Chapter 28
My sleepless night ends with someone knocking on my door. I reluctantly slide out from under the covers and open the door to see my prep team equipped with everything they need to get me ready for my final interview. When I walk back into my room, I see that it's only 9:00.
"Why are you here so early?" I ask the team while making the bed.
"Well, the final interview starts at 12:30, so we thought we'd get here a little earlier just to make sure everything is perfect!" Siarrah tells me, excited as can be. Meeka nods in agreement, just as excited as Siarrah. I'm the only one who's not thrilled about this decision.
My team is only two people: Siarrah and Meeka Tommons. Siarrah works with my hair and makeup while Meeka is in charge of perfecting my skin and doing my nails. Typically, a prep team consists of three or four people, but apparently Garry only asked for two people on his team. Garry. The mental image of him kissing me flows back and I try to ignore it but end up asking Siarrah and Meeka questions about him.
"So how long have you guys been working under Garry?"
"Only this year, actually," Siarrah says as she works out the knots in my hair. "You know he's only 20, so it's now permitted for him to work with tributes." 20? His appearance makes him look a lot older.
I don't want to ask if he's single directly, so I beat around the bush a little so I can weed out the answer.
"And he doesn't have any kids right?"
"Oh stop it! No, of course he doesn't!" Siarrah informs me, half laughing. "He's not even married yet, of course he doesn't have kids!"
I'm relieved that he's not married. But then I realize that it doesn't necessarily mean he has no love interests.
"And he's still single, right?"
"Yes," Siarrah says. "You're not considering dating him, are you?"
She's caught me. I was being a bit obvious when I jumped to that question, though.
"What? No! No. No, no, no, no, no. I was just wondering, you know? I mean, I barely know a thing about him."
"I guess that makes sense. Everybody wants to know about amazing designers!"
Meeka nods in agreement again. The two continue working on my look. Siarrah finishes my hair quickly because all she ends up doing is putting loose curls at the bottom of my straight hair. Then, for my makeup, she puts glitter on my eyelids and then puts one flick of mascara on for both eyes. A classic "cover up any blemishes you have," and that's it. Meeka gives me a French manicure on my toenails and fingernails with glittery-silver tips. Finally, I'm put in a white robe and asked to wait for Garry. I'm nervous about him coming in today. It would be like any other day had he not kissed me without explanation. Now I'm just going to trip over my words when he talks to me and act all awkward around him.
I'm sitting at the front of my bed when Garry walks in. I immediately stand up and flatten out my robe. He looks at me as he puts my garment bag down on the chartreuse couch that sits right across my bed. He unzips the bag to check my dress, and I try to fill the awkward void.
"Hi." I manage to say.
"Hey."
I don't know where to go from here. I step over to Garry and lean on the arm of the couch.
"So what am I wearing today?"
"It's a little different than normal," he says, lifting the dress out of its bag. It's a short dress with black Marcella leather around the front as well as around the elbow-length sleeves. However, running down the inner arms and sides of the bodice is a black Ponte fabric that also makes up the back of the skirt. Garry has a shiny black heel for me to wear with it.
I let out an "Oh" while staring at the dress and Garry immediately reacts.
"You don't like it, do you?" he asks, beginning to hold the dress back a little.
"No, I do. It's just a… it's not as soft as the other dresses I've worn."
"Yeah," he replies with a nod of agreement. "I know District 5 is power, so, instead of going with the literal meaning, I decided to go with powerful, I think."
"Well it does make a statement."
I put on the dress and the shoes in the bathroom. I come out and give a little twirl for Garry.
"You look great," he says to me. My mind instantly goes back to Billee, on the day of the chariot ride, telling me I looked beautiful. I snap back to reality and know I have to put this whole love thing to an end.
"Garry, I can't do this," is how I start, with my voice already shaking. "You might be in love with me, but you don't just go up to someone and kiss them, it's not right." He's just staring at me, so I continue.
"And every time you're in the room you just bring up another bad memory and I just—I can't anymore." Here's when the tears start. The tears always start. Why do I cry so much?
"You know what? Maybe I would have liked that kiss a little if it didn't keep me up all night. I'm so tired right now and that's all because of you so thank yourself for that one." Garry starts laughing at me.
"Why are you laughing, it's not funny!" I snap at him, still crying.
"Because you're ruining your makeup," he says. He walks towards with his left hand raised so he can fix whatever makeup I've ruined. I hold my hand up to block him.
"No, stop. I'm fine," I say and quickly turn around. I walk into the bathroom, my heels clicking with each step. In the mirror I see that whatever cover up Siarrah had put on is streaking ever so slightly. I take a tissue and blot the tears that are still wet on my face and sloppily rub the rest of the makeup in an attempt to blend it. My attempt doesn't work and I just look stupid.
"Come here, I can fix it," Garry says. He's standing in the bathroom doorway. I walk to him and he leads me back to the chartreuse couch where he takes out an emergency makeup kit. I sit down on the right side of the couch and he sits on the left, reapplying makeup to my skin.
I hate him sitting so close to me. I don't want him to like me in any way. I just want to be done with this; I want to be back home.
"There," he says, closing the cover up container. "All done." He takes out a small mirror and gives it to me. I look at my reflection and am stunned at how beautiful I look. He does a hell of a lot better than Siarrah. I don't know why he doesn't just do my makeup.
"Thank you." I return the mirror and he looks back up at me, his eyes meeting mine. I've never noticed how grey his eyes are. It's like all the life and joy has been sucked out of him, leaving him a decrepit, hollow person. Before I know it, Garry's lips are pressed against mine. I don't even react though. Well, maybe I do, because I'm kissing him back just the same. And there we are, for a good minute, kissing. I feel his hand touch my face and I jerk back. He looks at me, probably wondering where he went wrong.
"I'm sorry." I say quickly.
"No it's fine. We should probably get going anyway." Garry says to me. We both stand up and go to the floor's elevator. On the ride down to the main floor, Garry holds my hand, and I'm too awkward to prevent him from doing so. He lets my hand go when the elevator door opens. We walk through the lobby and then are escorted by a cameraman to the set of the final interview, which is in a room somewhere behind the Training Center. There's no live audience, just the cameras and a mess of producers and cameramen. And then, of course, there's Charlie and Rootina and Miranda and Garry, who I make eye contact with all the time now. I don't mean to and I try not to, but something always brings me back to him. I don't want to like him but I sort of have to. It's like what my heart wants even though my mind doesn't. Or maybe he's just a distraction from all of what's going on in my life. For now, I'm not sure.
Caesar does some strange breathing exercises with me and gives me a good few laughs before the interview. I guess it's to loosen me up or something, make me comfortable with the questions being asked. However, this only makes me worse because when I realize it's to loosen me up, I just get nervous and anxious to leave. I sit down in a blue armchair next to Caesar's red armchair and listen to one of the cameramen count down backwards from five, signaling the start of the broadcast. Then, the live interview begins, and I'm reminded of everything that happened in the arena. Caesar reviews my thoughts at the countdown, the bloodbath, how many injuries I got, and the works. I'm disconnected though, distracted by what awaits me after I get home. Nothing is going to be the same. I keep imagining going home and forgetting about the Games and about this entire thing, but none of that can ever happen. I'm going back to a home in the Victor's Village, not my old home that I've lived in for all my life. I'm going to the Victory Tour in just a few months to be reminded, once again, of this horrible event we call the Hunger Games. And not only that, but I'll be reunited with Garry, the man I'm tangled in a love story with even though I'm not sure that I love him. All of these things put together prevent me from having one of the amazing final interviews I used to watch on TV. My interview is dry, filled with emptiness and quick responses. At least I look good.
After the interview, I'm taken by my prep team of two to another changing room. This time, they wash me from head to toe and make sure I look perfect for the victor's banquet. It's an extravagant array of food and drinks and dancing held at the presidential palace. I'm barely excited, but it means that I'm closer to leaving this place, so I try to have hope. My final dress is a full-length gown with a solid bodice made of little gold leaves and a champagne colored skirt that falls straight down to the floor. I put on four inch gold heels that you can't even see with how long the dress is. Garry gives me two gold bangles that I put on my left hand. My hair is made into a more fashionable fishtail braid, similar to the one I wore in the arena. This process, although seemingly short, takes hours to complete. At around six o'clock, an escort takes me in a car that drives me to the presidential palace. Once there, I'm walked in by Miranda, who's wearing a sparkling silver dress.
The entire palace is used for the party, although I don't see President Snow the whole time I'm there. I pretend Miranda is my best friend and follow her around. She accepts this as an opportunity to introduce me to nearly everyone at the banquet. I guess this is a sort of valued thing, being known by the victor of the Hunger Games, so Miranda has no problem holding my arm and saying hello to her Capitol friends while I'm at her side. All I have to do is say hello and yes or no here and there, but I don't mind it because I'm avoiding almost all forms of socialization.
At one point, we bump into Charlie and Rootina, who decide to take me away from Miranda. I get nervous again, especially because the two of them still definitely hate me and would rather have Billee walking with them. But, I catch a glimpse of Siarrah and Meeka and Garry, so I excuse myself from my group and run over to them. They take me to the numerous tables of food and we all eat together. I take a small serving of everything on one table but ultimately return for seconds of the stir-fry at the beginning of the table. After eating and eating and eating, Meeka taps my shoulder and offers me a martini glass filled with a neon purple drink. I refuse but she takes one for herself and drags me to the bathroom.
We walk into the bathroom together and she goes into a stall alone. I hear her gulp down the drink and see her put the martini glass on the floor. Then, I hear her vomit into the toilet, and I'm confused. Did she eat something bad? I hope it wasn't the stir-fry.
When she gets out of the stall and washes her hands and lips, I ask her if she's okay.
"I'm fine," she says to me, pumping soap into her hands. "I just want more food, that's all."
I piece it together and then ask Meeka with a bit of concern:
"Did you make yourself throw up?"
"Well yeah." She says to me, shaking some of the water off her hands into the sink. She stands there looking at me for a second with her hands still dangling over the sink, and then she realizes something.
"You've never had the drink before, have you?" she asks. The purple drink? No, never. I shake my head no in response.
"Oh, well no wonder you were giving me that look!" she says, walking over to get one of the folded up hand towels. "It makes you throw up so you can eat more," she explains to me. "I know it's always a little scary your first time, but you should try it," she says before walking out of the bathroom. I stand there for a moment and consider it. No, you shouldn't my mind tells me. But then I do it anyway. I leave the bathroom, grab the drink, and walk back into the bathroom. I claim the stall next to the one Meeka used and take one big sip of the drink. It's cold and minty. It actually tastes a little good. I start to down the rest of my glass but the drink has already begun working its effects. I drop the glass and it shatters on the floor while I vomit into the toilet. Everything that I ate just before is now out. I flush and wipe up any vomit that got on the toilet seat. Then, I wash my hands and lips just as Meeka had done, and I leave the bathroom.
I start to feel even worse now that I've made myself throw up. My stomach begins to hurt even though there's nothing left inside of me. Maybe I'm just hungry. I grab a cookie from the dessert table and then find a cup of water from somewhere and gulp it down. As I finish my cookie, President Snow appears on his balcony with a spotlight shining on him. He makes a speech about this year's Games and then he invites me up there with him to receive my crown. I walk up a rounded flight of stairs to the balcony, and he takes a crown from an ornate, silver and white pillow and places it on my head.
"You look very lovely this evening, Miss Copperwood," he says quietly to me.
"As do you." I tell him. He laughs with his mouth closed. Something about the look in his eye and his thin, deceitful lips reminds me of a snake. This is his entire fault. He's the reason I've suffered this. He's been the one enforcing the Games and making them as popular as they are. In a single moment, I hate this man.
After my crowning, I return to Meeka and Siarrah and Garry. They're all eating dessert, and when they ask me to join them, I tell them I'm still full from dinner. This is an outright lie, but I want to avoid eating. I keep thinking about the purple drink and it's making me sick.
In an hour, Miranda tells me the train is ready and that I should start saying my goodbyes to the people at the party. I don't really remember anyone here that Miranda introduced me to, so I just make my way to the front of the palace and say bye to random people who look nice along the way. Then, I'm whisked away by the same escort from before to the train station where Miranda is already waiting for me. She takes my hand and leads me to our train, which looks exactly like the one we took to the Capitol after the reaping. Inside, I see that Charlie, Rootina, Siarrah, Meeka, and Garry have also made it here as well. Charlie pours us all glasses of champagne.
"To a good Hunger Games!" Charlie bellows. Everyone holds up his or her glasses and I follow suit, even though I don't want to cheer to this subject. We all drink our champagne and then return to our rooms to get changed.
I strip out of my dress and find that they've left a little bag containing the dress I wore at the reaping. There's also a set of pajamas and day clothes for the train. I put on my pajamas- a white sweater and comfortable gray sweatpants- and then wash the makeup off my face. As I'm drying my face off, Siarrah knocks at my door and tells me they're airing the interview I had today. I leave my room and join everyone to watch it.
Watching yourself on TV is not an easy task. It's uncomfortable and strange and it makes you feel self-conscious. But, I watch anyway, for the sake of socialization.
The interview goes smoother than I had previously thought. While watching, though, I notice they never mention my suicide attempt. They didn't even mention it during the recap interview. I start to wonder if they even showed it at all. Maybe it was seen as too sensitive for the viewers. I want to know if they aired it during the Games, but at the same time if I ask someone when they didn't air it at all, everyone will be on my case about trying to commit suicide and how bad it is. I end up keeping it to myself.
By the end of the interview, I'm exhausted and hungry. I excuse myself from the group and pass out on my bed, not even making it under the covers. In the middle of the night I wake up to my stomach growling. I sneak into the kitchen and take a scone, picking pieces off of it and eating it slowly. Then, I take a cup of water and return to my room. I fall asleep quickly again, but this time under my covers.