Last Chance (Louis Tomlinson Fanfiction)

Louis Tomlinson is a normal fifteen year old boy- well, if normal meant living in the largest human settlement for hundreds of years. The great and powerful Panem.

It's time for The Fifth Annual Hunger Games, the main entertainment the people in the Capitol always look forward to.

Unfortunately it's Louis who's name has been drawn. Not only is he forced to leave behind his family, and his friends, Louis is forced to leave behind his girlfriend, Eleanor, to take part in a bloodthirsty fight to the death between him and twenty-three other tributes.

He says to Eleanor before he leaves, that he will try to win. For her. But things get more difficult when his love for Eleanor and his faith becomes his lifeline, and much, much more.

It's his Last Chance for survival.

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3. Opening Ceromonies

Not even a minute had passed once we had gotten off the train were we herded towards the remake center, from which I endured several painful injections to my face, my leg hair ripped up, and my hair washed and trimmed, leaving me feeling a lot like a plucked turkey, ready for roasting. It wasn't until noon, when my stylist agreed to meet me to discuss the night's costume. And if it wasn't bad enough without all the injections to my face, she took one look at me before sighing. "Such a shame, a pretty boy like you got drawn..." 

By the time my blood was spilled in the arena I doubt she would care that much.

"My name is Chester. I will be your stylist for the next few days." Chester was the complete opposite of everyone back home, and even the other people in the Capitol. She'd had about ten plastic surgeries too many, but I guess it suited her. Pink hair, pink skin- I mean hot pink skin, like the color of the pink sunset back home. Chester had purple and pink gems planted into her, well, her boobs. She was wearing a pink two-two. If I had to say it, she looked ridiculous. And I swore right then, if she were going to put me in something like that then I would kill myself. 

Chester surprised me even more when she led me over to a table, pressed a button and the lunch popped out of the center of the table. I attacked it savagely. Chicken stew, served with roast potatoes and vegetables. 

Chester watched me carefully. And when I was done stuffing myself, she stood up and walked out of the room. 

She left the door open.

 Unlocked.

If I wanted to I could just walk out right now. 

Too late, she'd already returned, carrying a hanger with a plastic cover on it. Hiding tonight's outfit. "Eyes closed, Louis." I feel her  removing my thin robe, making me blush, I'm never comfortable with people looking at my body. 

Then I feel her gently pulling on something soft, and velvety. "Step into the trousers please." I obeyed, eager to cover up what body I could as fast as possible. "Okay. Open."

I open my eyes, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. All I can see is green. Green and brown. I am wearing a suit, not unlike the one Mark lent me. Except this one is made almost entirely from green velvet. 

The trousers are green velvet, as is the brown shirt. The waistcoat which I wear is not made from velvet. It's made from a combination of oak leaves and pine needles, held together with... Maple sap? What happens if it melts?

"It wont melt, it's genetically modified sap. It could be torched and it'd be fine. It's fire-proof." Chester said, as if reading my thoughts. "Hang on. I almost forgot." She placed a small, willow crown onto my head. "There. That should do it. Now just the makeup." I see her hands blur as she adds streaks and shadows to my face, highlighting my eyes, making me unforgettable, in my mind anyway.

"What about Carrie? What's she wearing?" I asked.

"So you can talk!" Chester exclaims. "Good. And to answer your question, you'll just have to wait and see."

It is time for me to meet Carrie for the chariot ride through the Capitol, and the other tributes. 

Carrie's wearing a dress, that is made from the same leaves my waist coat is made from. It is short, and only goes down to her mid-thighs. Her hair is up in a tight bun, and again, she's making no effort not to look terrified. But she reflects my own, hidden feelings. We stand on the chariot, pulled by two chestnut mares, and wait as the other tributes, from districts 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 and 9 file out ahead of us. Then it's our turn. I take a deep breath and the chariot moves forward. The horses are well trained enough to follow the chariot ahead. I'm holding onto the side of the chariot, hoping to God I wont tumble out, when Carrie grasps my arm. "I'm going to fall out." She says shakily. I hold onto her arm, not particularly happy with this arrangement, and go back to staring into the far distance ahead.

There is cheering, screaming all around us, as people cheer on their favorites and boo the ones they don't like. I hear my name, being chanted over and over again, they'd found that out from the program and remembered it. 

All too soon, our chariot reaches the city center, and stops in front of the President Water's balcony. He is standing there, an old man of 73, and delivering the welcoming, opening speech. "Welcome to the 5th annual Hunger Games!" Cheers and applause. "The twenty four tributes..." It goes on and on, and I stop paying attention. I am jerked back to reality when the chariot starts moving again, back the way we had come. 

The moment it stopped, I hopped off, dragging Carrie with me. The other tributes are glaring at each other, sizing each other up, and occasionally throwing angry glances in our direction. Especially from district 2, 4 and 6. They already hate us, already want to kill us, to weed out the weaklings so the real Games can begin.

I hope I die in a way that people will remember me.

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