Chapter 5

A/N: DDGSDGFDYH. Guys. I am so, so sorry about the wait. I tried to keep updating, but life got in the way. First it was exams, then writer's block, then family emergencies...and to top it all off, the Parental Controls on my computer only let me on from 8-9 PM every day. Add that to Document Uploader being irritating, and it was pretty much impossible to get anything onto the Internet.

I can't promise anything, but I'm trying my best and I really hope I don't have a delay that long again. Believe me, it was just as bad for me as it was for you.

This chapter's my longest yet (3,200 words, what am I doing?), too! So without further ado...Chapter 5!

Sunlight is already streaming in through the windows, only partially blocked by the light blue curtains in the room. But that's not what wakes me up. I would have been fine to just sleep for a bit longer, but Coach Sylvester has other plans.

"PORCELAIN!" she barks, holding a megaphone. "Get your pear hips out of this bed right now and get yourself to dinner. Everyone's waiting."

I start to respond, but it's early and I'm much too tired to come up with some kind of comeback. And though I hate to admit it, Coach would probably outwit me anyways. So I just extricate myself from the covers slowly and cross the room to where she's standing. "You know, I'm going to need some moisturizer and..." I trail off as she silences me with a look and points to the bed.

Which currently has Blaine in it.

Crap.

Coach Sue is silent for a few seconds. Then, she just points to the bed, where Blaine's curly mop of hair is just visible. "LuPone. What is this?"

"Um...that's my roommate. Th-the one you were talking about..." I stammer.

Sue sighs exasperatedly. "Yes, I know who he is. But I didn't expect you two to be gallivanting around like two hobbits in the shire!"

"I don't think that's the correct usage of the word 'gallivant'-"

She cuts me off. "Irrelevant. Just get downstairs. We'll talk about this in training. You have the parade today and there's no time to frolic down a path of rainbows like you seem to be intent on doing."

She's about to turn away and leave, but I stop her. "Um, Coach? Don't we have to get off the train?"

She smiles at me almost condescendingly. "You got off last night before dinner. You were probably just too out of it to notice. We're in the Justice Building." She's about to leave when she turns back again, this time of her own accord. "Welcome to the Capitol, kiddo."

And then Coach Sylvester leaves, snickering a little bit at my dazed expression.

The bathrooms in the rooms are...extravagant to say the least. A giant bathtub with the letters 'Jacuzzi' printed on the side has what I can only assume are bottles of scented bubbles stacked on the side and a shower. We've never had showers in District 12; only small bathtubs with lukewarm water, if you were lucky. The only electricity you could always count on was the television, just in case there was a Capitol broadcast on air at any point in time.

The room is incredibly unfamiliar, especially compared to what we had before. Instead of trying to figure out what all of the buttons near the sink do, I just decide to take a shower. This turns out to be quite counterproductive, though, because there are even more buttons in the shower on a large panel. I stand there in the cold for a little while, testing out random buttons until I finally find the one that turns the shower head on. And the water is scalding. I let out a yelp and fiddle around with the knobs on the panel of buttons until the water cools down to a temperature that doesn't threaten to burn my skin off.

As I wash off, I let my mind start to wander. What happened last night? I actually can't remember, but all of a sudden, memories of nightmares, lullabies and Blaine holding me rush back into my mind. As soon as I can put the fragmented memories back together, I know that I can't let it happen again. I've let myself become preoccupied with distractions. But now it's time to focus on what lies ahead. Because it's the parade day, and the first part of the Games are about to begin.

When I get downstairs, everyone is waiting at the table already. I'm starting to think that Coach Sue is setting up this whole 'lateness' thing to make me feel bad, because I know for a fact that boys like Finn would never be up earlier than me.

"Porcelain. We've been waiting for you."

Yep. She's been setting this up. Just an excuse to use that line.

"Sorry. I thought I was on time and-shit!" I cover my mouth as Coach Sue raises an eyebrow, Finn stifles laughter and April looks indignant. "Um. Sorry. I just...I forgot to comb my hair!"

This only makes Finn laugh harder as I glare at him. Coach Sue just sighs and throws her hands up in the air. "Fine. Just go. As long as you don't put any of that awful product in your hair. We don't want you coming down with a case of Bresporkean Scalp Disease."

I start to ask her exactly what this Bermorkean-whatever is, but decide to just leave it. It's probably better off that way. "Thanks." I say, and then dash off.

As I dash back to my room, I realize that Coach Sylvester was right. The layout of the building is exactly the same, but when you look out the windows, the train isn't speeding anymore and we seem to be on high ground. I'm not sure exactly how they managed to get the compartment up this high, especially without waking us up, but it's the Capitol. They found a way, I'm sure.

I open the door to the bathroom and quickly comb my hair. Usually I would take more time and caution, but I'm pretty sure April was mad at me. So I make sure it looks fine and get up to leave. As I'm about to open the door, I hear a voice calling from down the hallway. "PORCELAIN! Hurry up, I think my hair is greying as we speak, which is strange considering it's made of silicon."

Great. This just means I'll have to run back quickly. So I open the door and rush out, only to run into a very surprised Blaine. I try to stop myself, but we both end up tumbling to the floor in a mass of jumbled limbs and before I know it, my face is inches from his. I untangle myself and hastily stand up. I don't offer him a hand, so he just gets up.

"Oh. Hi, Kurt..." his voice trails off as Coach Sylvester walks up to us. She gives Blaine a one-over, as if trying to decide something. Then she speaks.

"Right. Fine China it is then."

Blaine just looks bewildered and scratches his head blearily, confused.

Sue muses to herself. "Porcelain and Fine China. You'll make a fine team, I think." She takes me by the hand and drags me off.

I look back at Blaine and mouth Save me. But it's too late; he's turned away and he doesn't see.

As I sit down at the table, Finn eyes me, a bit suspiciously. "Dude, did you put something in your hair? It's all shiny and stuff..."

I scoff, but not unkindly. "It's called proper grooming, Finn. You might want to try it. Maybe invest in some anti-dandruff shampoo?"

"I agree with Porcelain; Frankenteen here is practically snowing on the table and it's disgusting." Sue says. She's about to say more when April starts to speak.

"The state of Finn's scalp is not the issue here. As you both know, today is the parade. Which means you'll spend today meeting your stylists and prep teams. You're expected to be down at the chariots at four o'clock sharp. Don't be late!" April says, clicking her heels and leaving. She turns her head for a second to add something, though. "Oh, and good luck. Have a nice breakfast." With that, she's gone. We spend the rest of the meal in silence, and I get to really appreciate the meal in front of me.

There's a steaming mug of something chocolatey in front of me, and a large plate of eggs and toast. On Finn's side of the table is a dish of some kind of meat, most likely bacon. And other delicacies I've never seen before are stacked in various spots on the table. Assembling even a portion of this meal would probably mean a year's salary for anyone in District 12. So as I eat, I try to appreciate every bite. I probably won't ever get a breakfast as nice as this again in a couple of days.

While I try to eat slowly in the hope that I can protect my digestive system, Finn just shovels as much as he can into his mouth. "You look like a human vacuum." I comment dryly. He just looks up at me and shrugs.

"I'm hungry." he says in defense.

"I can see that."

I don't know why we're keeping up this charade. The banter, the friendliness...none of it's going to hold once we're in the arena. It's almost nice, though, so I let it go and finish eating. Once I finish, Finn shoves another plate of food at me. But I push it away. Once we're in the Games, I won't have that much to eat. It's probably better that I don't get used to eating this much.

I stand up and make to leave. Then I remember that I have absolutely no idea where I'm supposed to be going. "So...where did she say the stylists were?"

"Mfings'atosdaffums." Finn tries to say through a mouthful of food.

"What?" I ask.

He swallows and looks to Coach Sylvester nervously. "I think they're across the hall from our rooms."

Coach Sylvester nods, and I head off in that direction.

I'm sitting on the counter in the stylists' room, just swinging my legs back and forth as I wait for the stylists to come in. I've figured that I shouldn't have to put the bathrobe on, even though I'm just a little bit self-conscious. It's obvious that I haven't ever really had enough to eat, and my bones stick out everywhere. Santana told me I was gorgeous once, but I think she was just being nice. But whoever the stylist is will probably just make me take the bathrobe off anyways.

I hear a knock on the door and awkwardly cover myself up. I wouldn't want to accidentally flash the prep team on our first meeting.

"Coming in!" a voice calls from the other side of the door. And then I see the owner of the voice come through the door.

She's a short girl with dark skin, brown eyes and slightly bushy hair. But all other observations about her fly out of the door when-

"Oh my god, I love your outfit."

She gestures to the red-and-black checkered jacket she's wearing with a pair of dark, slim pants and a chunky gold-coloured necklace. "This? It's really nothing." She raises an eyebrow. "But that's one hell of a way to make a first impression, boy." And...then she notices how naked I am. "Now go put some clothes on, I ain't talking to you in the nude."

I blush and quickly put on the bathrobe that is lying on my lap. "Sorry. I thought that you were...nevermind."

She raises an eyebrow and prompts me to go on. "Thought that I was what? Some ancient fart who was going to creep on you and then put you in some hideous coal miner's outfit?"

"Well...yes."

"Boy, you are trippin. They wouldn't let me skip out of school and become a stylist to do that."

"So you're..."

"Just about your age," she says. "And by the way, I'm Mercedes. Jones. And I know who you are."

"It's hard not to," I say dryly. "But I'm still a nobody."

Mercedes steps forward, scrutinizing me, then she gets a glint in her eyes that I don't quite trust. "Not for long. When I'm done with you, you will quite literally be a star."

And then she whisks me off to another room to be primped.

She was right. With smoldering eyes, mostly black clothes that look like they shimmer in the light and almost-copper hair, I look just like a star, even though I'm aching all over from the prep team scouring me off. I'm admiring my outfit in the mirror when Mercedes spins me around.

"Hummel, you're missing the entire point of the outfit." And with that, she pulls a flap on the pants open and presses a small button that I didn't even know was there.

Suddenly, the outfit gets even better and it completely takes my breath away.

"Mercedes. You are a genius." I say, awestruck. "You're completely mad, of course. But you. Are. A. Genius."

She tosses her hair. "I know. Now come on, we've spent 3 hours getting you all done up. You've got to be downstairs for the parade."

I only have time to wonder, "3 hours?" before she's whisking me away yet again, and I can't help feeling that this is going to become a thing.

Finn's already downstairs at the platform when I get there. He's dressed in clothes that are very similar to mine-minus the eyeshadow, I can't help but notice. Probably his choice, not mine. But his stylist-I think she's a girl named Sunshine-catches my eye and smiles at me.

"Dude!" Finn calls. "You look seriously sweet..."

I snort at the implications.

Finn notices and fidgets uncomfortably. "I didn't mean sweet like sweet, I meant cool. Even though technically you should be hot 'cause we're being like sparks, but-no, not that either."

I cross over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Finn. I get what you mean."

He sighs in relief. "Awesome. I can't really do words, and-"

I stop him. "You're making it worse."

"Okay."

"Have you seen the whole point of the suit yet?"

He looks confused. "Isn't this the point?"

I roll my eyes. "Oh, Finn. hat are we going to do with you?" And despite his protests, I reach over and undo the flap on the side of his pants, pressing the small button concealed there. And just as quickly, I press the button on mine and suddenly, we are glowing.

I'm not even kidding. We are emanating light, and the colours are shifting from shades of yellow to shades of orange. To put it simply, we are radiant.

And just like that, Mercedes is zooming over to us.

"Turn those off, you'll run out of power."

I quirk an eyebrow. "Shouldn't we be running on solar power?"

"Not funny," she sighs exasperatedly. But I do see a hint of a smile on her face. "What are we going to do with you?"

"You could actually get them outside!" calls April from where she's standing, trying to chat up some stylist wearing a hideous lion mane-esque headpiece. With a jolt, I realize that the tribute standing next to her is Blaine. He shoots me a small wave, but I can't really see what he's wearing because the monstrosity that is April's sequined pink dress is drowning everything out.

"Fine!" calls Mercedes, and she shoves Finn and I onto the float where we're supposed to be standing. Then, she gently adjusts my costume and stands on her tiptoes to give me a peck on the cheek.

"Keep your head up; be happy. Smile, wave, anything. Just go out there and make them love you." she says. Then she directs her gaze towards Finn. "You too, Sparky."

"W-huh?" Finn protests. "I don't even get that one."

"Well, I sure approve." says Coach Sylvester, coming out of nowhere. "Keep it up, Aretha, and some day you may just become as magnificent as I am. Good job on the outfits, by the way-you managed to make even Lumberjack Boy here look passable."

"Uh...thanks?" Mercedes says doubtfully.

"YOU TWO!" April nearly screams as she strides toward us, wobbling on her 6-inch heels. "You're supposed to get out there right now, now go!"

As she switches the float on so it starts to move, Finn and I hastily turn our costumes on. The last thing I see before we are swept into the parade circle is Mercedes and April, looking like they're about to rip each other's heads off.

I just hope they don't.

Most of the parade is a blur. All I really remember is a lot of flashing lights, Finn almost falling off the chariot and having to pull him up, and smiling so hard that my face hurts now.

But one thing is for sure: we were the most fabulous people there. No one, not even the stylists, could keep their eyes off of us. And most of the tributes spent a fair amount of time staring at us, but it soon turned from awe to disgust and they looked away. Except for Blaine, for some reason. He had his eyes on us the entire time, for some reason, and the expression on his face never wavered from complete...well, I'm not sure what it was. But it looked like utter admiration, so we'll go with that.

It would have been really flattering, but the entire sight was rather ludicrous when you noticed that Blaine was wearing a large, shapeless tree costume, and his district partner, a tall blonde girl with a vacant expression was absentmindedly playing with his curls.

But as Finn and I sit at the table for dinner, watching the highlights of a parade that neither of us really want to relive, everyone is gushing over our amazing outfits. It's clear that Mercedes and Sunshine are the stars of the night.

During one of April's many tirades about how certain stylists just don't appreciate the value of being on time for important events that can make someone's career as a publicist (while no one is really listening), Finn elbows me under the table. The parade show and commentary is still running on the long-forgotten TV. I try to ignore what he's doing, but eventually it gets too annoying to let slide.

"What, Finn?" I hiss.

He looks a bit shameful at hearing the harshness in my voice, but continues on quietly, so no one can hear him but me. "Why's that kid-Bland, or something, staring at you?"

I turn my head towards the TV at his words, and sure enough, Blaine is somewhere on the screen, his gaze fixed on our chariot.

"First of all, it's Blaine. And second of all, he's not staring at me." I hold up a finger. "He's staring at us, which makes perfect sense, because we look absolutely fabulous. And it's all Mercedes. So ask her." And then I take a minute to think this over. "No. Actually, don't. Just...he's not staring at me."

Finn starts to protest. "But he doesn't look at me-"

"Finnigan Hudson!"

"Fine." he says. Then, in a much softer tone, he mutters "And my name isn't Finnigan."

But it works, and that's the last word I hear about Blaine and his stupid tree costume for a while.

Even better, he's already asleep when I get into bed. And tonight, I don't have any nightmares. Just visions of little pink purses, fireworks in different colours and-hey. ...

There's an idea. I should talk to Mercedes about that. Maybe for the interview...

UP NEXT...Three days before the Games, and the stakes are high. Training's started, alliances are being made...really, Kurt doesn't have a chance if he doesn't get his act together soon. But getting his act together means getting attached to people, which is a very dangerous thing to do.

A/N: So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Utterly horrible?

Anywho, I'm dedicating this chapter to my friend Steph (WhoCaresChrisColfer), who's going to make a bit of a cameo-thing-appearance in a later chapter. (NO, SHE'S NOT GOING TO DIE.)

The next chapter can either be a three-parter or just one chapter, depending on what you guys want.

And on a side note, if you want my Tumblr, I'm happy to give it out to you. I'm just a bit hesitant of putting it on my profile because I don't want my Tumblr to link back to . (I have a couple of IRL friends on Tumblr...and really, one of them shouldn't know about fanfiction that I write. Ever.)

Reviews are awesome and they keep me going. Feel free to yell at me for taking so long. :)

-quickquotesquills