Chapter Thirty; Blue
(Stephanie's POV)
Stephanie hugged her arms about her waist feeling vulnerable as she sat in the car with a glaring Ficen, a giddy Isa and three gossiping stylists. She tried to force the feeling of Haymitch's warm arms around her waist to linger, but all too soon she felt cold and an involuntary shiver running down her spine caused her to shudder.
Ficen was still watching her closely as if any minute now Stephanie might make a jump from the moving car.
"So, where is it we are heading?" Stephanie asked, trying to sound somewhat remotely interested. Ficen scoffed at her ignorance as Lashes launched into a full description of the clothes to expect with added commentary from Bright, Silver and Isa.
Stephanie didn't care really but Ficen's continued glaring was making her uneasy.
Shopping. Back home in District 3 'shopping' or as close as they got to it just meant looking at things that you could never have, half-bartering, half-begging just to get in the essentials. The whole idea of 'shopping' in the Capitol was somewhat overwhelming to Stephanie.
The drive was longer than the one to the restaurant had been the previous night or maybe it just seemed that way because of the company she had this time. After five minutes Stephanie immediately regretted asking about the shops as a dull throbbing began in her head.
When the car stopped and the door was opened Stephanie was ready to lunge for the open air, though she suspected Ficen would tackle her before she could make it out of the car.
Stephanie stepped out onto the smooth pavement taking a moment to steady herself and assess her surroundings.
To her right and to her left stretched tall buildings of gentle pastel colours and bright window displays.
Ficen directed her towards the pale pink one in front of her forcibly. As they pushed through the door there was a clear ring of a bell.
Stephanie reigned in her shock at finding that the cameras were already filming her and a crowd had pre-emptively gathered. Ficen pushed her towards a man standing at the front that looked like he could be Ficen's brother.
As Stephanie neared and the man's scowl deepened Stephanie began to have strong suspicions that he was definitely related to Ficen.
"This is Cen, one of the top stylists in the whole Capitol," Ficen introduced.
Stephanie didn't know how she was expected to respond but she was aware that the cameras were still trained on her, and she could hear the murmurs of the crowd behind her. However thankfully Cen took the lead.
"Welcome Miss Trindlesworth to my Emporium of Superior Clothing." Cen had the type of nasally voice that Stephanie could imagine herself wanting to punch him for after listening to it for a while.
Stephanie smiled brightly. "I am honoured to be here," she replied. Stephanie had no idea what angle she was meant to be playing for. She couldn't do sultry and seductive like the girl with the short, dark blonde hair from District 2, or sweet and bubbly like the small glossy, haired girl from District 1. She could do honest, sarcastic and violent, though she wasn't sure they would help her cause at all.
"I have taken the liberty of selecting some outfits that I think may suit you. If you come this way we can start immediately showcasing them." Cen lead the way further into the shop.
They passed extravagant displays of silk and cashmere and other luxurious fabrics and bright colours that Stephanie had no name for. Finally they reached the back of the room where a large area had been cleared with a sort of long stage. There were also rows of seats and at the far back of the stage there was an ornate changing screen set up. The crowd began to fill the seats that had been laid out for them.
Stephanie flushed scarlet red even as she allowed Isa, who seemed by far the most excited, behind the screen.
Once behind the safety of the cover of the screen Stephanie let her bright façade falter. Lashes and Bright pulled impatiently at the ties that held up her dress at the back as Stephanie tried to quell her shaking.
Ficen immediately appeared at the other end with a bunch of silver silks in her arms.
With sharp tugs and much squeezing Stephanie finally was ready to model the outfit.
In a pair of tall black heels and a silver dress Stephanie stepped out from behind the screen. The crowd gathered broke into applause and there was a ripple of murmured approvals.
Stephanie stood tall and smiled widely just trying to concentrate on not falling.
After 'attempted strutting' to showcase the dress Stephanie stumbled gratefully once more behind the safety of the screen.
She was barely there a moment before Lashes, Bright and Ficen began to rip the dress from her. Stephanie tried to appear indignant pushing their hands away but it made no difference.
Stephanie could hear the reporters interviewing Cen as he told them about his designs. Stephanie really wanted to punch him, though she would settle for anyone at the moment.
Isa continued to mumble words of encouragement and advice about keeping her head up, while Ficen told her how awful she was doing and that it was a degradation that such wonderful clothes should have to endure her. Stephanie couldn't help but smirk at Ficen in grim amusement.
Stephanie was next forced into some flowing backless and strapless dress. Stephanie glanced panicked in the floor length mirror. "Ficen!" she whispered furiously. Ficen's white head snapped up from where she was adjusting Stephanie's skirts.
"There is nothing holding my dress up," Stephanie explained in panic, hands clutching the bodice of the dress tightly.
Ficen gave a smug smirk. "Move your hands," Ficen said, and then pulled them away fiercely when Stephanie refused.
Stephanie waited for the dress to pool around her feet but it stayed put and Stephanie stared in amazement.
The dress fitted tightly to every curve of her body until it reached her knees where it flared out and behind in an impressive shower of diamond studded netting. The dress itself was an icy blue in colour and a shiver ran down Stephanie's spine as she recalled memories she would rather forget.
Stephanie stepped out as elegantly as she could, hands poised like claws to catch her falling dress. She still didn't trust Ficen that her dress was gravity-defying, though as she felt the familiar feeling of her blood flow being cut off around her chest, Stephanie began to have an inkling of what was holding her dress up.
She strode to stand in front of the crowd and placing her hands on her hips tilted her chin confidently.
There was another rippled applause and murmurs of approval. Even Cen seemed somewhat pleased with this one.
Stephanie stood still as Cen explained his inspiration for the design.
Stephanie gave a dazzling smile, letting her eyes glide over the crowd filled with dozens of painted and unfamiliar faces.
But then…Stephanie inhaled sharply as her eyes got a glimpse of a familiar face and her head snapped back frantically, searching the crowd for him. She scanned the faces but he wasn't there.
It couldn't have been him. But…she could have sworn she saw him. Eyes the colour of the very dress she was wearing. But it couldn't be him. He couldn't be here.
Stephanie tried to slow her racing heartbeat; grateful that Haymitch had went with Frenkin.
Stephanie stopped herself just in time from dealing a reporter a swift elbow to the gut when he slinked up behind her silently, and slid an arm around her waist.
"Well, well Miss Stephanie Trindlesworth, female tribute from District 3, what do you think of this dress?" The man's smile was far too wide as he presented her to the crowd.
Stephanie glanced uneasily over the crowd once more, trying to reassure herself.
"It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Stephanie replied, though her answer lacked the enthusiasm that the statement needed. However the crowd seemed satisfied and cheered loudly.
Stephanie looked at the faces in front of her. It wasn't him, she repeated the words over and over in her head.
"Well Stephanie…may I call you Stephanie?" Stephanie nodded her consent and the reporter beamed down at her again, pulling her closer to him. Stephanie allowed her elbow to press firmly into his ribs in warning.
"I must say Stephanie, and I think all the wonderful people here would agree, that you look quite ravishing in this dress. Wouldn't you agree?" the reporter asked the crowd.
He was met by cheers and positive replies. Stephanie flamed red. She had never felt more humiliated in her life. She hated this feeling of being sold.
The reporter was starting to seriously annoy Stephanie. His breath smelt like mint against Stephanie's cheek, but it wasn't pleasant, it was almost burning. And he had a habit of leaning in as if to speak to her confidentially, only to speak loudly to the crowd and almost deafen her.
"Well Stephanie, is there a special someone who would be pleased by what he saw right now?" The reporter winked at Stephanie and there were a few whistles from the crowd.
Stephanie blushed scarlet red and opened her mouth to speak hastily and say there was no one, but the reporter cut across her.
"Oh look at that blush! Ladies and Gentlemen our Stephanie here has a lover!" The crowd erupted into a whole cacophony of sounds.
Stephanie's eyes widened in horror as she felt her anger build up in her.
"Since when did remaining silent mean yes, and actually the answer is damn well no," Stephanie said frowning and crossing her arms sternly.
She didn't have time to regret her angry words because to her growing ire the reporter only laughed loudly and the crowd followed suit. "Okay Stephanie - whatever you say!" And here he gave her an over-exaggerated wink.
Stephanie saw red in those moments until she saw blue, or rather a pair of icy blue eyes watching her and her red anger melted away to leave a cold chill.
However as soon as she saw them they were gone again, but the colour had drained from Stephanie's face.
The reporter was interrupted by one of Cen's young female assistants who handed him a package and whispered something in his ear.
The reporter's eyes leapt to life and his grin grew even wider if that were possible.
"My, my, my Stephanie, you are a sly one – keeping your juicy secret from us!" The reporter tore at the white ribbon that bound the black box closed.
Stephanie stared at him in confusion and the crowd edged forward eagerly, talking excitedly amongst themselves while the cameras caught it all on film.
"Our Stephanie here has a lover…"Stephanie was about to protest once more when the reporter's next words silenced her. "A lover indeed ladies and gentlemen, but not just any old district tail, no! Our Stephanie here has a lover from the Capitol!"
The crowd erupted once more into delighted squeals and applause.
"Who is it?"
"Yes – tell us who it is!"
"Is it your dinner date?"
"Dinner date! – Is it Dess?"
The crowd were on their feet now calling out to her. The ever present guards stopped them from openly running up and accosting her.
Stephanie felt her head spin. No…not here, she begged silently, please don't let me faint.
The reporter raised his hands up to appease the crowd and a silence that hummed with electricity fell over the gathered Capitolites as they waited eagerly.
"Here, I have the proof!" The reporter opened the lid of the box and presented to the crowd and Stephanie its contents.
Inside was a necklace of sparkling diamonds and ice blue gems.
Stephanie could feel the blood pounding in her ears as she looked upon the necklace, feeling as if she were trapped in some sort of surreal nightmare.
But she wasn't dreaming. She was here and she hadn't imagined seeing those ice blue eyes.
Seneca was here.
Stephanie felt anger fire through her blood at the thought, that Seneca was in this very place watching her in amusement as she was the laughing stock of these Capitol imbeciles.
"No, I have no lover from the Capitol. I have only one lover and he is from my District!" Stephanie forgot her judgement and allowed anger to seep into her very words, directing a deliberate and disdainful glare at the necklace.
As she glared at the inanimate object her eyes caught two words scrawled almost haphazardly across the inside.
'Thank-you'
"Two lovers! A Capitol lover and a District lover!" The reporter crowed delightedly.
More shouts came from the crowd and Stephanie felt her legs go weak beneath her. She was going to faint. Stephanie clutched the cool material of the dress in her hands as her eyes scanned the crowd.
She needed Haymitch here.
But he wasn't here, and she possibly gave him away.
Stephanie's breathing was ragged. Black spots began to appear across her vision.
Stephanie gave a distressed cry at the feel of the cool metal sliding around her throat as the reporter boldly secured the necklace.
She raised a shaky hand to the jewellery that felt like a noose around her neck.
Suddenly there was a hand on her back.
She glanced back looking for Haymitch. But it wasn't him, she knew it wasn't him – he wasn't here.
It was Ficen and she was smiling brightly out at the crowd. "Please, please you are overwhelming her. She is nothing but a simple district girl," Ficen tried to explain.
But the crowd would not be appeased.
"Who is her Capitol lover?"
"Who is her District lover?"
"Who does she love the most?"
The questions began to blur into one big rioting noise. Stephanie stumbled and Ficen caught her about the waist.
"Don't you dare faint here in front of the cameras," Ficen snarled in her ear.
Ficen dragged her off the stage making for the cover of the changing screen. She shouted out promises of return to the roaring crowd and insistent reporter.
Once behind the screen Ficen pushed Stephanie harshly and as Stephanie stumbled she struck her head against the changing screen.
Ficen was speaking to her. She was furious but Stephanie couldn't hear her over the din of the crowd.
Stephanie raised her hand tentatively to her head just above her temple where her hair was sticky and wet.
Stephanie drew her hand back to look at her fingertips stained red.
The world went up in blinding blue before fading to black as Stephanie crumpled to the ground.
…
(Seneca's POV)
Furious. Completely livid. Nothing could describe the anger he felt at that moment.
"I told you to give it to the head stylist!" he snarled.
The young man shook violently, one of his eyes swollen shut and blood drooling from his busted lip.
"I did but I swear!"
"The wrong one you idiot!" The man gave out a pained yelp as Seneca's fist collided with his jaw.
"When I said give it to the head stylist, I meant give it to Ficen! Not Cen!" Seneca clenched his fists tightly and the man below him cowered as he whimpered pitifully.
"Sir, we best be moving on," one of his personal guards urged quietly.
Seneca took a few steadying breaths before he turned on his heel sharply and left the secluded alley to slide gratefully into the cool darkness of his car.
He had to speak to her. Explain that it was a mistake. He had never meant for all that to happen. It was meant to be a private gift in gratitude – even if she wouldn't wear it she could at least sell it, but this idiot had given it to the wrong person.
Seneca sighed heavily, shutting his eyes. An image of Stephanie stepping out in an elegant blue dress taunted him. Seneca growled in frustration. He wasn't used to things not going his way.
His mind drifted to the damning interview between Stephanie and the reporter and suddenly his eyes narrowed, fists clenching tightly as his thoughts halted at one particular question…
Who was this District lover?
Right, there you have it; not to insult your intelligence or anything; but in short - Seneca wanted to give Stephanie the necklace as a 'thank-you' (Ch26), but the 'messenger' give it to the wrong Head Stylist; Cen, instead of Ficen. Cen, not knowing the significance, passed it on, resulting in chaos...!