.
COACHING
"Child, you simply must stand straighter than that!"
Cool fingers close over Rapunzel's shoulders, and her mentor's thumbs press into her back, firmly adjusting her posture. Rapunzel can feel the sharp edges of her nails aganist her skin. Her mentor has been nothing but bright and encouraging, but something about her still makes Rapunzel's stomach turn over nervously, despite the woman's frothy Capitol hairstyle and elegant gowns. Rapunzel has seen her attending the reaping every year since she was a little girl, in her capacity as past Victor, but somehow Maia never seems to look any older. Maybe she got the name of Caesar Flickerman's plastic surgeon while they were setting up for her victory interview?
Biting her lip, Rapunzel pushes her shoulders back and tries to arch her neck gracefully, the way Maia does. She will not wobble on her high heels. She will not.
Her mentor tsks, pacing around Rapunzel with her dark curls floating after her like a thundercloud. She looks her up and down with a critical frown creasing the smooth skin between her brows. Then - just when Rapunzel is on the verge of desperately asking her what more she needs to do - Maia relaxes and smiles.
"Much better. You look lovely, dear. That hair!" She reaches out one long-nailed hand to run her fingers through Rapunzel's thick tresses, and affects a sigh of delight. "They've done wonders with those nasty tangles. You'll be a regular angel of death in the Arena."
Rapunzel does not close her eyes or flinch, but she can't help remembering the whispers she heard sometimes at the reapings, about how those fingers clenched around a long knife won Maia's game for her, one tribute at a time in the dark of the night.
It isn't her fault, Rapunzel reminds herself. They threw her into the arena, and she only did what every victor does. Rapunzel is the strange one here, not Maia.
Her mentor is still combing her fingers gently through her loose hair. "Nobody really worries about a middling training score, you know," she purrs. "We shouldn't have any trouble finding you sponsors...provided of course you do well in your interviews, which shouldn't be too difficult, even for a skinny little thing from the middle of nowhere!" She lets out a trill of laughter at the look on Rapunzel's face. "Darling, I'm joking! You'll be delightful. Caesar can make anyone look erudite, bless his heart. We just need to find you an angle, something that covers up the rough spots and makes your talents shine."
Rapunzel swallows hard. Maia is her mentor, after all. Surely she's trying to be kind? "I'll do my best," she promises, and she means the interview, so this time it isn't a lie.