Chapter Fourteen, Coaching Session
When Effie arrived in the living room, her heart jumped in her chest. She had not expected to see a sleepy tribute on the couch; not when the beds in the rooms were so comfortable.
She walked towards him and gently shook his shoulder. Though her touch had been gentle, her voice was as bright and clear as ever. "Artemis, it's time to wake up, we have a big, big, big day!"
The boy's eyes shot open. He gasped in surprise, almost falling down from the sofa. "Effie…"
"What were you doing here?"
"Obviously, I was sleeping."
That would be a reasonable answer, thought Effie. "Well, let me tell you, you look like a boy who just slept on the couch," she said, being half-sincere and half-joking. "You better start getting ready for the day!"
Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Yes… I imagine I do," he said, sitting up. "I will hurry…"
"At least you were easier to wake up than Silyah. I almost thought that she was in a coma when I got into her room."
Artemis's facial expression froze. "Oh, I guess that she was just sleeping very deeply," he replied in a tone betraying an ounce of guilt. "I will see you at breakfast," he then added.
Effie smiled, nodded and waved him away.
Silyah walked in the dining room, her head still slightly fuzzy from whatever Artemis had put in her hot chocolate. Wondering if she should take her revenge on the boy, she sighed and headed towards a tall glass of orange juice.
When Artemis came in, his fellow tribute turned an accusatory eye on him, though her vision was still partially foggy. Silyah paced towards him and with her index finger, she pushed him firmly but not too harshly against the wall. "What. Did. You. Put In my drink?" she asked before backing off, looking paler than usual. Now standing close to Artemis, she noticed some faint dark circles under his eyes. He probably had not slept too well because of her atrocious scream.
The dark-haired boy blinked. "I would be deeply offended by this lack of trust," he said slowly, "However, breakfast has just arrived," he forced some eloquence in his speech in an attempt to hide how tired he was.
Silyah shook her head, clearing away some wandering clouds. A small voice at the back of her mind, the one that was not affected by the anesthetic told her that Artemis had done whatever he had done for her own good, but the other part was still wondering what had been going on through the boy's mind.
They both sat at the table, every now and then eyeing each other suspiciously before Silyah asked her question again. "You did put something in my drink earlier, right?"
Artemis's mismatching eyes seemed to avoid her… Why did he all of a sudden feel a slight touch of guilt? "You needed to sleep unaffected by dreams…"
"Well, at least that was true…" she said softly. "Thanks… I guess…"
"No need to thank me," sighed Artemis.
"Oh, dear! Look at you two!" Effie stepped in the kitchen, as fresh as an electric blue rose. She looked at the clock and rolled her eyes. These tributes seemed civilized enough for minimal coaching only… "Get something in your stomachs and go get some beauty rest. I will let you both take a three-hour nap; you need it. I will come to wake you up at nine."
Therefore, the tributes did as they were told; they took a quick breakfast and thanked their escort.
Three hours of real and good Capitol-worthy sleep would be just enough to satisfy their bodies.
Exactly three hours later, Effie "the alarm clock" Trinket knocked on Silyah's door. The effects of the stuff Artemis had put in her drink had now worn off; she felt brand new.
Effie gave the girl a long and silky dress along with a pair of shoes for her to practice her walk and posture before the interview. She put on the dress and with a sigh, saw that the shoes her escort had chosen were the nine-inch high, heel-less ones.
Before Effie had the time to wake Artemis up, Beetee had asked her to review their coaching plan. She therefore delegated the task to Silyah, who was cursing the person who had invented her toe-squeezing shoes.
Surprisingly steadily, she walked to the door of Artemis's room, making a point of clapping her shoes on the floor, just like Effie did. "Are you ready for your big, big, big day?" she sang in a cheerful Trinket voice. There came no reply from the boy. "Artemis? Effie told me that it was time for you to wake up." Behind the door, everything was still silent. Silyah slowly opened it, peeking inside of the luxurious room. "Come on, sleepy Arty," she smiled at her rhyme and sat on the edge of the boy's bed, placing a hand on his slim shoulder.
Artemis's raven hair had fallen in front of his face. He almost looked too pale, but somehow peaceful… It would almost be a shame to wake him up to the nightmare that was reality.
Silyah then wondered if she would ever see him like this in the arena; peaceful and exhausted as his pulse would weaken slowly… And she did not exactly feel good about something as such happening anytime soon.
The boy then moved, opening his eyes. Clearly, he had not expected to see Silyah sitting at his side, but decided to hide his surprise under a quick comment. "Do you always watch younger boys sleep?"
"Good morning, handsome," laughed the girl with her fake Capitol accent. "And, you tell me, do you always reply with a witty comeback when someone wakes you up?"
Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Mind if I do?"
Silyah faked a frown. "Maybe. And by the way, you are not that much younger than I, don't make my fifteen years feel like fifty."
The teen chuckled faintly. Artemis sat up; now realizing how stunning the girl was in her dress.
Feeling his gaze on her outfit, Silyah lifted the bottom of her gown, revealing the deadly looking shoes she wore. "Look at what Effie strapped me into," she rolled her eyes, still smiling.
"It's at times like these that I am glad not to be a female," whispered Artemis, thinking of the horror that could happen if "left-foot Fowl" would ever have to wear such footgear.
"I don't think it would suit you," laughed Silyah.
"Would you be insinuating that I am ugly?" Artemis raised his eyebrow once again.
"No, I'm just saying that I prefer you as the boy you are."
"Oh," Artemis turned away. He felt a most unfamiliar warmth spreading over his cheeks.
"I'll let you get ready…" Silyah got up from the bed, carefully maneuvering her heel-less shoes to the door.
"Most kind of you."
The girl curtsied and closed the door behind her.
Some time later, both of the District 3 tributes, as well as Effie were in the living room.
She had taught the two teenagers how to walk up to the stage, how to smile, how to sit, how to get back up and finally, how to bring the light on their facial features. In the end, most of the morning had been spent getting up and sitting back down, waving, smiling and pronouncing every syllable of Effie's diction exercises.
"Silyah, you have such pretty eyes, make sure to make eye contact with at least every person in the audience at least once! And Artemis, your posture is impeccable; it makes you look so influential!" she almost felt the urge to clap. "The way you both present yourselves seem very promising!"
Artemis smirked. That part of the Hunger Games was one of the few that was not terribly bad to go through.
"Are you done Effie?" Beetee called from the entrance of the room. The woman nodded with a bright smile.
Beetee adjusted his glasses over his eyes and looked at his ever-present notebook. "This evening, as you know, will be the last time you will have to dazzle the rich Capitol sponsors… You will need to play with the most important parts of your personalities and forget about the rest. We want a whole nation to have the same opinion about you," he pause and turned the page of his book. "Silyah, after having observed you, I took note that you are very logical, composed and kind. This means that you must answer Caesar's questions in a friendly and calm tone, but that you must hint the viewers that you have some strategies at the back of your mind." Beetee turned the page once again. "Artemis, you are really clever, I'd even say cunning at times and you have a chilly sense of humor, as we discussed in the train…"
Artemis raised an eyebrow at their mentor, giving him a rather devious grin.
"Yes, that thing," said Beetee, slightly disturbed by the boy's iconic smile. "For your interview, try to stay very neutral and thoughtful. Add a touch of irony to ease the mood at times and you will be all set."
"And if all else fails, just give them brilliant and victorious smiles and look pretty!" added Effie.
"As long as you don't freeze the audience with that smirk of yours, Ice Prince, you're going to be fine," Silyah told the boy, with a grin of her own.
The boy's eyes moved to her. "How amusing, Ms. Natho."
Beetee watched the two exchange their usual witty comments and gave them further details on the interviews.
Before going to get dinner, the mentor managed to intercept Artemis, making sure that Silyah and Effie were in the kitchen. "Be careful, Artemis. I have a feeling that you and Silyah got rather close this week… And that is not so good for anyone's mental health during the Games…"
"I am aware of this fact… I can assure you that this friendship will not make any difference of our view of each other in the Games," replied the boy.
Beetee nodded. "Let's go eat."
After dinner, Ilranor and her prep team got hold of Artemis, while Xarone did the same with Silyah. The stylist had brought their respective tributes in their rooms and had worked once again on exfoliating their pale skins.
A boy with electric yellow hair, Izolt, took care of Artemis`s complexion and makeup while the other man, who was sporting a sparkling silver bow tie and whose name was Throika worked on Artemis`s hair; he seemed to be installing some sort of device in it…
Artemis resisted against the urge to roll his eyes as Izolt traced a line of eyeliner on his lower lash line.
Meanwhile, the only woman in Artemis`s prep team worked on the boy`s nail, giving him a simple manicure. "You are handling this situation very well," she told Artemis. "Last year's tributes nearly tried to kill us when we got him ready," she laughed, mostly to hide the fact that she had been thinking about how easy to would be to beautify Artemis for his funerals if he never made it out of the Games.
Ilranor came in during late afternoon, carrying Artemis's interview suit.
"Very handsome!" The stylist congratulated her prep team. "You made an excellent job, as always," she walked towards Artemis, her brilliant smile stretching upon her golden lips. "Let me show you what I have in plan for today," she said, giving Artemis her drawing pad. "I worked around the concept of the evolution of technology; from steam engines to electrical wires and optical fibers."
Artemis's knowledge in fashion in from his own time was limited to popular designers and to the type of Armani suit that flattered him the most, but as far as he could tell, Ilranor was a true artist and perhaps an engineer considering the technological aspect of her work. Her drawing represented a mix of ancient and modern times; a dark dress jacket layered over a vest and a black shirt with a slight Victorian edge. The pants looked like simple well-fitted trousers, but of course, the stylist had made sure they would not be any "everyday" pants.
"Once again, I made some electrical embellishments in the fabric," she said while showing him the actual outfit.
Artemis nodded his approval. "I like it, as always."
Ilranor pressed on a chromed gear train-shaped broach on the jacket's right collar flap and the outfit lit up. From under the collar and on the vest, modern-looking electronic paths began to glow in the official colors of this year's District 3 tributes; blue, purple and white. Chrome gears were adorning the sleeves, serving the purpose of cuff links.
Artemis was by all means amazed, even a bit inspired by the presence of technological components directly installed into the fabric of the suit.
The golden stylist helped her tribute change into the outfit, which had a modern, yet classical cut. Artemis then noticed that glowing electronic paths also embellished the bottom of his pants. She was about to turn the boy towards a full-length mirror, but stopped, remembering something. She searched through Artemis's drawer and found his golden coin. She placed it around his neck like a medal. "It fits extremely well with the style of his outfit. It looks like the heart of the machine," she pointed out as she brought him to the mirror.
Artemis's lips formed a faint smile. "Yes, it does." The heart of the machine indeed; it was the spark of decency hidden underneath the cold boy's heart and it seemed to grow as the years passed…
The young man then took a look at the person in the mirror. Clearly, the prep team had installed something in his hair, for every fifth second of so, a line of light bearing different pale shades went through his raven-black, smoothed back hair.
"Ready to go?" asked Ilranor.
"Yes," Artemis adjusted his golden coin over his chest and turn to his stylist. "I believe so."