Chapter 6: Stitch a Lie

The quiet whirring of the sewing machine filled the large studio design room. It was the only sound heard in the room beside the quiet melodic hums of a girl controlling the sewing machine. She had her eyes on the delicate and expensive fabric being fed to the machine and was patiently waiting to finish stitching the last seam of the dress before she pulled it free from the machine.

Her speckled gray eyes examined the gown carefully with her tongue sticking out a little from her painted mauve lips. Her hair curtained the gown as she leaned over it with a magnifying glass, checking for any defects. The burnt copper of her hair clashed with the delicate lilac fabric but she paid it no mind, her focus elsewhere.

She held the beautiful pastel lilac gown up to the luminescent light of the studio and carefully inspected each and every seam, turning it over as she did so. The beaded waves at the bodice gleamed brightly under the lights and the girl smiled at her handiwork.

"Not bad." A tired feminine voice answered. "Is that for the spring collection?"

At the threshold of the studio, almost hidden behind a few dressed and naked mannequins and rolls of silks, satins and sequins, a figure could be vaguely seen.

"Leta." The seamstress greeted her friend. She stood up and carefully left her finished piece on the table where she was working, being careful not to ruin the new work. "How–what are you doing here?"

Leta with her pinkish-blonde hair that looked like cherry clouds and cat-like jade green eyes with painted coral lips that grinned at her friend. She almost looked like a princess from the fairy tales most Capitol children read about.

"Your godfather let me in and I bought food." Leta said, holding up a package. She seemed a little excited despite her friend not bothering to show up to her plans. "You forgot didn't you, Tia?"

Ah.

The tea party.

Leta had repeatedly told her about it. Reminded her between classes and even when they were walking home. She looked up at her friend with an apologetic look and gave a nervous laugh. "I'm so so sorry. I swear it wasn't on purpose."

"I know. I know. Spring is pretty busy at the Sarto house." Leta said with a sigh. She looked at her apologetic friend and held out the package for her. A paper carrier box with a sleeve white and pink swirls that she had picked up from the bakery that supplied the desserts for her little tea party she held for her friends.

She understood that spring for most was the changing of seasons but for the goddaughter and heir of the famed designer and former stylist Cygnus Sarto, it was different. It was a time, everyone in the household was busy preparing for the new collection.

Even though Hestia wasn't technically a Sarto and Cygnus didn't really have children, Hestia and her brother were like the grandchildren the old designer never had. As such, she was treated like one and touted as his heir.

To everyone's knowledge, that was seen as controversial. Hestia Armistice was someone without a known family name, borrowing her godfather's name to take the Capitol by storm overnight as the next big thing. Leta was proud to have been friends with Hestia before her sudden rise to prominence but times like this, Hestia wished she could make more time for her.

"I swear I'll make it up to you Leta." And she meant it. Even though she didn't think much of her current friends. Leta was one of the few she cared about. She was sweet and attentive and knew when to keep her mouth shut on certain matters. She even helped Hestia get used to the Academy.

"I don't know Hestia, it's gonna be pretty hard this time." Hestia's face paled but Leta started to laugh. "I'm kidding." Hestia lightly punched her friend and took the package from her hand, unboxing it to reveal a few colorful pastries. "You know what you could do?"

"Make yours, Maia and Juno's prom gowns?" Hestia offered with a soft smile. She reached for a small colored pastry and thought that her brother would like some of the pastries. "I've already got the sketches down. I just need the color palette."

Hestia shoved the small pastry into her mouth and got up to show Leta to the design board she had put up on the other side of the studio. Leta followed her, being careful not to bump any mannequins or machines or step on any loose fabric or leather laying around. Her pale gold heeled shoes clicked softly against the lacquered patterned ash floors of the studio before she came to a stop at Hestia's desk.

An elevated white metal desk with a lamp and sketchbook on top. That was Hestia's desk. It was much more organized than her godfather's desk at his personal office or her brother's desk at his studio or lab as he liked to call it.

Above her desk was a wide and tall black cork board with swatches of fabric pinned onto it along with sketches, some colored and some uncolored. There were some scribbled notes on each of the sketches and Leta was in awe of each sketch.

"Hey, isn't that from last year's winter collection your godfather put out?" Leta pointed to a sketch of a short dress with fur lined skirt and icy-sequin bodice and skirt.

Hestia craned her neck to see where her friend pointed and nodded when she did find it. "I designed a few pieces and some of the shoes. I made the first five copies of the snow ice dress." She looked back fondly at the memory, it was the first time Cygnus had trusted her with such a difficult task and she was proud to be able to do it well.

"Oh my! It seems my best friend is a professional fashion designer already. I feel so privileged to be graced by her presence." Leta joked and Hestia flicked her forehead. "Aw. That hurt."

"Well maybe, don't be so annoying."

"I was being nice!"

"You were being annoying." Hestia giggled before she pointed to a small corner of the large cork board. "Here. These are a few of the designs I have for you, Maia and Juno. I even made some extra from Larissa."

Leta chuckled. "You mean Narcissa."

"Right." Hestia clicked her fingers awkwardly. Somehow, the Academy gossip's name always slipped right out of her mind even though Hestia sometimes spent more time with her than any of her other friends. "Her. I keep getting her name wrong."

"Just don't let her hear you say that or she'll be mad." Narcissa was a prideful and sensitive girl even though she was the Academy gossip and had no trouble talking about everyone else. She'd cry at the slightest ill mention of herself.

"I have yet to make a mistake."

Leta nodded. "Famous last words." She mused and leaned forward to get a good look at the sketches. She could easily tell which ones Hestia designed for her with the notes scribbled on the side. Even though Hestia hadn't picked the color palette, she already knew what type of fabric that she wanted to use for each dress and what the fabric would look like. "Watercolors?"

"I was thinking of an illustrated ink-watercolor cherry blossom or a landscape of the setting sun with ink on the skirt for your dresses—is that too much?"

"No, it's perfect. I guess Maia gets the off-the-shoulder gown with the straight skirt with a slit."

Hestia nodded. With her friend Maia, it was a bit hard to design, she was a pianist, something Hestia didn't know many people played until she met Maia. "I designed it based on her hair. She told me she wanted to keep her braids in till our Academy graduation so I kept that in mind and for Juno, she said, she wanted something very-floral."

"I think she was feeling inspired by a certain victor." Leta commented. "You know this is all great and all but I was thinking—"

"No." Hestia didn't even let her friend finish. She looked around nervously and repeated her rejection. "No. I'm not getting involved." She pulled at the sleeve of her baby blue coat dress with loose chiffon sleeves.

Though she considered Leta and the other girls a good friend, she wasn't completely selfless enough to do everything Leta wanted off her. No. Hestia wasn't selfless at all. Maybe her old self was selfless but the current her wasn't and she never pretended she was.

Unfortunately for Hestia, Leta was the selfless type. The type that made Hestia mourn for her old self. The type that was too righteous for her own good. Her recent—well—it wasn't really recent, it had been over a year or two since Leta had reconnected with an old student of her mother's and Leta had a soft spot for her late mother.

"Please. It's for a good cause." Leta pleaded, puffing up her cheeks and making her eyes rounder than usual. She looked like a lost kitten who really wanted a passer-by to pay them some attention. "And with your past experience you might be a big help to us."

Hestia stilled. Her speckled gray eyes darkened and her jaws tightened. "My past experience." She echoed.

Leta bit her tongue at her mistake but it was too late to apologize. Hestia had trusted her once with her origins and she knew her friend never expected her to use it against her.

"Is he even worth all of this?" Hestia asked, slumping down onto a chair nearby. She was tired of Leta's constant groveling and pleading even though Hestia and sometimes her brother had made it clear that they wanted no trouble and wanted peace. "You know Dante and I just want to be left alone. We've had a rough life before our godfather took us in."

"I know that but you're not the only ones with a rough life. The entire Panem is suffering and we need to do something about it."

In response to Leta, a cold boyish laugh was heard. "You know it's funny how you think this is our problem." The boy at the door joked.

"Ro–Dante." His older sister hissed at him. The sudden mistake of Hestia's wasn't lost to Leta who quickly picked on it. Her cat-like eyes darted from brother to sister and narrowed. The two siblings were not all as they seemed. "Ignore him, Leta. You know how he is."

Leta slowly nodded. "Well, he is smart and I'm sure he didn't mean it." She tried to justify.

Hestia rolled her eyes and went up to hit her brother on his head. "Stop being so rude, Dante!" She hissed out and Dante glared at his sister.

"By the way, I did mean it." Dante doubled down on his words, refusing to apologize. Leta weakly nodded. She looked sad at the prospect of another rejection. "And besides, this guy—your mother's former student—"

"Cinna." Leta corrected. "His name is Cinna and he is a good person."

"Because he wants to change the world." Dante said in a mocking voice. Hestia turned her head and wordlessly warned him with a single look. He sighed and ruffled his short burnt copper hair in annoyance. "Whatever. You can't change a thing. It's all the same, no matter how hard you try."

"That's not true." Leta cried out. "I'm sure you two know it better than me but if we work together than—"

"We'll defeat the big bad guys with the power of friendship." Dante mocked.

"Enough!" Hestia shouted. She was getting tired of her brother and her friend's antics. It was almost everyday. "Leta, go home for the day—"

She never got to finish as one of the maids of her godfather rushed into her studio. "A Cinna is here to see you and Master Dante." The shy maid with coral and black hair said, avoiding eye contact with Dante.

Hestia let out a deep audible sigh and looked at her friend. Leta was looking awaywhere but at Hestia. "Show him to my studio and let our godfather know that we have a visitor."

The studio felt much colder despite it being early spring and the hottest day of that year so far. Hestia didn't say another word, she was a little mad at her friend and her brother. Both of them had managed to get on her nerves without even trying.

She turned her back to Dante and Leta, instead going back to the almost forgotten gown she had finished making earlier. Her brother kept his eyes on her while she worked to put away the gown, displaying it on one of the many empty mannequins in the studio. He debated whether or not he should help but a look from his older sister made him stop and stay where he was.

Instead, Dante helped himself to the treats Leta had brought his sister. Leta shot Danta a dirty look but the younger boy shrugged it off whilst stuffing his face with rose-flavored pastry. "So why is Sena—"

"Cinna." Leta corrected impatiently. "His name is Cinna."

Hestia let out an annoyed breath and looked up at the two. "Please don't start."

Leta pointed at Dante who innocently looked away. "Anyways, Cinna." Dante began, already bored of the conversation. He was smart enough to know that Cinna didn't seem like the best of people. After all, Hestia had told him that he reached out to Leta years after her parents had passed. He wasn't even at the funeral. "What's his deal? Why is he passionate about—you know—this whole…change Panem?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Nothing." Dante said but he didn't believe that. He believed that something was wrong with Cinna. His sister didn't really care and hated mysteries and preferred to spend time on her designs or helping their godfather but not Dante. No. Dante loved a good puzzle. He wanted to break and fix things. "It's just a little suspicious. What if…he's an undercover Elite Guard?"

Leta paled. "W-w-what? Of course he's not. He's a stylist."

"For the games." Hestia mused. Though she'd prefer not to get involved with anyone outside of the bubble she had created, she still couldn't help commenting. "You know the Hunger Games—the death game created by the so-called government you and this Cinna is trying to…" She trailed off, choosing not to finish her sentence. It wasn't like Leta wouldn't understand her.

What she said was clear.

"Well if you want to break the system, you have to break it from the inside." A new voice answered before Leta could. He sounded calm, almost too calm. "Sorry I didn't wait for…the maid to let me in. I found my own way here."

Dante stood up from his seat and eyed the newcomer who did the same. "You must be…Cinna." Dante guessed, looking over his shoulder to check on his sister.

She wasn't deaf. Hestia did hear the newcomer answer her, she was busy fixing her creation on a mannequin. "Dante, don't be rude." Hestia quietly warned her brother across the room without turning back.

Her brother only groaned in response. "Dante. I'm Dante Armistice and that over there, busy with the mannequin is my dear older sister, Hestia."

At first, Cinna said nothing. He only hummed quietly under his breath in response. "Armistice? Not Sarto?" He questioned.

Audibly, Hestia sighed. She was so tired of that question. Wherever the two siblings went, people always asked that same damn question. She turned around to face Cinna, examining and sizing him up.

He seemed harmless at first glance.

Dark hair and unmodified dark skin with a simple silver eyeliner laid upon his lids, he seemed normal. Too normal. He looked odd compared to Leta with her pink-blonde hair and jade eyes or the Armistice siblings with their burnt copper hair and speckled gray eyes. Even the way he was dressed set him apart from everyone in the room.

It was simple.

Once again, he stood out like a sore thumb with his simple leather black outfit compared to Leta's candy-like dress or Hestia's baby blue dress or Dante's leather dark green short coat and black pants. Cinna looked too normal to be from the Capitol.

Hestia couldn't help but turn to her brother. The two shared a suspicious look and turned back to Cinna. If it wasn't for Cinna's thick Capitol accent, the two might actually think he was from the Districts.

"We're Cygnus godchildren, not his grandchildren." Hestia corrected, sounding frostier than she'd like. She didn't bother to go and apologize and carried on. "I'm Hestia, you must be Cinna, the one Leta won't stop talking about."

It wasn't her intention to put her friend in the corner but Leta had gotten on her nerve by constantly asking her to change her mind.

Cinna laughed nervously. "Ah. Well, I owed a lot to the Jadewells. Leta's mother was my…mentor and teacher at the University. It's a shame what happened to her and her husband. I wanted to…give back what they gave me and more to Leta."

"You graduated a few years back, didn't you?" Dante questioned, ignoring his sister's looks.

Cinna nodded. "Seven to eight years ago to be exact. I've been an apprentice to a former stylist from the earlier games."

"So I've heard from Cygnus." Hestia wanted to end the conversation and get back to her work. Unfortunately, Cinna didn't want it to end. "...I heard from Leta that you wanted to meet me and my brother."

Awkwardly Cinna glanced at Leta who once again pretended like she wasn't there. "I did." He answered, fidgeting with his many rings on his finger. "I…I've been officially chosen as the new District 12 stylist."

Hestia nodded, her eyes a little unfocused as if she wasn't there for a second. "And this concerns us because…" She said in a trance-like state.

For a moment she wasn't really there in the studio, her eyes went to the single wide window overlooking the Sarto garden where an orange tree branch leaned over the window. Her gaze was fixed on the orange tree in an almost melancholic look.

Cinna stood there awkwardly wondering if he should disturb her or not. With a tired sigh, Dante tapped his sister's shoulder, pulling her back to the present and away from her daydreams.

"Sorry." Hestia apologized quietly but it didn't seem like she was saying it to Cinna or at least that's how the quiet and observant man saw it as. "What were you saying?"

"I need your help and maybe…Dante's too."

"Our help?"

Cinna nodded and stood in front of the mannequin that Hestia had just dressed. "As I mentioned, I'm going to be the stylist for the next games and to give my…tribute the best Hunger Games…" Dante let out a bitter laugh, interrupting him. "I want to give them a good experience and give them a better fighting chance."

"By making them—what pretty?" Hestia questioned. Cinna seemed to have a noble idea, she was skeptical if it would actually work and she didn't think it would. "Look…I'm not trying to be mean or rude but Twelve is one of those districts that no matter what you do, their tribute will die in the arena. They have—for a lack of a better way to say it—zero chance of surviving in the arena."

"I want to give them a surviving chance."

Either Cinna was a total fool who was blinded by hope or maybe he was smart and knew more than he let on.

Hestia didn't care what Cinna thought. To her his plea for help was a waste of her precious time. Not to mention, the last thing she wanted to do was get involved with the games. Cygnus didn't particularly like his time as a stylist and he wanted his godchildren to stay uninvolved in the games. Hestia didn't have much problem adhering to that rule. She also didn't want anything to do with the impoverished district or it's tributes.

His optimism was wasted. "You do realize that no matter what you—or we do, tributes from Twelve are bound for death, nothing can change that."

"You don't know that."

Dante made a sound and it sounded like he was going to laugh again. This time, Hestia nor Leta bothered to stop him. "No, you are a little too optimistic to not know anything. Everyone knows that Twelve is the district you avoid. They're sole victor is a pathetic drunken idiot and their tributes are scrawny pathetic kids who don't even know left from right."

"Dante, that's enough." Hestia held up her hand and gently pushed her brother back. "But he is right, Twelve's tributes, even if they're promising, are bound for failure because of their mentor."

"That might change." Cinna spared a glance at Leta and took a few step forward towards the Armistice siblings, ignoring Leta. "I want to make that change. Twelve's an underdog. Everybody loves an underdog and I want to create art that makes people think, which is where you and your brother come in. I know you—the hottest up and coming designer, youngest ever to debut a design under an established house and the heir of the famed Cygnus Sarto. I need your help."

His impassioned plea did nothing to move Hestia or Dante. "Flattered but I'll pass, the reaping hasn't even taken place and you're already putting all your eggs in one basket."

Dante nodded in agreement, even Leta couldn't help but agree and in a small voice, she said. "What if…what if the tributes that get reaped are terrible? Even with the most sponsors and the best clothes, they won't stand a chance."

"Then there's always the next year." Cinna pointed out.

"Next year is the Quarter Quell." Hestia reminded. There was a chance that there would be double the amount of tributes like one of the previous years or something completely different.

"Exactly, I might get more chance to show off the beauty of Twelve."

Dante snorted. "I'm sorry. 'Beauty of Twelve'? What's so great 'bout a soot covered district."

"Dante." Hestia pulled at his sleeve and gave him a warning look. For a brief second, his accent seemed to shift but he caught himself before anyone other than his sister noticed. Sometimes, her younger brother really spoke too much. "What he means to say is—why are you so determined?"

"Because I have a vision and my team is not enough. I know you and your brother make your own materials." Hestia glanced over at Leta. Of course, she looked away. She was the one who let it slip. "So what do you say?"

Hestia sighed. "Fine but that's the most you'll get from us so what's your 'vision'?"

"Fire."

"Fire?" Hestia echoed stiffly. She couldn't help but share a knowing dark look with her younger brother. "Fire?" She repeated.

"Fire." Cinna confirmed. "I want to create a dress and a parade outfit that burns."

"Synthetic flames." Dante guessed with a tired sigh. "That'll take some time, I guess I can see why you've been pestering us. I can also do something a little different. Hestia will deal with the fabrics."

"Satin, silk, synthetic silk, taffeta or chiffon?" Hestia listed, grabbing her tablet and stylus. The two siblings were already noting down their ideas without even letting Cinna or Leta get a word in. "I'm not doing any type of lace or wool."

"I already have an idea of what fabrics I want." Cinna took out his own sketchbook and passed it to Hestia who flipped through them while Leta looked over her shoulders. "I was thinking leather or faux leather—it has to be black—"

"To represent the coal?" Hestia guessed, writing it down on her tablet.

"Yeah and then for the interview outfit, I was thinking of fiery red taffeta or something similar."

"I'll make some samples and R-Dante will handle the flames." Hestia turned off her tablet and looked up at Cinna.

The man smiled at her with so much hope in his eyes that she had no choice but to look away as guilt that she had buried deep into her heart tried to dig it's way out. Turning her back to Leta and Cinna, she called for another maid to lead the two away and escort them out. She didn't follow them, she didn't want to and neither did Dante.

In some ways, the two knew why Hestia had chosen to help Cinna without a discussion between the two siblings but knowing his sister, Dante knew she'd never say her reasoning out loud.

Author's note: I'm mixing Cinna from the books and movies on purpose. Like the books, he is younger than the movies but he still looks like the movie Cinna but younger.

Also the chapters from here on will switch between Carina and Hestia's perspective with some from Gale's perspective.