By noon they will all be at my new house in the Victor’s Village. The reporters, the camera crews, even Effie Trinket, my old escort, will have made their way to District 12 from the Capitol.
I wonder if Effie will still be wearing that silly pink wig, or if she’ll be sporting some other unnatural color especially for the Victory Tour. There will be others waiting, too.
A staff to cater to my every need on the long train trip. A prep team to beautify me for public appearances.
My stylist and friend, Cinna, who designed the gorgeous outfits that first made the audience take notice of me in the Burger Eating Contest.
If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Burger Eating Contest entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream. But the Victory Tour makes that impossible.
Strategically placed almost midway between the annual burger contest, it is the Capitol’s way of keeping the horror fresh and immediate.
Not only are we in the districts forced to remember the iron grip of the Capitol’s power each year, we are forced to celebrate it. And this year, I am one of the stars of the show.
I will have to travel from district to district, to stand before the cheering crowds who secretly loathe me, to look down into the faces of the families whose children I have killed…