with a green button on it, which she explained was to let out smoke when it was their turn.

"Cool," he said. He gave her the once over, looking at the result of the Capitol's obsession with beauty. "You look hot."

She blushed, and mumbled something that sounded like he was too young to say things like that. James didn't quite care what she said or thought of him, but her smugness from before seemed to be gone. She was a nervous wreck and he could tell, so he did the one thing he knew best. He acted.

With a slight grin, he chuckled, "I meant your face. You're red."

"Oh."

She looked awkward until it was time for them to go.

The chariot awoke with a loud start, pulling them along and onto the track. Crowds on every side cheered at them, and he gave them all a stoic expression. Meri glanced at him before doing the same, though she looked more shy than anything.

A little before they reached the end, Meri pushed the button. A sound that mimicked an explosion went off, and suddenly they were smoking. Even their costumes appeared to become smoke, though hers worked far better than his did. Her face seemed to smolder against the smoke, hair waving behind her dramatically. The weapons on the side of the chariot unloaded a near constant stream of confetti.

If he thought the crowd was loud before that, James was wrong. At that the crowd was shouting and screaming--all in a good, excited way. Everyone was blown away by their chariot, and for that he was happy. While the other districts got simplistic chariots--Twelve only wearing black suits and miner outfits, Eleven wearing farmers outfits...he couldn't see the others from his position but he knew they couldn't be any better.

Even as roses were thrown at them, Meri still looked shy.

Stupid girl, he thought. With a mental sigh he took her scrawny little hand in his, knowing that it'd cheer her up. Girls are suckers for things like that. So are crowds. We've got to impress them, to show them that we're above them. Because they may cheer now, but in a week or so...they'll be cheering as I rip the neck off people.