SHOUT OUTS:
Special thanks also to Floracat, shieldmaiden19, QueenCobraWing, and The Ice Within for reviewing the previous chapter!
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DISCLAIMER:
There are several concepts, characters, and real life things that I use and/or mention in this chapter that I don't own. These include but are not limited to the Hunger Games, Finnick Odair, Keynote, Microsoft PowerPoint, Adobe Illustrator (Ai), and AXE.
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A/N: I'm back! I know, I know, it's been too long. It's here though, and I will do my best to get Chapter 5 before I leave for South Africa on the third of July. They are saying we will have internet there, but people who have been on these types of trips before say don't count on it, so I'm not. In other news, I've reached fifty thousand words with just the story, no footnotes, shout outs, disclaimers, authors notes, chapter warnings, etc. are included in that, that's just the story. This is a pretty big milestone for me, and I'm excited!
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IN THIS CHAPTER: Moderate adult language
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CHAPTER 4
December 3, Later
"I swear to f—ing God, if you don't get him responding Snow is going to kill you, and then I'm going to bring you back to life so I can kill you again!"[1]
My head. I don't know where I am, what I'm doing, or who's screaming, but it's giving me one h*ll of a headache.
Someone points a flashlight in my face and I squint.
"He's responding to the stimulus!" someone screams. A different someone than before.
"You better be effin' glad!" snaps the first someone.
I sit up, too quickly apparently, because an intense wave of nausea washes over me and I end up reaching for the trashcan next to…the thing I'm lying on. I puke up everything in my stomach and then try to figure out where I am.
"I thought you said you took care of that? That there wouldn't be any post-anesthesia effects? We don't have time for that!"
"Whoever's screaming can you please shut up?" I ask. My mouth feels a bit numb, slurring my words some, but it's still discernible. I think.
From the sea of lab techs surrounding me emerges a girl with pale skin, dark black hair that travels half way down her back, red—Jayde. A familiar face is good, but what the h*ll is going on?
"Jayde."
"Yeah. You need to chill. They put you under general anesthesia to remove the wiring on your teeth. You're gonna be super confused, super nauseous, and generally sluggish for probably a couple hours."
Teeth. Right. I run my tongue over them and find that indeed the wires are gone.
One of the lab techs steps a bit closer. "Even though we only used a topical anesthetic in your mouth because we had you completely sedated, you should still be careful, because you'll be a bit numb for an hour or two. Don't eat for the next…let's say two hours, or as long as you can wait, whichever comes first. You should also take it easy, because this is your first time under consumer grade anesthesia we don't really know what the long-term effects will be, but we can't really afford to keep you inpatient."
"Consumer grade?"
"After your Games they used something when they did your polish, but that was high-tech government stuff with a completely different effect on the brain, so we don't count that. Plus, they kept you sedated with tranquilizing drugs until long after your initial recovery time."
"Uh…okay."
"So try not to eat for two hours, take it easy, and call if you need anything."
"Got it," I reply, although I don't get it at all.
I follow Jayde as she checks me out and we end up in another limo.
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I trail behind Jayde as we enter the studio. She heads into the drawing room and pulls out a laptop from one of the desks.
"Jayde, why the h*ll am I here?" I ask tiredly.
"I told you, modeling. You kind of have the body for it."
I ignore the "kind of". "'Modeling, plus some other stuff, you'll see.' I want to see. Now. What the fu—"
"Would you give me a second, Finnick? God."
I lean back against the wall as her computer finally starts up and she opens Keynote, choosing a file called "Finnick Modeling Project Proposal".
"You have a PowerPoint?"
"Keynote[2]. Better than PowerPoint. But yes, I have a presentation for you."
I give her the look as she puts her Keynote into slideshow form.
STORM.
"So…it's called Storm. As far as your involvement, it will be a combination of modeling, fashion design, and marketing management."
What?
I am not a fashion designer by any means, and although I know that marketing deals with the promotion of products, the phrase "marketing management" admittedly doesn't mean much to me.
"Say something, Finnick."
"Uhh…okay?"
She sighs and advances to the next slide. "Objective. You're marketing your own cologne line. You'll choose the scent, and be in charge of most aspects of it's marketing, including designing what your two representative models are wearing. You will be one of those models, and the other will be a female you'll choose from our catalogue."
What?
"I know nothing about fashion design or marketing. Especially in the Capitol."
"That's what Lallie and I are for. I've been doing fashion design for awhile now, and Lallie actually has some background in advertising design."
"Okay?"
"Today you need to chose a scent, logo, and female model. We're scheduled to do a photo shoot in District 4 on the sixteenth and the seventeenth of this month. Product goes on sale a week later."
"Umm, okay."
I'm still stuck on the whole "you're going to be marketing your own product" part.
"Crap, the test bottles are up in my room. Just come up there with me because the logos and models are on the desktop in there. I could always cloud it over, but the modeling software would take awhile."
"Fine."
We take the elevator up to nineteen and Jayde leads me to an cluttered office. She goes to the desk, where a large computer screen is sitting, and taps on the trackpad a few times, causing the screen to come to life. She enters her password, which must be at least sixteen characters long, and clicks on a little orange icon labeled "Ai".
"While Illustrator's loading let me run and get those test bottles."
She returns with six identical cologne bottles and strips of card stock labeled "A", "B", and "C". I watch as she carefully sprays the first one and hands it to me.
I smell it and immediately start coughing. I don't even know what it smells like, but it's really strong and really gross.
"Next."
She moves to a different corner of the room so the scents don't mix and gives me B.
It smells like home. Salty waves, the hint of ozone that comes before lightning, pounding rain, a storm. Like it's named. It has a slight, slight, slight undertone of leather that gives the otherwise neutral scent a masculine feeling.
"That's one's better. Smells like home. What's the third?"
She moves again and sprays the third. It smells good, but like the Capitol. A very synthetic woodsy smell with undertones of fruity mixed drinks. I think it's supposed to be sexy, but all I can think of is that guy at any party who is trying way too hard.
"It smells like that AXE stuff you made me wear to the Victor's Banquet. No."
"Yeah, it smells good."
"No, it smells like that guy who's going up to hot girls asking 'Want some sugar?' or something equally stupid."[3]
"Okay," she says, shaking her head. "The second one, B?"
"Yeah."
She picks up the other three. "This is the girls one. I'm running out of corners in this room." She walks out into the hall and gives me the first one.
It smells like flowers. It's nice and all, but has nothing to do with anything.
"It's too…pretty. You can't name something STORM and then have it smell like a beautiful spring day. That's gotta be false advertising or something."
She laughs. "What about this?"
It smells like freakin' nail polish remover. Or liquor. Or anything sharp and chemical. Disinfectants, rubbing alcohol…
"It smells like cleaning supplies. Why the h*ll would anyone wear that? Or even create it with the idea that someone would wear it? I question the taste of your people, Jayde."
"My people? I didn't make it, and I never said I like it."
"Okay, you have a point. Just the Capitol in general."
She shakes her head and moves onto the next one.
"This one better be good."
And it is. The same storminess with floral undertones instead of the leather. The storm is still dominant though.
"Perfect," I tell Jayde.
"Cool, B and C. I'll send that out so they can start mass producing them." She sits back at the computer and starts a new email. "Actually, before I send that I should get a logo too. Illustrator should be done by now."
The logos are fairly straight forward and I quickly choose a set, a base image, and then one for "Him" and one for "Her".
Jayde clicks on an icon of a heavily made up girl on her dock, and a software called "ModelBrowse" opens. She clicks through a couple of pages until I am staring at nine little thumbnails of what I assume are Capitol models. She double clicks on the first and a full profile opens with full body shots, head shots, profiles, and a whole bunch of information.
"You can click the filter button if there are any things you are absolutely not willing to compromise on, but we can change pretty much anything but skin color, just because that's expensive and time consuming." She stands up and lets me take the computer chair.
I start by putting the filter on for a natural skin tone. I don't need any blue models, thanks. The first model has purple eyes and lips, with blue makeup, eyebrows, and hair. Her hair reaches her stomach on the right side, and then is virtually nonexistent on the left. A long red halter dress accentuates drastic curves and she is in black flat sandals.
"That hair would be a pain wouldn't it?"
Jayde shrugs. "If you want it to be 'normal', then yes. The other side won't be able to grow fast enough for what we need, even with those inch a day growth supplements, so your best bet would be to shave it all off and get a wig. The model probably wouldn't be too thrilled about that though, so if you don't like it I probably wouldn't pick her."
"'Kay, no then."
"Click the 'Remove' button at the bottom."
I do, and the next model pops up. She actually has a semi normal face; curly blond hair, blue eyes, red lips…and then I get to what she's actually wearing. A translucent white nightgown with absolutely nothing under it shows everything, and then—
"Does she have a tail?"
"Eugh, that trend is pretty old. Maybe six months ago that was all the rage."
"She has a tail?"
"Yes. Surgically attached and most likely permanent."
"What the f—, no."
Remove.
The next model has a green face.
"I said natural skin tone."
"That's not skin tone, Finnick. The rest of her is natural. It's demi-permanent makeup, can't you see how it looks airbrushed?" she asks me, sounding slightly exasperated. Probably because of my lack of appreciation for the idiocy that is Capitol fashion.
"Demi-permanent? So it's not coming off anytime soon. Yeah, no."
Remove.
The next model actually has semi-decent taste, black hair that fades to a dark blue, blue eyes, and a little black dress, but she's ridiculously tall.
Height: 208 cm (6'10"), Natural 201 cm (6'7").
"Two hundred one centimeters is not natural. I know what they mean, she's 201 without the heels, but that's not natural."
"Yeah, even I think that's little much. She'd be a good nine inches taller than you in flats. Next."
Remove.
The next model is…not even attractive. Pasty pale skin with curly white hair, black eyes (yes, they are literally black), and red lips. She's wearing a red dress that is the polar opposite of flattering, and her shape…eugh.
"What the h*ll is she modeling for?"
"Uhh…I honestly don't know, I just put in specifications and used an internet search finder. Obviously that's a no."
Remove.
The computer now displays an error message about how there are no more profiles selected.
"I thought there were nine?"
"The filter knocked out four apparently. Well…umm…"
"Get me a model from Four."
Jayde spins to look at me. "What?"
"Get a model from Four. There are hundreds of pretty girls in District Four. Run some kind of contest through the Training Center and bring one out here. That way she's somewhat normal."
"Finnick, there's no way. First of all, there would be way too much red tape surrounding bringing a D4 kid into the Capitol. You're a victor, which is why you're here, but I can't just be pulling District Four people in here whenever I want. Secondly, running a contest like you're suggesting would be a logistics nightmare. You're the only one with any contacts with the Training Center or whatever, and you're a minor so you can't sign for anything. Basically it would be you playing middle man, which exponentially increases the risk for a communication error that could ruin this entire thing. And thirdly, we don't have time. This project has such a quick turnaround that we need someone in here ASAP, and having to run a contest and then ship them out here would take at least a week, and we don't have time for that, so no. I can call a couple of contacts to get a premium catalogue and you can pick someone out of there, or you can reconsider what's in here, up to you."
"Up to me? Then bring a model from Four. Almost everyone has tan skin and eyes somewhere between blue and green, so we'll match, and also bringing someone in would create a lot of publicity. Publicity raises awareness of the product. Awareness means more people buying it. It would be a good thing, and worth the 'logistics nightmare', which really wouldn't be that much of a nightmare at all. You'd have to send someone there, but other than that it'd be fine."
"Oh, and who the heck am I going to send to District Four to oversee finding your precious model?"
"I don't know, you, Lallie, someone else who works with you. All I'm saying is maybe you should get over your fear of having contact with 'the outside' because it would be a lot better for this project."
She bristles. Looks like I hit a nerve. "You know what, fine. Have it your way. I'm not doing sh*t though, so let me know when your model's here." She gets up and walks out the door
I roll my eyes and go next door to Lallie's apartment. I knock and she ushers me in. Her hair is down and she must use contacts instead of just dying her irises, because her eyes are a bright jade green.
"I was just getting ready, what's up, Finnick?"
I don't bother to ask why she's getting ready in the middle of the afternoon.
"I need help…"
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FOOTNOTES
I more or less stole this from the fifth Maximum Ride book, MAX…it's not exactly like that, but close enough that I felt like I should cite.
2. Shameless Apple promotion. I'm a big Keynote fan, PowerPoint for Mac annoys me greatly.
3. Did the irony come and smack you in the face? Good.
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A/N: Well, now you know why Finnick's in the Capitol. I'm sure it seems utterly pointless, but I promise it's not! You'll see.
Please review, I really appreciate the feedback!
-cindella204