Chapter Fifty-Eight; Risks
(Stephanie's POV)
"Well boys and girls, I hate to rob you of my company but my public awaits." Cron gave them all a salute and a wink at the bottom of the stairs.
Lana smirked and shook her head hopelessly at him. Har looked…bored. Everyone else was a little stunned but Stephanie couldn't help but smile as Cron bounded up the stairs with an enthusiasm that matched Tarii's, but lacking his district partner's graceful coordination.
Stephanie winced in preparation for the high-pitch screech that would block out the outside world again but it never came. Instead it was like someone had just turned the volume down until finally mute for the outside. Her ears gave a subtle pop but that was all Stephanie was thankful to note, no horrendous screeching.
Stephanie tried not to focus her attention on the now empty spaces beside her under the bright '1' and so instead she turned to Frenkin.
"And then…" Frenkin tapped his closed fist twice and then turned and opened it. "It's gone," he finished triumphantly.
Ava gasped in wonderment beside him, staring with wide eyes at Frenkin's empty palm.
Stephanie felt a twinge in her heart as she looked at Ava and Frenkin. Ava still reminded her so much of Eldi, despite her green eyes being distinct at this close distance.
She watched Frenkin close his hand again and Ava tapped his hand twice under Frenkin's instructions. Frenkin opened his hand and once more Ava's ring reappeared in it.
Ava gave a delighted squeal, her green eyes sparkling with mirth as Frenkin blushed scarlet red.
A thought occurred to Stephanie. The first time she had saw Frenkin's face at the Reaping she had recognised him from showing Eldi and some other children similar tricks with a pebble.
The Capitol had changed many things. The trick was now used as a distraction before a Panem-wide interview instead of a childhood pastime, it was now being shared with a fellow tribute who most likely would never return instead of friends, and it was an expensive diamond ring that was the item not a scuffed pebble. And yet it was the same.
Ava's face was still lit up with that same childhood wonderment and amazement as Eldi's had been, and Frenkin still blushed bashfully proud of his little trick that had brought a sparse moment of joy to something dark and frightening.
Stephanie thought of Haymitch's words to her under the fireworks. No, they are some things the Capitol can't take, she thought.
"Lana Blackell, the gorgeous temptress of District 2!"
Once more the volume outside suddenly blared back into the dark room, startling them all.
Lana took a moment to compose herself before she rose and flicking her shoulder length hair started to ascend the stairs, her hips swaying cocooned in silver sequins.
Stephanie briefly heard the crowds greeting and her eyes widened slightly as she could have sworn she heard one man's voice shout out a marriage proposal to the District 2 girl, but then the sound was muted out again.
The Capitol people were overly interested in Stephanie's love life. But at least they didn't want to be my love life! Stephanie thought.
The nervous chit-chatting started up again. Stephanie glanced over at Har. He was the only thing that stood between her and Flickerman now.
Har ran a hand through his jet black hair, casually slumping against the wall, not in the least interested in his surroundings. Stephanie frowned. She couldn't figure him out, though granted she barely knew him. He seemed so completely bored with the whole thing and yet Stephanie could vaguely recall Isa making a comment about all the District 1 & 2 tributes being volunteers this year. Why volunteer at all? Stephanie thought. He looked to be 18. This could have been his last year. Like mine too, her mind added bitterly.
Stephanie turned away. She shouldn't be wasting her time trying to work out the motives of Career tributes for volunteering. The high chance of victory, the fame, the glory…take your pick, what did it matter?
Stephanie glanced down the room. She looked in somewhat surprise as the girl with the flame red hair paced a small grove before her bench, back and forth under the insistence of her District partner.
He was flustered and looked annoyed but he still patiently instructed his district partner to walk to and fro and offered her quiet encouragement when she stumbled.
Stephanie watched for a few moments, amazed by the show of…friendship? Or something like it. He was helping her because…she was from his district? They were friends? He was older? Whatever it was, it warmed Stephanie's heart and for a moment she didn't feel so nervous anymore.
"Har Newton from District 2!"
Stephanie inhaled sharply. She hadn't noticed the time go by.
Har stood silently and climbed the stairs without hesitation or comment. Stephanie watched him disappear with a feeling of dread settling in her stomach. She may have combated some of her nerves but it in no way made her any keener for her interview.
She was next.
…
(Seneca's POV)
The woman almost jumped ten foot in the air when she saw him approaching.
She rushed to meet him, trying to smooth down her smart, white uniform with the Capitol insignia on the front at the same time.
"Mr Crane, it is a pleasure to have you here Sir." The woman addressed him, her voice just a little too high-pitched to be comfortable. "We were not expecting you," she added in a worrisome tone, glancing at the clipboard she clutched desperately in her hands as if to reassure herself that she had not made such a mistake as to forget that the Head Gamemaker and President Snow's son was going to visit today.
Seneca glanced about the control room. It was like a smaller version of the control room of the Games, more or less.
The aim of this room was to control the cameras and edit footage for making videos. They weren't directly involved in the Games but they were involved in the lead-up to it; footage of the Reapings, Chariot Rides…Interviews with Caesar Flickerman.
"No, I thought I would just call by, see that everything is running smoothly…Airco," Seneca replied with his most charming smile, as he discreetly read the name of her identification pass.
The woman faltered a moment, glancing about her.
Her colleagues were too engrossed in pretending to work diligently.
"And do you think you can win, Har?"
The boy on screen cocked an eyebrow, a smug smirk pulling at his lips. "I don't think Caesar…" And here he turned to the audience for dramatic effect, "I know."
The interviews continued, projected on the huge screen that claimed the full wall at one end.
Seneca brushed by the woman Airco, who opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again, flushing red in embarrassment.
She lamely followed after Seneca as he approached the nearest monitors that were currently concentrating on the interviews.
"Sir, is there anything I can help you with?" Airco asked meekly, now holding onto the clipboard in her arms as though her life depended on her, her pearly blue skin not at all helping the sickly complexion she was now wearing.
Seneca ignored her, as he concentrated on the smaller screens at the individual work stations.
Flickerman was drawing the current interview with the District 2 boy Har to a close.
The workers at the individual stations sat up straighter in their chairs, too terrified to turn and look at who they knew stood behind them.
"Well thank-you Har for being a wonderful interviewee…," Caesar was ending the interview.
Seneca tensed and let out a measured breath.
He knew he shouldn't be here.
Everyone had their jobs in the Capitol. How many times had his father told him that? He was Head Gamemaker in charge of the arenas; designing them and how the tributes would die, making sure that the Games were bigger and better than the year before. Airco behind him was in charge of this; the videos that promoted the tributes, capturing the Reapings, Chariot Rides, every interview.
No, Seneca shouldn't be here. He was treading on dangerous ground.
Seneca approached the nearest chair that seated a pink-haired woman who was currently feigning absolute interest in wide shots of cheering Capitol audiences, as Har left the stage.
Seneca gripped the back of the chair tightly and only then did the woman look up. She smiled hesitantly at Seneca and then glanced towards her superior Airco, who shook her head vehemently.
"Can I help you, Mr Crane?" the pink haired woman inquired falteringly.
Seneca looked down at her and smiled his best smile.
"Yes dear, if you wouldn't mind moving – now," Seneca answered her.
The woman immediately sprang from her seat as though she had sat on hot coals, rushing past Airco as she mouthed 'sorry'.
Seneca immediately took a seat, glancing to the screen. Flickerman was building them up for the next interview.
"Now this lady has stirred up quite the scandal…"
"Mr Crane, I'm afraid I really must ask you to…to l…leave…" Airco stood to the side of his chair, her blue eyes wide and the lights giving her bluish skin an almost luminous quality.
Seneca glanced up at her, letting the easy smile slide from his face and a more menacing look to replace it.
Airco's bottom lip trembled as she struggled to hold her ground.
"I'd strongly advise you to overlook this," Seneca spoke low, the insinuated threat evident.
Airco readjusted her grip on the clipboard staring hopelessly down at whatever was on it and then back up at Seneca.
She nodded almost imperceptibly and Seneca relaxed a little.
Airco started to walk dejectedly off, her shoulders tense.
"I need a direct line to Flickerman," Seneca demanded.
Airco's head snapped around to look at him with wide eyes. "Now?!" she exclaimed. "But he is doing interviews."
Seneca narrowed his gaze. "I know he wears an earpiece," Seneca stated.
"Yes for cues and the such, but to suddenly bombard him with…with…It would surely disrupt the fluidity of the interviews," Airco floundered.
"Now," Seneca enforced, turning back to the screen.
"The Scandalous Stephanie Trindlesworth of District 3!"