Chapter Eight; Hairs and His

The Chariot rolled out smoothly to the roars of the gathered crowds. Stephanie cringed internally at the onslaught of sound. Keeping her eyes trained on a spot in the distance, she tried to slow her breathing and stop her knees from trembling.

The Chariot moved along swiftly and in perfect order, like everything in the Capitol. Stephanie might have been able to marvel at the sheer magnitude and modernity of everything around her, that is if she was able to convince herself to tear her eyes away from the blank spot they were glued on. However she was terrified that if she did, she would suddenly faint.

The warmth from the lights attached to her began to grow a little uncomfortable and she resisted the urge to tear them off. Stephanie heard a choking sound and out of the corner of her eye she looked at Frenkin, only to realise that the sound had come from her. And then she saw herself.

On huge screens, in minute detail. For a moment she was shocked frozen, unable to recognise the girl on the screen. Until amidst the silver paint and glitter she was able to spot the sharp angles that the stylists had attempted to soften with an array of powders and paints. And then her eyes; her great, great grandfather's eyes, locked with the screens. It was a surreal thing; to lock eyes with oneself. The thought almost made Stephanie laugh giddily as she registered the feel of cool metal beneath her bare feet and thought of Haymitch.

Haymitch's words echoed back to her and swallowing her pride among other things she smiled widely, showing off her new Capitol pearly, white teeth and gave a timid wave. The crowd roared in response and Stephanie waved more confidently, even going as far as to blow a few kisses.

As the Chariot slowed to a stop Stephanie felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to settle as the fluctuating roars died down. She became aware of Frenkin's hand clutching hers desperately where she held onto the Chariot with an iron-tight grip. Smiling at him softly she took his clammy hand discreetly and held it tightly, while President Snow appeared at the podium and the crowd fell silent.

He gave a speech from his high stage and Stephanie couldn't help the feeling of hatred that bubbled up in her, as he welcomed them casually as though they were guests here of their own free-will. Biting her tongue she was thankful when the Chariot once more jerked forward and they entered a vast, scrupulously clean room, concealing them from sight.

The Chariot jolted to a stop and Stephanie closed her eyes briefly. The whole ordeal had seemed to last but seconds. She was pulled from her reveries when Frenkin's hand slipped from hers.

She turned to look at him when she saw both teams of stylists charging towards them.

Oh…damn, Stephanie thought, as she tried to act casual.

Alba was there first, blubbering so much he could barely form words until he was consoled by his three stylists. Frenkin looked on with a look of silent pleading and Stephanie gave him an encouraging smile, that was until…

She was abruptly yanked off the Chariot and was barely able to right herself in time as to not crash face-first into the floor. Her dress was hauled up sharply above her knees, and she managed to restrain the trigger kick before it could connect with Bright's face.

A series of horrified gasps erupted from her team of stylists.

"I knew it. I had made that dress perfectly so that it would just miss the floor by a hair, giving the illusion that you actually had a figure - not pool around your feet like a sack!" Ficen was livid to say the least. Stephanie just stared at her dumbfounded.

She could practically see Ficen's nostrils flaring and Stephanie started to consider the possibility of fleeing but decided she wouldn't get far. She kept her eyes trained on Ficen's fierce gaze, afraid to drop it. Haymitch's words when he had called her a wild animal drifted back to her. That man has got me in nothing but trouble from the start, Stephanie thought silently to herself.

"Speak of the devil," Stephanie muttered under her breath, as out of the corner of her eye Stephanie saw Haymitch approaching them, followed by a tottering Isa in a puffy, green dress.

Ficen opened her mouth, no doubt to complain to Haymitch about Stephanie again, when Haymitch cut across her. "Isa wants to talk dresses," he said and just at that Isa finally reached them and pounced on Ficen, talking so fast it was a miracle anyone could understand her. Even Ficen herself seemed overwhelmed by the sudden attack and Bright, Lashes and Silver were nearly cowering behind her narrow form.

Stephanie stared on in amazement until she received a harsh push from Haymitch. With an exasperated sigh she gathered the blue material up in her hands before she tripped over it and moved. Haymitch rescued a grateful Frenkin from the grasps of an over emotional Alba and they made for a silver lift a few metres away.

"What was that?" Stephanie finally said as they stepped into the lift.

"I like to refer to it as the Isa Blitz," Haymitch replied in a rather self-pleased tone.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, you see I discovered that if you mention any form of clothing to Isa she can talk for hours. So I told her that Ficen had designed a new dress named after her."

Stephanie couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. Her laughter reverberated off the lift until the doors slid open silently on the 3rd floor.

However even then she couldn't stop laughing, as she remained doubled over clutching her stomach. Maybe it was the thought that she didn't have much longer left until the arena, and she would rather laugh than cry that made Haymitch's comments so amusing to her.

Rolling his eyes Haymitch forcibly removed her from the lift, shoving her down onto a nearby sofa until finally her laughter died off and she was able to take in her surroundings.

Stephanie gave a low whistle. The room was big while furniture was sparse making the room look even bigger. One whole wall was made of complete glass and her eyes widened as she saw the view of the Capitol provided. She ran her fingertips over the expensive, cream leather of the sofa she was sitting on, thinking how she had never felt anything as luxurious in her life.

Just then something flashed by her and she turned in time to catch a glimpse of Frenkin as he raced by. "Frenkin!" she called after him.

He stopped briefly to tell her that the bedrooms were "humongous" and that he was going to check the other rooms. She smirked as he raced off once more, relaxing back into the soft leather, content to remain still for now.

Haymitch appeared and handed her a glass of something while he sat down beside her, a glass in his own hand.

She looked at it suspiciously. "What is this?" she asked.

He glanced at her and laughed. "Please darling, I need you able to stand and talk for tomorrow," he said.

She smirked but made no argument with him, as she took a long, satisfying drink of the cold water.

"Will Isa not be mad when she finds out you lied to her?" Stephanie asked after a moment of silence.

"Nah, you will find that Isa is very lenient when it comes to the opposite sex," Haymitch replied arrogantly as he took a gulp from his own glass.

Stephanie sat forward to turn and look at him properly, one of her eyebrows arched. "What? It's true!" he defended.

She shook her head which called her attention once more to the huge headpiece she was still wearing. She sat her glass down and turned to him.

"Help me get this off," she said beginning to fumble with the intricate workings of it.

He looked at her with a 'you've got to be joking' expression, until she gave him a nudge with her knee and he sat his own glass down. Sighing he moved closer so that he could work at it, batting her hands away.

"OW!" Stephanie said as he pulled at her hair.

"Stop moving!" he complained, as another few pins fell with almost inaudible tinkles to the cool, white, marble floor.

"I said remove the headpiece, not my hair," she snapped as she grimaced.

"Ficen should be doing this," he said in annoyance as his brows knitted together in concentration.

"Well thanks to someone, she hates me."

"Oh no sweetheart, she hated you before that."

"Shut up! You aren't exactly Prince Charming either."

"Ha! Without me you would have fell off that Chariot."

"I would have managed fine and stop pulling my hair."

"Then why didn't you leave the shoes on?! And I'm not, you keep moving."

"You took them off!" she said making to stand suddenly but finding herself pulled abruptly back down and sitting in Haymitch's lap.

"What are you doing?" she said, making to stand again.

He pulled her back down. "Stay still!...My hand is stuck," he trailed off.

"Oh you have got to be joking me!" she cried.

"Oh believe me sweetheart, I wish I was!" he replied.

He tugged sharply and she dealt him a sharp blow to the stomach.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

"Stop pulling my hair, my head hurts enough! Do it again and you will find I can hit lower…remember last time?" she warned in response.

He growled something unintelligible in response but his tugs immediately got lighter. She sat with her arms folded on Haymitch's knees while his hands pulled at her hair.

"This is ridiculous," she said after a few moments.

"Well I don't see you helping any sweetheart!" he snapped back.

She turned her head to glare at him, well as much as possible.

"Frenkin, get me a pair of scissors!" Haymitch called.

"NOOO!" she practically screamed, and Haymitch winced.

"Fine, what do you want me to do?" he demanded.

She growled at him before she began to tackle the chaos that had amounted on her head – quite literally.

"That is my hand you're bending."

"Well sorry, but your hand is in my hair!"

"Oh believe me darling, I am well aware. In fact, I think it is quite impossible to escape the fact that my hand is stuck in your hair. In fa…OW!"

With one last final tug Stephanie managed to very forcibly rip Haymitch's hand from her hair, and the metal contortion fell to the ground in a noisy clatter. Her hair cascaded down her back in waves releasing a shower of glitter that made her sneeze.

She was massaging her sore head when Haymitch cleared his throat.

"If you wouldn't mind sweetheart..." he said.

With a huff she stood up immediately from Haymitch's lap. She considered throwing a glass of water around him for no particular reason, other than it would make her feel better, but she decided against it. Instead she stormed off in the direction that Frenkin had identified as the bedrooms.