**EDIT - It must have been really bloody late when I wrote this because for some reason I wrote that Clark Kent was Batman... *Hides in shame* All is restored now so we can move on**
A/N- Sooooo yes hello I am not dead I apologise but I AM SO BAD AT UPDATING OMG
*existential crisis over*
ha
But firstly I shall - very lately - respond to the review from last chapter and that response is : HERE YOU GO
ALSO T-HANK-YOU to SunWillRise2340 for favouriting you little custard cream
So this is a shorter chapter than the other novel length ones I'm used to writing because I have literally had the worst writer's block on this fic AND my other one -_- So that's an excuse for my absence this time. heh. eheh. nope.
And then read the A/N that shall undoubtedly be at the bottom of this story, because it will have a question that I would love you to answer if you would like to.
BUT NOW I SHALL SAY GOODBYE AND HAVE A NICE READ.
Haha you thought I was going to let you read the chapter haha nope DISCLAIMER FIRST PEOPLE -
I do not own the Hunger Games. Not now. Not tomorrow. Maybe later. No not later either.
now read
The nights since the one I spent with Darius have each been alike to the first. Although, those times, without the moments when we would both shy away from each other due to Darius' being made an Avox.
The interviews are tonight. And right now I am sitting in prep with Vondis pulling out stray hairs from my body with a pair of tweezers. It is early, very early. Katniss and Peeta are excused from being mentored in etiquette by Haymitch and Effie but Gale and I are not, having never done this before. I am not looking forward to it.
"Looking forward to your session with Effie in a few hours?" Vondis asks as he runs the tweezers under a tap spouting water with a slight purple tinge.
"I can't wait." I reply flatly, and he lets out an over enthusiastic and loud laugh. This startled me on the first occasion that it happened, but now I have learned to expect it more often than it should happen so I am spared the pain of jolting out of fright into whatever instrument is at my skin.
"I'll give you some tips," He says light-heartedly, "Help make it as short as possible." He mumbles through gritted teeth in a joking fashion. He then puts the tweezers down and roots around in a tray underneath the surface I am laid on, bringing up a small instrument with a rough looking pad on the end which spins around when he pushes in a button on the end, making a soft whirring sound.
"Back straight, shoulders back, head up and boobs forward." The rough pad tickles as it brushes my leg, "Best advice I've ever been given." Vondis says with a wink and another loud laugh.
I don't reply, simply lay my head back and wait for the primping to be over.
"Back straight!" Effie chirps at me as I creep around the dining room with a bone china plate on my head, "More confidence!"
The plate smashes as it hits the floor just like the previous twelve, and Effie picks another up and places it in the place of the last.
This has been going on for an hour now, and I'm not sure that Effie is going to realise that not much has, or will change.
"Smile! You want them to like you, not pity you!"
Pity is better than hatred I can't help but think, but instead of speaking I contort my features into a smile and lengthen my back slowly so as not to drop the plate.
After walking like this for ten minutes Effie finally sighs in relief, takes the plate from my head and collapses into a chair whilst calling for an Avox to clear away the smashed china. "Lunchtime, I think." She says in a breathy voice, as though she is the one who has been walking back and forth under constant commands.
After lunch I am sent to spend an hour with Haymitch before I meet with Klaive to get dressed for the interview. This hour is to decide on how I am to be portraying myself, Katniss, Peeta and Gale at the interview tonight. I take a very deep breath before I step around the door to the television room, readying all of my best retorts for this time as Haymitch has not left me alone with the jibes since I got my glasses.
"Katniss and Peeta are still going with their 'unrequited love' act." He announces as soon as I enter the television room where he sits. "We need you and Gale to completely contrast them." He takes a swig of whatever spirit he has in a glass beside him, but doesn't seem drunk at the moment.
"I was thinking-" He goes to continue, but I interrupt him.
"Wait, 'unrequited love' act?" I ask incredulously, eyebrows raising the roof.
The realisation sweeps over Haymitch's face in an instant, mixed with almost a sadness. "Sit down Clark Kent."
I roll my eyes at the new dig at my glasses as I sink into the chair. "You know, I think you might have caught the only other person in a four hundred kilometre radius that gets that reference."
There was once a time where Haymitch had become infatuated with, what I thought was an ancient cult. He would send me centuries old comics, printed on paper not shown on screens. And he would obsess over one particular character 'Clark Kent' or more over his alter ego 'Superman'.
This had occupied my spare time for a while once.
"I forgot you've grown up in this place." Haymitch mumbles, bringing me back to the conversation at hand, "With the Capitol lot. Least we know it's believable now."
I shake my head, "But they're getting married!" I exclaim, without anything else crossing my mind.
"That was a ploy," Haymitch says, "For the victory tour, to prevent a full scale uprising."
I swallow nothing, stare at the air for about three seconds and then turn to him and continue, "Right. Well now that I actually know my teammates let's get on with it."
Haymitch coughs and shakes his hand, "Absolutely, right so I was thinking that you could just go right ahead with a sarcastic, arrogant, not likeable but intriguing angle. How does that sound?"
I raise my eyebrows at him, "Just like you then?"
He shifts in his chair, although not uncomfortably, "I've been thinking on Chaff's constant 'observations' about us two, and I thought we should play on it. It might work, and it's what you're good at..."
"Watch it." I cut him off jokingly.
"Just like that, you're not needed here anymore, go and find Klaive; he hasn't got wine to drink." Haymitch shoos me out of the room, pouring himself a glass from a black bottle by the side of his chair.
I find Klaive after the hour I supposedly spent with Haymitch is up, and he shows me into the same room that we were shown our procession costumes in.
"I've been given instructions, as has Yvelle, to make you, and in her case Gale, as forgettable as possible." He says, as I jump into the armchair which swivels slightly.
"But Haymitch just told me to be intriguing." I reply, dragging out the word 'intriguing' as if the whole thing is a joke, which it almost is to me mind now.
"And intriguing you shall be." He clicks his fingers and the wood panelling of the wall slides back to reveal the place every garment is kept once the stylists have rendered it 'complete'.
I have to admit the reaction from me is a little less enthusiastic than Klaive was probably expecting.
The dress is black, knee length, made of a material that is thick on the body, but thins as it reaches the skirt. Where the skirt meets the body there are two large cuts from the sides, which reveal the skin beneath.
As the mannequin slowly rotates so that I can view the entire garment I notice that the back of the dress is a little more interesting. The whole dress has a cut covering the entire length of the centre of the back. This effectively means that without the ribbons which lace the two sides together, the dress could be laid out from end to end as just a piece of material. The skirt also has ribbons which lace it together from the small of the back downwards.
"No pictures this time then?" I ask, turning to Klaive to grin at him while he shakes his head.
"It serves the purpose of making you look intriguing, like you mean business and also absolutely beautiful I am sure of it." He explains, motioning for me to sit down. "It also doesn't make a huge statement, so you'll be left to the background on anything but your personality."
"It looks like I mean business alright. Like, fighting a law suit." I reply, not overly taken with this dress.
"Well, lawyers can be sexy." He raises, whilst arching one eyebrow and reclining in his chair.
"Lawyers are boring sexy. Like, 'I've got five minutes in this bathroom stall if you're game' sexy."
I let out a loud burst of laughter at my comment and it's immaturity.
"My Mother is a lawyer." Klaive states, looking at me whilst ruffling his own hair.
Shit.
"Ah... Well that's... Sorry." I mutter, fighting to keep the grin from returning to my face.
"Don't be, she's a bitch." He flips off, standing up immediately and motioning for myself to do the same. "Get it on, and call me back in so I can take final adjustment notes." He flicks my nose and glides out of the room like the nymph-like creature he is.
I have to admit, once the dress is on I begin to fall in love with it.
The material on the body feels so comfortable it could be a sweater, but looks so stiff you wouldn't want to move in it if you could watch yourself. The sleeves are my favourite part however, long and tight fitting right up to the wrists, completely opaque yet I can't feel them there at all.
"You done yet?" Klaive raps on the door.
"I can't do it up." I call back, "Probably should have thought that one out Einstein."
The door swishes open and Klaive springs in, "What's an einstein?" He asks as he begins to re-lace the ribbons through the eyelets, "And why did you unlace the whole thing?"
I let my mouth drop slightly before realising that not everybody has had the same amount of spare time as I have over the years, and not everybody is as clued up in foreign earth history as I am. "Famous genius." I reply, deciding not to go into detail about Albert Einstein. "And I didn't, my leg did."
"Sometimes I wonder how you get dressed each day."
"It makes for traumatic viewing."
"I weep for those who have endured it." Klaive shoots back with a certain nonchalance to his voice, motioning for me to move my arms around to check the fit.
After about half an hour of various measurements and movements and posing and note taking, Klaive seems happy with himself.
"Perfect as usual." He mutters with a satisfied tone to his words. Then he turns to face me, looking at me like an adult would a two year old. "Can you undress yourself without dying or worse damaging the dress?"
"I think I can manage." I laugh, feeling around my back for the end of the ribbon.
"I can call Darius if you like," Klaive teases as he nears the door, "He'd be happy to help."
The sound of the shoe hitting the wall reverberates loudly and I can only just hear Klaive's laughter behind the door.
"Those throwing skills will do you well soon enough." I hear him say between laughs, and I can't help but join in.
A/N - SO THAT WAS REAL FLUFFY AND I DIDN'T EVEN REALISE OOPS.
oh well you read it and that's what I love about you
yes you
anyway, that **REALLY IMPORTANT QUESTION** I need to ask you is this - u gon laf k - 'I have sketches of the dress I described for Bet's interview and I was wondering whether you would like to see them to give you a better picture of the outfit or whether I should be quiet and start writing another chapter for you chipmunks
"haha" you're all thinking "she's never gonna write another chapter this side of April."
u right
probably
This is BAD publicity A stop now
stop writing now okay bye
Review for me?
I will release a baby mole in to the wild if you review
and baby moles are cute
okay really bye now