SHOUT OUTS:
A big thank you to shieldmaiden19, The Fancy Unicorn, Floracat, QueenCobraWing, The Ice Within, LikeACheshireCat, patronumfire7, paigemariexo, and HeroInTraining for the reviews on the last chapter!
Also a BIG thank you to the lovely QueenCobraWing who noticed that the stats I gave you for Nikhila's height, weight, and age would give her a BMI considered by the US CDC as underweight O_O That was completely unintentional, I was not trying to make her underweight because she was a model or anything of the sort. I do address it in the chapter though.
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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 and Finnick Odair.
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A/N: I'm back in the US of A! It's good to be home. I got SO. MANY. REVIEWS. on the last chapter. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I didn't get to check my email much while I was in Africa, but when I would at breakfast or dinner there'd be so many review alerts! Ah, I love you all!
PTSD!Finnick and sexgod!Finnick on the way folks. Enjoy it.
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IN THIS CHAPTER: Moderate adult language and moderate sexual themes
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CHAPTER 8
December 8
Lallie's face pops up in FaceTime. She says something about the plan for today, but I'm too distracted by the purple stone on her necklace to know what it is.
Lallie loves purple, so that shouldn't be surprising. It has absolutely nothing to do with…
Korey. The train. Her story. The Games. The knife. The poison. Her giving it to me before she died…
Focus. You need to focus.
I try to tune back into what Lallie is saying.
"—I know that you wanted to take the blue and cyan color families, maybe some green too, the District Four colors, so we'll need to—"
Blue. Cyan. Green.
The handle on the knife. The rest of the beads on the necklace. The tree she died under.
D*mmit. This has happened before and even though I'm totally aware that it's happening it's incredibly hard to stop. Anything and everything becomes a trigger to have me reliving the Games.
Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. Every victor to ever live has had it, and every one to come probably will.
"Finnick?"
I shake my head and try to shove away the Games. Back to the little corner of my head where it'll stay until it decides to come haunt me again.
"Sorry, what?"
She starts to get frustrated, but something in my face stops her, and she softens.
I just lovebeing a victor.
Note my extreme sarcasm.
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December 9
We'll be there in thirty. I talked to Jayde, we're going to introduce her to the Capitol and maybe you can start designing stuff, but there's no real objective today. Make sure the penthouse is ready.
I'm surprised Jayde agreed to that, but it makes sense. They don't really care about what's best for tributes, they're throwing us into a televised fight to the death for God's sake, but just getting used to the insanity that is the Capitol deserves its own day.
And the penthouse, crap. One of Jayde's terms was that she had to stay with me, which I'm fine with since I have four bedrooms and three bathrooms. I know back home people always turn extra rooms into offices or hobby rooms, but I already have both of those.
The bedrooms are fine, but all the shared spaces are way more of a mess than they should be considering that I don't have much stuff to make a mess with. I've never had the luxury of stopping and putting things away the right way, and now that I do it's just too much work to change the habit. Even though we have an hour lunch break back home between school and training, it's a twenty minute walk from school to the house, twenty minutes from the house to the ferry, and I had to be at the ferry at 12:47. That left seven minutes to grab lunch, dump out my school stuff, pack for training, and get out the door again. Whether I had folded my school clothes (if I wasn't wearing the same thing to training) properly was never the biggest thing on my mind.
I hurriedly start throwing crap into drawers. I probably won't remember where I put anything, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
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30 Minutes Later
We're down in the studio.
They're here.
I grab my phone from the table and get into the elevator.
Oh God.
The elevator dings and the doors open.
Lallie walks into the foyer.
"Hey Finnick. I said no objective today, but it looks like we're going to need some basic sketches. I need to order some stuff based on what you want to do, and Jayde needs to start sewing, so…
"Yeah. We'll talk."
She nods. "We're in the Drawing Room."
I follow her over there. Jayde's at her desk with Nikhila and a laptop opened to a virtual makeover site. They both turn when I walk in, and Nikhila stands.
We shake hands.
"Hi. Nikhila Perez," she says, a bit breathlessly.
I'm still not used to the celebrity factor. Other than the PTSD I don't feel any different. I mean, we have way more money now, but I don't feel different. Everyone sees me differently though.
I guess they did promise fame and fortune once you won.
"Finnick Odair, nice to meet you."
She nods.
I step back and try to get a good look at her figure without seeming like a creeper. She has a very small frame; I knew that from her photo, but she doesn't look too skinny. I realized after the fact that her height, weight, and age would actually put her at slightly underweight according to the health standards. She doesn't it look it though, she's really slim, but she's not skinny like she's not eating enough.
Good.
"Hey Jayde, Lallie was talking about you needing to sew, so what should I design first?"
"Nikhila's stuff. Unless you have a certain signature item you want I'll probably buy all of your stuff. If you need a dress or a shirt for her though I'm going to need to start that ASAP."
Lallie walks over to the inspiration window. "Can you two come here for a second, I want to show you some stylistic stuff and then you can start designing whatever."
We both walk over to the window.
Here goes.
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December 10
"So…"
I took for granted that Korey and I already knew each other when we got reaped together. Then there was none of the awkward "we just met and I have no clue what to talk to you about" phase with her.
My pre-Games life was three things: school, training, and work.
She's two years ahead of me in school. I had that one class with Korey because her schedule was all jacked up to accommodate an independent study she was taking, but generally I wouldn't have classes with a sixteen year old. The class structure changed starting with my class, so I don't know how school is set up for her.
I have no clue what work means to her, if anything.
Well then, training.
"Were you a training center kid? I don't remember seeing you although I was in classes with most of the fifth years."
"Yeah, but I started late. Both my parents…well, they don't really agree with the idea of training kids to volunteer. They think it's morally wrong and taking advantage of kids, I don't know, this is just what they said. I took me two years to convince them to let me train; I told them that although I'd never volunteer the athletic skills we learn would be good for working on the boats later on in life and that learning self-defense could never hurt. Or if I somehow got reaped. After seeing the 63rd Games something about it convinced them to let me. Of course I had missed all the foundation classes and the first two years, so I have classes with all the fourteen year olds. It kind of sucks, but I'm glad to be training at all."
Finally. Something to actually talk about.
"Oh, okay. So are you in GW 301 right now?"
"Yeah, I just started it. My birthday's next week, so then I'll be seventeen in a class full of fourteen year olds, but you know how it goes, it's however old you are when the Games end regardless of how close you are."
I nod. "Mine was last week, so I've always been close. Supposedly in Two there cutoff is Christmas so that everyone's on a level-playing field for at least three months, not that age is all that contributes to a level playing field. Who's your teacher for 301?"
"Tomasik. Did you have him?"
"Oh God, yes, unfortunately. Korey and I pretty much stuck together and did what we wanted in that class."
I'm pleasantly surprised that I can say her name without my voice cracking by the end of the sentence.
Nikhila launches into a story about her last class before she came here, and having to tell him that she'd be gone for almost a month.
The ice is broken.
Thank God.
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December 11
"Finnick and Nikhila, can you come here for a second?" Lallie asks. "I'm in the photography studio."
We enter the room to find Lallie setting up a video camera.
"I don't remember if I told you guys this or not, but you're going to shoot a television ad here in the Capitol after the photoshoot. We're going to take video clips just of the beach and such and then film you separately on a green screen."
"Green screen?" Nikhila asks.
"Yeah. We literally hang a green curtain behind you when we film you and then tell the computer that anywhere that is green should be the video of the Four storm. Then we'll use CGI, computer-generated imagery, I think, to make it look real."
Oh. I guess that's cool, although when you think about what you could do with that…
You could fake video footage of anything.
"Anyway, the reason I brought you here is actually for an acting activity. I know that Nikhila and I talked about this on the hovercraft in, but both of you are playing characters for all the promotional stuff we do. Honestly, I think this will be harder for you, Finnick, just because your name is on it. Your character's name is Finnick Odair. He's fifteen, he has sea green eyes and bronze-y hair unless it's dyed darker, and he won the 65th Hunger Games, but he's not you, and the sooner you realize that the better."
I knew that from the start. It's funny how at first a victor seems like the idea person to promote a product, but on second thought they're the worst. Fame and universal appeal doesn't cover up brokenness and pure hatred for the Capitol lifestyle.
Or a heavy dose of psychological scarring.
I suppose someone thinks that it's worth it though because Jayde and Lallie are here doing this with me and someone's paying for it all.
"Anyway, characters. We want sexy, we've been over that, but in a different way then we've done before. Before it's been the effortless and unintentional, almost like you didn't even realize what you were doing. This time we want it to be a little more intentional, or not even intentional, just like you know what you're doing, and you like it."
"What?" Nikhila asks.
"Basically you're sexy and you know it. So I've been doing marketing development blah blah, and we've got like a slogan now, 'Unleash the STORM within.' So you're going to stand here in front of this camera with no makeup, no hairstyling, and no wardrobe and say it however you want, move however you want, to make it sexy."
Well.
"Who wants to go first?"
"I guess…I guess I will," Nikhila says.
Good. That gives me time to figure out what I'm going to do with this.
"Just give me a second." She closes her eyes and her teeth clench. When she opens her eyes again I can see the difference in her face. She saunters toward the white screen and runs a hand through her hair, smirking at the camera.
It's so similar to what I've been doing since this whole Games mess started that it's actually kind of unsettling to see someone else doing it.
She leans forward and whispers silkily, "Unleash the STORM within," before pushing the camera away from her and walks off.
Okay, that was hot.
Lallie stands in the corner, nodding appreciatively. "Not bad, that was great. Finn?"
Finn?
"Yeah, give me a second."
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on the task at hand.
Sexy and I know it. Make them want you. Sexy, sexy, sexy.
Go time.
I put Elesah's training on walking into good use.
"Unleash the STORM within."
I draw out the word "storm" and accompany it with a suggestive facial expression. It's scarily natural; I don't really need to think about what I'm doing, I just automatically…do it.
I add a wink at the end for good measure and leave the camera before turning to Nikhila and Lallie.
Lallie is absolutely speechless, and Nikhila just says "God."
Not sure if that's good or bad.
Lallie finally speaks. "Holy f—."
"What?" I ask.
She shakes her head and quickly pulls up the video we just recorded on the computer.
Lallie's was definitely right about me playing a character, because it's not myself I see on the screen in front of me.
Firstly, "my" eyes are about five shades darker than I've ever seen them. I had absolutely no intention of doing that, didn't even know I could on command like that, and it's scary.
"Unleash the STORM within." I knew that I had drawn out "storm", but hearing it back is something else that I can't really explain. The way Lallie's eyes widen as she watches it again suggest that it was good though.
And a salacious wink to finish it off.
Definitely not me.
"Do you think you could do that for an extended period of time?" Lallie asks.
"Do what?"
"Your eyes. I was actually planning to order you a bottle of contact drops just for that, but if you can do it naturally then I won't need to."
"I have no clue, I wasn't even trying to do that. I thought 'sexy and I know it' and what happened happened.
She raises an eyebrow. "You are not normal, Finnick."
"You're just figuring that out? Especially since you met me after my Games you'd think that was pre-established."
She shrugs. "Second activity. Finnick I know that you can do this, and from what I've heard about District Four I'm sure you can to Nikhila, but I want to get the awkwardness out of it now."
"And that is?"
"Kissing. Making out. Hot make out session. Etc."
Nikhila starts blushing like crazy, and I bite my lip to keep from pulling a face. I'm not particularly surprised by her request, but when you say it like that…
"I know you two probably don't have as much…experience as a Capitol kid your age would, so you may not be as good at it—"
"Challenge?" I mutter under my breath, and the look on Nikhila's face tells me she's thinking the same thing.
"But try?" Lallie finishes.
"Fine," Nikhila says firmly. She's motivated by people doubting her like I am.
We cross in front of the camera and wait for Lallie's signal. She gives it and our lips meet.
She knows what she's doing.
Knows that you don't just start with an open-mouthed kiss, but you work your way up there.
Knows that she should keep her hands moving.
Knows how to work her tongue in my mouth to the point where I almost feel like I'm on fire.
What Lallie may or may not have realized is that she's going to be here for a long time. In District Four we're all swimmers and we all love to prove people wrong.
Between the two of those combined Nikhila and I will be able to hold our breath for quite awhile.
Nikhila drops her hands from my hair and her thumbs hook in my belt loops. A shiver runs up my spine and I cover it by shifting my focus to her neck, littering it tiny kisses with just enough suction to keep things interesting. When I pull away she gives me a meaningful look, and I know exactly what she's getting at.
She's drawing the line here, and honestly I'm glad because this is getting closer to my own boundary lines then I'd like.
After about a minute more of that we pull apart, slightly breathless but feeling rather accomplished.
"We probably could have kept doing that for about five or so more minutes, but we were getting bored and we thought you might be too," I say with an air of conceit.
Lallie nods. "Okay. That was great. I'm impressed. Seriously."
I smile at Nikhila, and she returns it.
"Alright, go do whatever you need to get ready for Jayde. Thanks."
We both nod and exit the room.
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December 12
"Is this final?" Jayde holds my latest sketch of Nikhila's dress. This is the fourth one.
"Yes."
"Are you sure? At this point once I start sewing it is what it is, because we leave in four days."
"Positive. This is it."
"Good."
The dress is made of lacy translucent fabric and has a gradient that goes from a slightly purple tinted red to black, with black accents at the top.
"Have you gotten shoes and jewelry yet?"
"Nope."
She shakes her head. "I'd bring that up with Lallie and Nikhila, because Lallie or I has to order them before we leave. Probably Lallie because I have to sew Nikhila's dress and maybe your shorts for the television shoot too."
"Got it. Are they still back in the cosmetology studio?"
"I have no idea, sorry, Finnick."
"You're good," I say as I walk over there.
Nikhila is sitting front of the mirror with Lallie in front of her applying eyeliner.
"Hey Finnick," she says without turning around.
"Hey. I've been ordered by Jayde to discuss shoes and jewelry with you two."
"For me or both of us?" Nikhila asks.
"Both of us, I guess."
Lallie nods, "Both of you. I was going to ask today so that I can put in the final orders. If I don't get it done today, I'll have to pay rush shipping."
"Okay, hopefully you two have ideas, because honestly, shoes and jewelry…yeah, not my forte."
"Well, I was thinking maybe a strappy sandal with a wedge heel for me? I don't know if that would technically go with the dress or whatever, but I like wedges, and…I don't know."
Lallie shakes her head. "No, that's great. I would have thought a wedged sandal too. Any opinion on materials? Leather, patent leather, plastic, cloth, snakeskin…"
"What's patent leather?"
"Leather with a shiny varnish on top."
"That might be good. Or snakeskin, that's shiny too, and the added texture might be interesting, I don't know. Finnick?"
I raise an eyebrow. "You're asking me? No clue, talk to Jayde."
Nikhila mutters something like "no help" under her breath before turning back to Jayde.
Well.
The entire conversation goes the same way, Lallie and Nikhila exchange ideas, they come to me for decisions, I don't have an answer, and then they go back to their conversation.
It could be worse.
It could be much, much worse.
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A/N: I'm home now, so I'll have much more reliable internet access, but I have a lot of summer school work to catch up on so you won't necessarily get faster updates. I wrote 1,156 words of this today (or was it yesterday, it was probably yesterday in the States) on the plane. You should be proud of me ;)
Would you mind reviewing, I really like the feedback!
-cindella204
