Chapter Seven; Barefoot
She had barely had time to hear Haymitch's rushed words on the platform, before they had been whisked away; something about preening.
The events that followed had all been a blur. The Capitol in a word was…overwhelming. Stephanie could barely distinguish the explosion of colours that was a constant whirl around her. She and Frenkin were ushered into the waiting arms of their stylist teams, all the while looking like goldfish with gaping mouths and wide eyes.
Frenkin's styling team was headed by a tall man with cropped, lime green hair called Alba and another three, who Stephanie barely got glimpses off, before she was plonked down on a cool, leather recliner, and two new faces swirled before her.
The woman nearest to her, with skin that practically glowed and bright orange lips, started to hastily unbutton Stephanie's shirt. Stephanie brushed her hands away forcibly.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Stephanie cried indignantly, clutching her shirt to her protectively.
The woman beside her had wide blue eyes with impossibly long glittering lashes. She turned to her friend beside her and whispered something conspiratorially. Stephanie felt uneasy.
Suddenly another woman appeared. She was tall with narrow shoulders. Her lips were a deep purple, almost black, and were already pulled into a displeased frown while one perfect white eyebrow shot upwards.
"Why is she still in these clothes?" the woman demanded, as she inspected Stephanie with something akin to disgust. A man flanked her who was barely taller than Stephanie and had short brown hair and neat silver nails.
"Who are you?" Stephanie demanded. She tried to sound strong and confident but her words came out as a meek plead, much to her chagrin.
"I am Ficen; your stylist. This is Nina, Kas and Wint." The woman gestured to the woman with orange lips, then the one with the pale blue eyes and finally the man respectively as she spoke.
Without a moment's hesitation Stephanie dismissed the names. There was no way she was going to remember them. Instead, in her head, she christened Nina – Bright, because of her glowing skin, Kas – Lashes, because of her long eyelashes, and Wint – Silver, on account of his nails. She however, held back on giving Ficen a nickname, as she had an inkling feeling that before long she would have plenty of names for Ficen.
Ficen stood with one decorated hand on her hip and the other arm erect in the air as though she were going to examine her nails. However her violet gaze was fixed disapprovingly on Stephanie, who squirmed uncomfortably.
"Take the clothes off and put the robe on. They will try and fix you up as much as humanely possible while I go and get a large drink," Ficen stated. Absent-mindedly Stephanie was fascinated by how loud Ficen's voice was in comparison to how her lips moved so minimally when she spoke.
When Ficen's words sunk in Stephanie looked up at her with a somewhat confused expression, but Ficen had already lost interest in her.
"You would think after so many years, I would actually get something worthwhile to work with, but no! All I get is scrawny, pale kids!" And with her short rant practically reverberating off the walls, Ficen stormed off.
Stephanie stared after her agape. She had no idea whether to feel insulted or thank Ficen for styling her. However Stephanie's attention was claimed as 'Bright' once more took to tugging at Stephanie's shirt.
After hours of what had been agony for Stephanie she was finally left in a room by herself, where she had been told to wait for Ficen. The real agony of her styling, had been in the unknown. She would be enjoying the feeling of hot water – a rare luxury – and the next moment it felt as though the stylists wanted to peel the very skin off her body.
Furthermore the whole time the three stylists had talked non-stop, not one word to her, although their entire conversation seemed to be about her.
"Well, her hair is long. It will give Ficen something to work with, at least," Bright had said, as she tugged sharply on Stephanie's hair until Stephanie could feel tears prick at the corners of her eyes.
"This is more like straw than hair!" Lashes had exclaimed.
"And so many dead-ends! How could anyone let their hair fall into such a desperate state?" Silver had added distastefully.
They seemed to not even care that Stephanie could hear them, and it annoyed Stephanie all the more. So she had 'grinned and bore' all their prodding and snipping, because she didn't want to give them any more excuses to complain.
Waiting in the room, Stephanie massaged her tender red skin and nearly sprang off the table when Ficen burst in through the door.
"Well, there is a slight improvement," Ficen finally admitted begrudgingly.
Stephanie knew it would be in her best interests to be on good terms with all who could possibly help her, but the word 'thanks' choked in her throat. There was no way she could demean herself enough to say it.
Ficen circled her once and then in her loud voice stated, "I have your costume ready." She snapped her fingers authoritatively and Bright rushed in with a long plastic bag concealing her outfit in it. Bright laid the concealed outfit reverentially on the table, before going to stand obediently beside Ficen, awaiting her next orders.
Ficen looked at Stephanie once more, and then with a sigh she threw her arms up in the air. "Let's get it over with," she said in an exasperated tone.
Unzipping the bag Ficen revealed the outfit and Stephanie gulped hard.
To Stephanie it looked half finished, with large chunks of material missing. Ficen looked at her work appreciatively while Bright squealed loudly, offering synonymous words of praise.
The top half consisted of two broad, black satin strips of material that crossed to form a halter neck of some sort. They were attached to an electric blue, floor length skirt, that Stephanie doubted even Ficen with her narrow body could squeeze into.
"Well, come on!" Ficen said impatiently. Stephanie obediently complied and went behind a screen to slip the dress on. After the initial feeling of dizziness had passed, from having her blood flow severed to her legs by the constrictive dress, she began to fumble with the straps, completely confounded on how they were meant to work.
Finally, much to her embarrassment and Ficen's growing impatience, Stephanie admitted defeat and Bright happily helped her with them. The two straps criss-crossed across her torso covering what was necessary, and then wrapped around her neck, leaving her back, arms and abdomen bare. Stephanie grew wide-eyed as she realised this was how she was meant to go out on the Chariot.
"You cannot be serious! I know the outfits are meant to reflect the district but …how does being half-naked reflect my district?!" Stephanie said angrily.
Ficen stared at her, violet eyes silently screaming warning. However Stephanie was just as angry.
"Your outfit isn't finished yet" Ficen said dryly.
After Stephanie's own little outburst Ficen had proceeded to laboriously secure tiny gems that shone brightly like lights, all over her exposed abdomen and back. Then two metal coils of cold, silver like wires were secured around her wrists like bracelets, and an even heavier one around her neck. Stephanie only hoped they didn't put one on her head.
After much tugging and painful curses, Ficen deemed Stephanie's hair 'passable'. The sides had been pulled back tautly and sprayed gleaming silver, as were her lips and eyes. Her hair had been secured up with some ridiculous metal head piece with bright lights. Stephanie was convinced she had gained extra height from all the hair Ficen had piled on top of her head.
What seemed to Stephanie a lifetime later, her outfit was finally finished. She now stood beside Frenkin waiting patiently to be ushered onto their Chariot.
When she had looked at Frenkin she couldn't help but smile at the similar huge metal contortion on his head that sat slightly lopsided, and the dazed look in his silver rimmed eyes as he gazed about himself.
"Frenkin!" she called when she was beside him. The poor boy almost jumped out of his skin.
"Where are your glasses?" she asked, as she noticed he was without them.
"They said I didn't need them. They put glasses in my eyes and I can see now," Frenkin replied and blinked a few times rapidly.
Stephanie allowed herself a quick glance about her at the other tributes that were making final preparations. She felt the familiar nausea feeling in her stomach as her eyes met the tall and strong tributes of the Careers. She glanced down quickly, feeling the colour drain from her face.
Suddenly Stephanie felt a strong hand pull her arm fiercely; combined with the skyscraper silver shoes that Ficen had seen fit to make her wear, Stephanie immediately lost her balance and fell forward, only to be caught by said hands and held up.
She looked up to meet Haymitch's gaze as he glared at her.
"What did you do?" he said, never releasing his hold on her arms.
"What?" she shot back frowning.
"I have just received an earful from your stylist Ficen on how impossible you are. Is it really that hard to just do what you're told?" His voice had lost some of its venom, as his grip on her loosened.
Stephanie looked up at him feeling her own anger dissipate. Haymitch was on her side, she knew that. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. He gave a deep sigh letting go of her once she steadied herself.
"Sweetheart… you have to swallow your pride and play doll if you want to have a chance," he said to her, forcing her to meet his gaze.
She nodded after a moment, suddenly feeling very childish as she glanced about her sheepishly.
"Hey," Haymitch said gently, as he tilted her chin up to look at him. "You won't get much sponsors with a face like that," he said.
She gave a small chuckle and gave him a beaming smile. "Better," he replied.
"Well…anyway, how do I look?" she said, striking an impromptu pose.
He looked her up and down. "Like a giant circuit board," he replied.
She laughed, shaking her head fondly. Behind her Frenkin's stylist Alba had appeared, and was busy making last preparations on a very nervous Frenkin.
She looked around her and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What?" Haymitch asked, noticing her look.
"You're the only mentor here," she said.
"Yea, I'm meant to already be in my seat but someone forced me to come down here," he said with a pointed glance. She scoffed at him, "Yeah right, you were looking for the bar no doubt."
A Capitol woman dressed in white called out for the tributes to get on their Chariots. A cacophony of chaos started up all around as stylists rushed to make finishing touches. Stephanie gulped hard.
"Just keep smiling." She felt Haymitch's hair tickle her cheek as he whispered it in her ear, so it was possible for her to hear him over the ruckus.
With a hand pressed to the small of her back Haymitch directed her over to the appropriate Chariot. However Stephanie was barely able to walk upright in the heels.
"You have to do this," Haymitch said firmly, as he mistook her hesitation for nerves.
"I know. It's the stupid shoes," she growled back in annoyance.
Haymitch glanced down and received a firm kick from Stephanie, when he hauled the long, electric blue material up unceremoniously to her shins, so he could see what she was talking about.
Frenkin was lifted on to the Chariot by a teary-eyed Alba who was gushing over how proud he was off his 'little prodigy'. All around the tributes were getting ready.
Panic coursed through Stephanie's veins. "I can't stand up in a moving Chariot in these," she rushed.
Haymitch went to his knees. "Hold that," he instructed, shoving the blue skirt into Stephanie's hands.
Stephanie's mouth dropped open. "What are you doing?" she hissed, as Haymitch began to hastily undo the straps on the shoes.
He slipped the first one of and she welcomed the balance she regained as she placed her weight on her now bare foot, and Haymitch attacked the other strap.
All the tributes were on the Chariots. "Ficen will kill me for this, and you came down to shout at me for her already giving off!" Her words were rushed together as Haymitch got the other shoe off.
He stood up with a roguish smile and Stephanie dropped the material in her hands. "She already hates you anyway," he replied.
She swatted him with her hand and smirked. They rushed over to the Chariot and Haymitch half pushed, half lifted her onto it beside a quaking Frenkin, who immediately moved closer to Stephanie.
"Looking…bright kid," Haymitch said to Frenkin. Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him but Haymitch merely winked, and then Stephanie snapped round as she felt the jolt of the Chariot move forward.