At that moment, I was glad that the lavender foam was covering me from head to toe, but I still felt exposed. He handed me a towel, still convulsing in fits of laughter. I blushed beetroot red, and wrapped the towel tightly around me, but he showed no signs of leaving.
"I was going to wait here until you finished your shower, and give you some tips, but I see you are having the same troubles as I had the first time I used a Capitol shower!" He finally gained enough composure to speak, and then he said something that made my blood run cold, "Oh yeah, don't worry, the showers in the Training Centre have much more options, that was the simplest model. That shower is the closest Capitol citizens get to poverty!"
He grinned and winked at me as he walked out, leaving me to get dressed in peace. I tried to brush my golden hair, giving up after I realised the lavender stuff had fused into my hair. Oh well, I'll let my prep team worry about that. I opened the clothing drawer, unwilling to spoil my beautiful silk dress. I put on the only thing that wasn't blue or covered in fishes. It was an emerald vest top, with jet black jewels adorning the neckline, and a short white skirt which stuck out slightly.
"Come on kiddo!" Den bounced into my bedroom just as I was painting iridescent green powder on my eyes, with a thick black line running around the rims of my eyes, making them look huge and even bluer than they usually were.
"We're almost at the Capitol now!" He bounded around the room while I wondered how much coffee he had had.
"Umm, Den?" I hesitantly spoke up, "Is it compulsory for 1, 2 and 4 to go for training as soon as they arrive, or is it optional?"
"Of course it is optional," Den started, "But it is a tradition that the best fighters gather…" He trailed of while looking at my small frame, heavily made up face, and soft frills and jewels on my clothes.
"No, dear, of course you don't have to." He tugged at his collar, which was too tight as usual. He always wore shirts that seemed at least two sizes too small, and trousers that left NOTHING to the imagination.
"Can I meet my stylist instead?" I tentatively asked, just reinforcing the idea that I was weak and girly. I had no idea about clothes, and my reaping dress was the only piece of material that I truly loved. I planned to try and use the strategy that Johanna Mason used. Appear silly and defenceless, but come out viciously at the end. I already knew I could use a morning star pretty well. A morning star is a lethal combination of a long slender metal rod, with a strong chain attached to one end, topped off with a ball of steel, covered in large spikes. You can spin it and bludgeon someone to death, or crush their windpipe with the chain; you can even beat them with the metal rod.
My train of thought was abruptly cut short as a strong hand pushed me against the window and made me bask in the glory of the Capitol.
I had to squeeze my eyes shut as the bright colours dazzled me, and I blinked rapidly until my eyes had adjusted to the high levels of light.
"Hey, why aren't you with Martin?" I puzzled, he seemed much more serious about the games than me.
"He's still quite angry…" Den seemed to deflate, both from the news that I wasn't going to be a career, and the fact that his precious fighter didn't want to know.
"Umm, can I still have Finnick for my mentor?" I blushed the same colour of the coral in my district as I put this forward, but I was scared that Den was going to give him to Martin, the only one of use who seemed to be taking this seriously.
"Of course dear," Den started ruffling my hair but immediately stopped when he realised how crusted and sticky it was, "Umm, I don't think it would be a bad idea to introduce you to your stylist after all. And maybe…your prep team?" His words had heavy undertones that were obviously saying, 'your hair is disgusting'. Oh, how polite.
I found some black heels that were encrusted with the same type of jewel as the top and stepped off the train to be met with huge roars of approval. It seemed not many tributes cared about how they looked when they arrived at the Capitol. I managed to stuff my dress into a white handbag with emerald details before being herded out of the train. I vaguely remember Finnick telling me to wave, and it was all I could do to obey.
I moved one of my arms up and wiggled the forearm about, showing off my perfectly shaped and manicured nails. When did that happen? Oh well, I always thought waving seemed stupid, how could moving your arm about an absurd amount possibly convey some sort of meaning? Martin had switched back to snuffly mode, and barely seemed to notice the crowd, hanging onto Mags instead. Maybe he made it up with his Mentor? Oh, maybe not, I could see on Mags face how surprised she was, even though she did well to conceal it. The rest of the journey passed in a blur, and I only started paying attention again when I was plonked down in front of my stylist, Ferrero, an exotic man with dark skin and surprisingly light hair.
"So, I hear you turned down extra training to meet me?" His eyebrows twisted around into a puzzled expression, making the nest of snakes tattooed around the right side of his face writhe as if they were alive. "Celina?" Oops, he must have noticed me staring at his bold tattoo.
"Yeah, sorry, just a bit dazed, that's all," I shook my head, and calmed myself by imagining I was shaking droplets of sea water from the ends of my hair. Oh, that reminded me, "Can I meet my prep team, the shower on the train got the better of me." I smiled ruefully, holding up a lock of my crusty lavender coloured hair.
"Of course dear," Ferrero guided me through a maze of rooms, and I swear I saw the snake tattoo moving a couple of times, I'll ask him about that later. "Here they are!" I was genuinely shocked by the appearance of my prep team. I knew Capitol people had crazy fashion trends, but the people in front of me just looked absurd.
"This is Kitty," My stylist gestured to a plump woman with jewels implanted all over her body, even in her eyes, "She will be in charge of your nails and make-up. And Mando," He indicated a huge beast of a man, dressed in a sharp suit, with a single earring in one of his ears, normal apart from the fact his skin was bright pink, "will be making your body ready, so making your skin smooth and hairless. Oh, and…"
"Hello," A small man purred, interrupting Ferrero, extending his long fingers, which had a huge amount of rings on, in fact, his whole body looked like it would collapse under the weight of all the metal he had draped on it, "I'm Candera, I will make sure your hair looks gorgeous all the time. I think we should get started right away. Ferrero, please could you leave us to get started, we will need at least 7 hours."
My eyes must have exhibited such horror that my stylist collapsed into a chair, laughing his head off, causing the curious snakes to wriggle around so much, that I was positively dizzy by the time he left.
"Now dear, we are going to wash your hair now, so close your eyes." Candera pushed me into a chair and blasted my hair with water. Oh, it seems the powder hasn't lost its growing ability if the shrieks of my prep team are anything to go by.
Long fingers eventually found my head and massaged some sort of vile smelling sludge into my hair, immediately making the powder recede, and dissolve from my hair.
"Oh darling, why ever did you use the lavender dye? And leave it on for so long? Look!" My eyes were forced open and I saw a monster before me. The shiny golden locks were gone, and instead dank, straight sickly purple rats tails hung around my face.
"Make it gold again!" I practically screamed at Candera, forgetting my girly demeanor for a second
"Of course darling, I saw what colour your hair was at the reapings, we can colour match it with smart dye, which is computer programmed."
He squirted grey sludge on my head, which rippled until it covered my hair like a shield, and I noticed Candera fiddling around on an electronic tablet, which changed my hair colour back to its flowing, gorgeous original state.
I leapt up and hugged my hair stylist, sat back down, and prepared myself for the inevitable onslaught of wax and foams.