Swarms of chatter surrounded Finnick Odair as he made his way through the streets of Panem, city of the century. As he made his way around the corner, the glaring lights and crowded male models told him he was at his destination. The Capitol, the reining fashion industry in the whole of the city. Unusually attractive men waited patiently in lines, an occasional conversation passing him. Finnick lined up behind a blonde boy, visibly younger than him and holding the bigger chance of landing the three model spots available.
The blonde boy smiled kindly at Finnick, holding his hand out. "You trying out for the job too? I'm Peeta Mellark."
Finnick took the generous hand. "Finnick Odair. And yes, I am." The line began to move and with a simple 'good luck' exchanged between them, they parted and examined the exhibitions inside the glass cases. Female mannequins displayed crazy, yet highly fashionable outfit's the Capitol had made with their professional designers.
They were tested on the catwalk with and carefully assessed. Peeta, the boy he met, took his turn and soon it was Finnick's.
"Show me what you can do." A man, Cinna, said. His partner, Portia, gave Finnick a thumbs-up and he began strutting down the catwalk. They quickly wrote with their pens, their clipboards shaking a little with the fast-moving impact the pen made against paper. Finnick felt uneasy as he went back-stage where he was rushed to a neat, nice-smelling office where an elderly man with white hair and a beard sat with a younger man. The sign on his desk said "Gale Hawthorne". The elderly man looked at Finnick with a frighteningly blank look, then stood up and left
Finnick sat down in front of this Gale Hawthorne.
Gale with olive-skinned, with short dark brown hair and a tidy suit. Finnick took guys like that to be in shooting contests with disks and stuff. Not behind a mahogany (A/N: THAT IS MAHOGANY! :D ) desk with only a pen as a weapon.
"Finnick Odair, is it?" Gale smiled a little and put his hand out. "I'm Gale Hawthorne."
"I noticed." Finnick said as kindly as he could, shaking the other man's hand. Gale's hand was unusually cold and Finnick's warm. Both disliked the sensation, so the hand-shake was brief.
"Cinna and Portia tell me you're a natural model. Tell me, why did you want to become a model?" Gale shuffled his papers and leaned in on his desk.
"Well…" Finnick hesitated. "I just think being a model would be a nice experience. A few people comment on my looks, whether that's true or not, so.."
"Hmm.." Gale looked down at the papers quickly. Finnick wondered what was so interesting about paper. "You seem to have a clean record, as you know that the Capitol company doesn't encourage criminals inside their walls." He looked at Finnick as if he was scolding Finnick or something. "Would you like to become a model for the company?"
After agreeing, the rushing began again. He was brought into a room with a pale female with dark hair who seemed to be designing. Finnick looked over her shoulder, as she didn't seem to be aware of his existence in the room. Her hand had sketched an outfit for a male, possibly him, with a net wrapped around him and a trident in his hand.
"Um, excuse me?"
An 'eep' escaped from her lips as she pushed the chair back with a frightening yell of "What are you doing?!"
"I'm your new model!" He said, arms braced in front of his face.
The girl let out a sharp gasp and picked up the chair, quickly dusting Finnick off.
"Cresta. Annie Cresta." Finnick expected to have the third handshake in a day, but she simply grabbed her measuring tape.
"Finnick. Finnick Odair."
She smiled. "Finnick? I like that name. I assume I can call you Finn?"
"Erm, nobody's ever asked, but I guess it's okay." He shrugged.
Annie nodded, then started measuring Finnick's waist. It took half an hour for Annie to check Finnick's measurements. Finnick had registered her habits and features by then. When she was in deep concentration, she ignored everything that happens around her. When she smiled, her eyes exaggerated her smile that little bit more. She chewed on her pen when she was reading a contract. She dislikes it when Finnick moved when she measured and pokes his ribs with the back of her pen.
"Okay, I've got it. Come back tomorrow and I can discuss with your special preferences that I can associate with my masterpieces. Tune in to Channel Seven tonight, okay?" She grinned, then returned to scribbling notes. Finnick waved and closed the door lightly, returning home.
While he was walking back to his apartment, Finnick was in a daze. He'd landed the big paying job he'd dreamt of, met a good partner and surpassed some men that would've most likely gotten his job if he weren't there. Was there any reason not to be?
After opening his door and crashing down on the leather couch, Finnick turned on the TV and found himself watching some fashion show called "The Hunger Games."
It was a ruthless show. If you didn't strut good enough, your partner was slack or if you just didn't make anything that entertained viewers, you were immediately eliminated. The winner gets riches, glory and a great job in the modelling career. The judges were Effie Trinket, the overly cheery lady with over done makeup, Haymitch Abernathy, the drunken man who never took judging seriously and the man he'd met in the office, Coriolanus Snow.
Coriolanus was the most critical judge of them all. He was very hard to please and it was very easy for you to be eliminated near a man like him. He seemed to be some kind of hotshot in the fashion industry. Finnick narrowed his eyes. He was the partner of Gale Hawthorne and owned the Capitol company or to dumb it down, Finnick's big boss.
The ones on TV were reruns. The real Games were starting in three weeks time. The teams, called Districts, were two females and two males in one district. They chose who was the stylist and who was the model. District One included a lovely young teenage girl with blonde hair and the kind of face that states obvious mocking, another similar female with an older face and bigger build and the males were a very tall young boy with dark hair and the sister of the older female, some guy who'd put all the Capitol male models to shame with his smile. District Two were the same; an older and a younger girl with similar looks and an older and younger boy that looked muscular and tough. After the other district had passed through, the face of Finnick was pasted onto the TV. His mouth opened, along with Annie's face, then the still-young looking 40 year old and another young boy with curly red hair.
The echoes of Annie's words repeated themselves. Tune in at Channel Seven tonight, okay?
Returning to work, Finnick demanded why he was in the Games without permission.
"It's what all the newbie models do, Finnick. Didn't the others tell you?" Annie asked.
"No. I mean, you could've at least said 'Oh, yeah, Finnick, there's this games thing and you've gotta win or you're going to be fired, so that's alright'!" Finnick said angrily.
He spotted the daily Capitol magazine in the metal bin with little holes in it. Finnick grabbed it and opened it on the page Annie's name was mentioned and read out loud.
"Annie Cresta, Finnick Odair, Margaret "Mags" Blackshaw and Elliot Johnson are the District 4 representatives, competing against the Careers, District 1 & 2, along with the other district. After being dubbed as small fry because of Annie Cresta's ending in the Final Three with the insane net dress for her male partner, Joseph Greene, she was eliminated. After gathering information from Coriolanus Snow, he said she was 'unfit for the modelling career, completely useless as a designer and only good for washing dishes'. Will we see Annie Cresta in your local diner as a dish-washer? You gave your say and 93% of you said yes and 7% of you said no. Our new poll is; 'Is there a new romance between Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta?" The options are 'Yes and I support them', 'Yes, but I don't support them', 'No, but I'd support them' and 'No and I don't support them'. Give your answer at _ !"
Annie whimpered as Finnick left, watching him slam the door. "I thought you were a good partner, Annie" were their parting words.
Finnick, on his way home, took a few back turns when he was walking home. Occasionally, he'd take a step back then keep walking. Then at that time when he decided to go back and apologize, cold hands grabbed him into the discarded alley and knocked him out with a brick. The last thing he glimpsed before his fall into unconsciousness was the bright blonde curls of District One.