Chapter Thirty-Seven; Jealousy

(Ficen's POV)

Ficen was just about to knock on the door labelled very obviously 'control room'. But then afterall, it wasn't as if anyone who would be considered a threat would be here.

The door was pulled open sharply instead and Ficen stood with her hand in mid-air for a moment before she dropped it.

"Ficen, follow me."

Ficen followed him into the room and past the screens that showed the crowds of people down the hall milling around, and a few Capitol workers sat tapping away dutifully at control boards.

He stopped in front of her and turned to face her abruptly in one of the darkened hallways.

"Seneca, what is this about?" Ficen demanded.

"Is that anyway to speak to me, Ficen?" he replied sharply.

Ficen cowered slightly. "No, I'm sorry," she apologised meekly.

Ficen; head stylist that could make hell freeze over with a harsh glare was reduced to nothing more than a timid woman in front of Seneca Crane.

"What is the situation in District 3's penthouse?" he asked.

Ficen looked at him dumbly, but his sharp gaze warned her silently.

Ficen swallowed hard. "I ordered in extra guards,"

"I know. Why?" he enforced through gritted teeth.

She looked over his shoulder concentrating on the dark hallway.

"Ficen." His tone was calm and controlled but there was an edge to it.

She couldn't tell him it was the only way to make Isa and all the others who had witnessed her 'deal' with Stephanie, remain silent on the matter.

Little did Stephanie or even Haymitch know it, but while they were arguing in their room – and not as quietly as they might have thought – Ficen was arguing with the stylists and Isa.

Isa might be naïve but even this she couldn't ignore. They had wanted to report Stephanie immediately but Ficen had refused, convincing them that they would get into trouble over it all; something that any aspiring stylist or escort could do without.

She had requested the guards, in order to allay their fears and ensure their silence.

There was also another reason.

If Stephanie had of been reported she would have been brought before the Gamemakers to be given a formal warning. It would be too much hassle to get another tribute by this stage and they needed her physically well enough so she could participate. So a warning from the Gamemakers was meant to scare the tribute into obedience.

However selfishly, Ficen realised that Stephanie would be brought before Seneca…her Seneca.

Ficen had been in love with Seneca Crane since the day he had become Head Gamemaker but Seneca had only ever received her attentions with mild amusement. Sure after one too many at one of the numerous Capitol parties he had tumbled into bed with her, it was evident that it meant nothing to him.

Ficen had seen the necklace being given to her brother Cen at the boutique, but did nothing to stop it. She sat back with a malevolent smirk as Stephanie slowly lost control of the situation and her panic rose and only when Stephanie was on the verge of collapse did Ficen go and drag her off the stage.

Stephanie hadn't been the only one to see Seneca that day.

Ficen's suspicions had been piqued with the dinner and the missing hour in Stephanie's story. Ficen was able to weasel the information out of Dess with promises concerning Stephanie and future events. Ficen was only too happy to see the sly glint in Dess' eyes as she wondered joyfully just how much Stephanie would suffer.

At first she thought that Seneca had just arranged the dinner because she was from District 3. He did seem to have an obsession of some sort with the district, but at the boutique and then the necklace confirmed it. Seneca had some personal interest, of what she wasn't sure, in Stephanie.

When she had went to pick up the rest of Stephanie's shopping with Isa, out of the corner of her eye Ficen had caught the bloody-nosed attendant limp back into the store.

After much grilling and the attendant looking even worse than before, he had finally confessed that it was Seneca that had left him like so and explained what had seemed to be the cause of Seneca's anger.

Ficen had gone into a rage then. Seneca didn't lose his temper so carelessly over anything and here he was beating up attendants in alleys because Stephanie had got upset? Ficen saw red.

She made up some story about the attendant smuggling weapons to tributes and watched with satisfaction as he was dragged off. She had to protect Seneca after all. And just for good measure she gave up her brother Cen also. Ficen had never really believed in the saying that 'blood was thicker than water.'

And besides, if Seneca found out that she saw the necklace being handed over and did nothing to stop it then Seneca would be angry with her. No, better to end it all before it could begin.

The whole time Ficen's anger and resentment of Stephanie grew and grew and though she hated to admit it; her jealousy also. Why was Seneca so caught up with her? Arranging private dinners and giving her necklaces!

That was why she had lost her temper last night and things had got out of hand. And Stephanie's ever watchful guard-dog Haymitch had jumped in per usual.

Ficen suspected that things between the two were close, but she had of yet no proof, except the furtive glances they exchanged when they thought no one was looking.

Seneca's gaze had hardened even further as Ficen hesitated to answer him.

"I said, why did you order in the extra guards to the District 3 penthouse?" Seneca reiterated icily.

"I thought she was going to make an attempt to escape," Ficen answered.

Seneca looked at her in contempt.

"Are you really so stupid Ficen? How on earth could she possibly escape?"

Ficen dropped her gaze, feeling humiliated and with it anger curling up in a tight coil ready to be let loose as soon as she was free to do so. And she knew exactly who was going to be on the receiving end of it.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Get rid of them by tonight," he warned in a low voice.

"Could you not do it?" she asked suddenly.

Seneca's gaze hardened even further, if possible.

"It is your mess Ficen – you fix it," Seneca snarled.

It confirmed what Ficen had suspected. If Seneca did so it would show particular attention or 'favouritism' on his part. She guessed that he probably wasn't even supposed to be here today. She had heard no one mention a speech or visit from the Head Gamemaker at today's event.

"Yes Seneca," she dropped her gaze once more. She felt her anger curl even tighter within her – Why the hell was Seneca taking risks like this for?

"Now, get out," Seneca brushed by her roughly and disappeared into one of the other rooms.

Ficen took a moment to compose herself and then left the room, storming down the hall.

The way things were going Stephanie would be lucky if she made it to the arena unscathed.