The rest of the night passed by uneventfully. Rowan was a little nicer to me, Gabriella flirted unabashedly with everyone and Cameria looked at me with pride every time I sassily glanced around the room. Which wasn't often as I spent most of the time staring at the black noodles in blue sauce that I was attempting to eat.
I went to sleep lonely and anticipated. Tomorrow was the last day before the Games. I didn't feel ready, but what else could I do? I couldn't prepare in any way for this except sleep and eat: get my strength up. So that's what I did: I slept. Big rah rah.
When I woke up I wasn't exactly refreshed, but I wasn't tired so it's the best I could do. My Prep team were looming over me (minus Celestial Shimmer), squawking worse than an alarm clock. I let them lead me to a prep room and they went to work. I had no idea how this was going to last all day- the Interviews were at least ten hours away- but I just took whatever they threw at me, too downcast to care. I let my sassiness roll off me in cold waves so I was mostly ignored by way of conversation. My Kindness stopped me from yelling at them to shut up every time they reached a new octave, so they should count themselves lucky.
"So I heard a rumour about the Games!" Lizette screeched a few hours in. I had been showered, scrubbed down and waxed in all the appropriate places. I blinked at her, my eyes focussing for the first time in hours.
"Oh!" Shinette warbled. "Spill, spill!"
Their voices were so high pitched it felt like my skull was going to split open.
"I heard, I heard, I heard," Shinette said very fast, "I heard that the arena was going to be basically an island surrounded by the ocean!" I wanted to point out that all islands were surrounded by the ocean before what she said actually hit me.
My heart sank as I digested her words. I'd never been taught to swim. If this rumour was true, I was going to be dead before the first day was out.
How embarrassing.
"And," Shinette crowed, drawing out the 'a', "Elmore Pudge said-"
"Elmore Pudge! That's who you heard this off?" Barette sneered. "You know he's a flat-rate addict who has no idea what he's saying!"
My heart stuttered in response, and, for the first time in many hours, I raised my head independently. So the rumour may not be true. Maybe I could banish the thoughts of stepping off the plate before the first sixty seconds were up to save myself from showing the world I couldn't swim.
They bantered for a while longer on the eligibility of Pudge while combing out my hair and rubbing lotion all over my body. My tan they gave me for the Parade had faded, so my skin was a pinkish-white, still darker than it was when I arrived, but it was being fixed as I watched the lotion darken my skin from pasty pale to sun-kissed brown. It made my freckles stand out more and the brown of my eyes look... warmer. Barette happily told me this tan would most likely last the length of the Games. Whoopee.
They filed my nails and painted them with clear lacquer and repeated with my feet (I think I lost most of my masculinity points as I watched them give me a mani/pedi without complaint). They found a tiny brush and started combing my leg hair, and I kept silent. A thousand phrases and snarks were going through my head but I just couldn't be bothered saying anything to these people. It would just go through one ear and out the other. There was no point.
They started work on my face next. The put a cream on my lips that they told me would make them fuller and pinker- I think my masculinity points were in the negative by then- and they put a foundation on, powdering across my cheeks, along my forehead, down my nose and chin and continuing down my neck. They outlined my eyes a little with a brown eyeliner and brushed out my eyelashes to make them long enough to cast shadows over my cheeks in the right light.
"Ike. Isaac. Dude," I heard. My eyes snapped open from where I was lying on the table in a state of meditation my Prep Team called 'Aw He's Sleeping, Better Not Disturb Him' and I called 'Acting Keeps Them Quiet'.
"Sorry," I said to Lizette who was commanding my attention. My lips stuck together a little because of the cream on them.
"Can we do your hair?" He asked. I sat up now, facing him, trying to ignore the vulnerability of my nakedness.
"What do you want to do with it?" I inquired softly.
"We were thinking about trimming it- a little," he added hastily, seeing my evil eye. "And putting some tips through it."
"Tips?" I asked, my lips smacking slightly due to the cream.
"Like, putting some brown streaks through it." He elaborated for me. I narrowed my eyes, but ended up shrugging and agreeing due to lethargy. I couldn't care anymore.
So they washed my hair through for the second time that day and then combed and trimmed it. I felt very pampered as I had three glittering people scamper about me. They gave great head massages, which was apparently to rub through the conditioning agent, but seeing as it was Barette who was giving it, I assumed it was because he liked me. When my glistening curls had dried they evenly placed foils through it and told me to relax for a little while the dye did its work and they proceeded to labour on other parts of my body.
When they finally finished- and by finished I meant finally wiping the accursed cream off my lips and taking the foils out of my hair and stopping with the work on the rest of my body- I was surprised. This made the job they did on me on the Parade night look second-hand.
My hair looked cool, the brown looking even and somewhat natural, not too light but doing me justice more than felony. The foundation hid the bumps and marks on my face, but was light enough so my freckles could be seen through it. My eyes did not make me look less manly but more handsome and the gold flecks I never noticed in my brown iris' showing through. My lips were a bit too feminine for my taste though, full and plump and dark pink, but my Team just told me it looked like I'd just come from a make-out session. I don't know whether that was a compliment or not, this close to the Games. My body looked lithe and tan, the little amount of weight I'd been able to put on doing me good and now I wasn't all angles and bones. I had some substance. The only thing that was wrong that I could pick out was how dull and flat my eyes were: how little my face expressed emotions at all.
I twisted my mouth as an experiment. The movement looked jerky and unnatural, just an empty shell pulling at muscles making the shadow of a sneering expression. I shook my head to clear it, the lethargic empty feeling, but it didn't work. I needed an energy boost. Some sort of adrenaline rush, but I was just drained and... pathetic. I wasn't even fighting any more.
Eh.
I waited in a fluffy robe until Celestial Shimmer strode in, a suit bag draped over one arm and a chummy smile on her face. I rolled my eyes and swung my legs from where I was seated on the makeover table, and felt a tiny speck of feeling in my tummy. I sighed in relief and it grew. Not much, but it grew. I could still feel. Bonus.
Celestial whipped out a suit that wasn't completely horrendous. Actually, if I saw it at a shop in Seven (as if any shop in Seven would have something that fancy in it), I would think twice before setting it on fire. It came with black dress shoes, thin socks and a tie that evolved from the green base to the auburn part that knotted at my throat.
Celestial Shimmer gave me undergarments and the thin black dress socks to put on myself and that was the only and last manual work I did for myself that whole day, I think. She wiggled me into the pants, then, (because apparently I was incapable of putting on pants, however fancy, by myself) and whipped a belt through the loops, working quickly with the clasp. The pants were nothing special, just black with no fitting, ending just as they touched the tops of my feet. Celestial then proceeded to pull a black button-down silken shirt on my thin shoulders and rapidly putting the buttons through their comparative holes, though she did not button the highest one on my collar, letting me breathe a little. She tucked the shirt in then, making me feel very uncomfortable with the feel of her hands delving down my pants, but it was over soon enough. The shirt itself was snug and fitted well, the cuffs of the long sleeves ending exactly where my hands ended and the wrists began.
I smiled happily, joy surging softly though me, and made grabby hands when Celestial brought out a waistcoat. She tugged it on and murmured her first words to me since she arrived. "Cameria told me you liked them," She said, and I chuckled. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad. I had a waistcoat, after all. And I could feel again.
My stylist then proceeded the knot the tie around my neck, but she didn't tie it to precise perfection. She let the knot be twisted a little, not as tight as regulation formal ties, and loose enough you could still see the undone button on my collar and the look was overall... casual. For a formal suit. And she left the end untucked where it would usually be slipped into the waistcoat. I liked that.
Celestial shucked on my blazer next, tugging the collar hard around my neck and straightening the lapels. She smoothed the shoulders and arms, tugging the sleeves of my shirt down where they had ridden up. She jerked the bottom of the suit jacket down, and I swore if she yanked one more time on anything I was going to pull on her hair and see how she liked it. I felt like I was being hauled in every direction. She finished by fastening up the blazers two buttons and smoothing her hands down my chest, pulling lightly (not hard enough for me to follow up on my threat) on the hem, for once smiling at her accomplishment.
And I had to admit, it was, indeed, an accomplishment. This look was so far off from being dressed as a tree it was like that had never happened. My suit fitted perfectly- I had to wonder if they'd gotten my measurements while I was sleeping because I don't remember giving them out- and it was... gorgeous.
And there go the last of my masculinity points.
The base colour was charcoal black. The only things that weren't black were the tie and an embroided stem of leaves from each sleeve up to the hem line on my shoulder. The embroidery was beautiful- the colours were the same of that of my tie, the green on the leaves and the auburn being the thin line representing a branch that connected the leaves. It was intricate but not unrealistic. It was subtle enough to not make the suit look ridiculously spiffed but enough to avoid the dreary look of a plain suit.
I lifted my hands to straighten my tie but Celestial Shimmer seized my wrists in a vice-like grip. "Nuh-Uh," She chided. "Rowan told me you were going for 'humorous' and this look is fabulous." Her voice was too pitchy and I winced. I suppose I should have thanked her, but her fingers were digging into my wrists under my shirt cuffs and her fingernails left little crescent-shaped marks when she finally let go. I coughed and squirmed instead.
Cameria was waiting for me in the hall. When I saw her I spread my arms and tweaked my mouth a little. "How do I look?" I smirked. Hell, I knew I looked awesome. Maybe that should have been my angle.
Cameria squealed and reminded me of my bobble-headed Capitol Fangirl from Parade Night. She pounced on me, being careful not to mess any pieces of clothing up but eyeing me hungrily. I swallowed nervously and shifted away from her. We started walking towards the sitting room closest to the elevator, and I was starting to feel again.
"Oh, Ike, you look absolutely scrumptious!" Cameria eyed me off again, her eyes darting from the tips of my shoes back to my eyes. I avoided an awkward conversation about how edible I appeared when Gabriella joined us in the sitting room, stomping in gracelessly with heeled shoes but looking proud of herself and her outfit.
Gabriella and I matched, like on Parade Night, but obviously she wasn't in a damn sexy suit. We were... compatible. She was wearing an appealing dress that was the same colour as my tie. It was strapless and fell to mid-thigh and had a black ribbon tied tightly below her bust so it bowed the dress in and showed her lack of fat. It was also ridged with pleats giving it a pleasant effect, though it wasn't overwhelming as they didn't take the main focus of the dress. She wore some high-heeled ankle boots on her feet and her fingernails were painted with the same fading colours, green to auburn, and I had no idea how they painted them like that. Her skin wasn't as tanned as mine, though it looked a little browner than before. Her eyes were lined thickly and her eyelashes were clumped what I supposed was stylishly with makeup (which I didn't think was a good look). Her hair was out and straightened, but the front was braided off her face.
I frowned a little when I realised my lips were pinker and fuller than hers.
I nodded hello to her, and I felt the blush rise in my cheeks as I saw her eyes appraising me from my shoes to my hair like Cameria had done. I tried to take it in my stride, but as her eyes found mine I realised that if Gabriella was doing this then what hope was there for those shameless Capitol women who you saw on the television every year saying disgusting things about the Tributes' bodies. I shuddered, then appreciated the thought that at least it would raise my sponsors and, for once, I looked good, knew it, and other people thought so too.
So I took a breath in and straightened my shoulders, returning to my funny, cocky self.
"Like what you see?" I rumbled to Gabriella. For once she didn't duck and blush at my comment.
"Don't flatter yourself. You just look less ugly than normal," She answered, huffing out a breath and flipping her long hair back. I knew that I must look smoking if she had complimented me like that. I grinned widely at her and, though she looked taken-aback, she must had realised she complimented me because the blush finally surfaced on her face. I smirked and walked the rest of the way to the elevator.
I saw a majority of the other Tributes were already in the Training Centre when I arrived. I looked around for someone I liked and spotted the Twins from Eleven. I started to wander towards them when Cameria stopped me and told me to stay with the Seven crew as we moved to the wall nearest to the elevator. I grumbled and took to waving at Rhododendron and Honeysuckle over the heads of other Tributes. They saw me and gave simultaneous waves back in my direction, looking eerily alike in all but costume.
I must have been depriving my Kindness lately as it seemed to want to take desperate measures. It nudged me to sidle up to Gabriella and when I was by her elbow I decided this may be the last full conversation I have with her. That perked me up.
"How're you feeling?" I asked her as sombrely as I could with a straight face. She jerked around and looked at me through narrowed eyes, appraising me as if I had an alternate angle. I couldn't help myself and I felt the corner of my mouth pull up in a smile, even though she had me with my back against the wall.
"Fine," Gabriella tossed her head and growled at me. I kept smiling at her.
"Okay," I answered, realising that she didn't want this conversation to go anywhere. I was cool with that.
"Is this some strategy, Isaac?" She snapped at me, getting in my face all of a sudden. "Being all nice to me, hoping to find out my tactics, hoping that, if we're friends now, it'll stop me from breaking your stupid neck tomorrow?" She was positively snarling at me towards the end. I whistled. Colour me pink with embarrassment. Here I was, thinking she'd changed.
"Just making conversation, princess. Don't ruffle your skirts." I rolled my eyes. She didn't seem to have evolved any social etiquette during her stay here as she was still uncomfortably in my space and I had to lean backwards to keep her body off mine. I shifted on my feet, awkward, but was saved, thankfully, by Gracewyn and Jonathan popping out of the elevator.
"Hi," Jonathan chirped, eyeing the distance, or lack of, between me and Gabriella.
"Howdy," I reciprocated, observing his fully black suit. It even had a breast pocket with a pitch dark handkerchief in it with a corner folded politely over the top. "Attending a funeral?" I quipped, raising an eyebrow.
Jonathan was about to answer with what promised to be a sneaky comment by the look on his face before Gabriella cut in front of him and said, "Yours, hopefully,"
I rolled my eyes again. "That's illogical, Gab," I retorted. She thankfully moved away from my then so I didn't have to lean away from her to avoid some awkward face-smushing, but she still stood so close that I had to angle my body so we didn't touch. Damn the wall and my inability to step away. I turned my eyes to Gracewyn.
"Wow," I whistled. She glared at me, and I just grinned back, keeping up the cocky front. But I could tell she saw through it so, for once, she laughed and smiled at me without, you know, looking like she wanted to kill me.
She was in a simple black slip of a dress with strappy shoulders. It was tight enough to draw attention to her curves but loose enough to leave some of it up to the people's imaginations. It also had ribbons of different shades of grey threaded around it, drawing the bodice in and lining where it ended around mid-thigh. It was very pretty and quite flattering. On her feet were strappy heels that weren't too high but accentuated the delicate arches of her feet. Her nails (on hands and feet) were painted the same colour as her hair, which was pulled in a ponytail that was waved and curled.
"You're not too bad yourself," She smiled at me. This made me so happy, because, for once, Gracewyn was talking, smiling and laughing with no effort to glare or snarl at anyone who was even looking at Jonathan. Must be a big effort on her part, maybe she was finally letting him go.
And then Jonathan looped his arm around my shoulders and lent on the wall with me and I saw Gracewyn's face fall and close off. I stared pitying at her but made no move to remove Jonathan's arm. He didn't seem to notice though, and just waved at Marhkuhs (with two h's and a k) across the room. I smiled at gestured too, seeing his lanky figure over the top of the other Tributes, keeping my focus off Gracewyn.
It was selfish, I know. I wanted all the friends I could gather because I was desperate and craving warmth before the end. I wanted these things even at the expanse of Gracewyn losing what I gained. And yes, it hurt me that it was wounding her, but my selfishness was holding me back from giving her friendship too. So I moved away from her, Jonathan trailing me because of the arm around me, and we squeezed past Gabriella and, against Cameria's indignant cries, met up with Jonathan and the Twins around the middle of the floor.
We chatted idly for a little while until, I presumed, all the Tributes were assembled and we were ordered around into single file with the female from District One at the stage entrance. We were in ascending Districts with the boys in line after the girls. We were all shifting awkwardly and for once I didn't feel the need to talk, feeling my nerves peak because I couldn't hide from them anymore.
A brawny Peacekeeper walked to the head of the procession and cleared his throat. He was decked out in full uniform except for his helmet, so they must finally trust us enough to believe we wouldn't brain him with the closest inanimate object. What noise there was died as we all turned attention to the thickset man at the head of the line. He thrust out his chest and put his hands behind his back, standing as erect as possible. Someone had the nerve to giggle as he rocked back on his heels in a scarce moment of imbalance. Idiot. I hoped it wasn't one of my idiots.
"Tributes!" The Peacekeeper barked, like he didn't already have out undivided attention. "Your Interviews are about to commence. In regard to the audience out there, there will be rules in place. Any rules broken and you will be... punished." My mouth went dry. "Firstly, you need to know that this is an audience of all ages. Keep it family friendly. No swearing or blatant sexual terms, or anything else... unsavoury." His eyes glinted dangerously as he appraised us. "Secondly, if you try anything," I could see his eyes because he was without his visor and they were widened to their full potential. Gold star, Mr. Muscle. "We will know about it. Thirdly," His shoulders and eyes relaxed. "Go along with Emlyn. She's your host so be grateful. End speech." He turned to go, and I ducked my chin into my chest as I turned a snort of laughter into a quiet snuffle at the fact he ended his lecture with end speech. Ah, Capitol People.
He turned back to us Tributes sharply and I raised my head back in a nanosecond, hurting my neck in doing so. He had his hand pressed to his ear and I saw a little earpiece. He must be receiving a message. "One more thing," Not a message, it seemed, but a reminder. "Have fun, kiddos." He rolled his eyes but someone must have ordered him to say that because Big n' Beefy there didn't seem to give out encouragements all that often. Only the fact that I was fighting for my life stopped me from beaming back at him and chirping a gleeful 'Aye, aye, Captain!' As it was, I gave him a faint smile which was not returned in the slightest. Maybe he missed it.
And then, before I knew it, we were being ushered onto the stage. I blinked in the sudden light and tried not to trip over my feet as I walked the last few legs to my chair. I did my best, though. Every step I walked how Cameria taught me. My head was up, tilted ever-so-slightly to the side, a smirk dancing on my lips. When I reached the miniature throne that I was the claim for the night, I lowered myself slowly and sat with my legs slightly apart but back straight and eyes attentive. I had to be arrogant but dutiful. This was the fight for my survival, after all.
