N/A- Hey everyone! Happy Spring break! (And Easter) Sorry I haven't been updating a lot, I'm trying to write whenever I can.
Please review! It means so much! You guys are the best!
xoxo-FinnickandAnnieForever
Chapter 6- Be Careful with What you Say
Annie's P.O.V
The last two days have me rung out like a towel. Between training from morning 'till night and trying to fit in a suitable amount of sleep, I barely have the energy to eat. Thank goodness Finnick is there, keeping me sane and all. Without him, I don't know where I'd be. Last night, I had a nightmare so powerful, that I had to sneak down the hallway to feel his arms wrapped around me. My brain has been going crazy, and I'm starting to scare myself. It's like I have no control of my thoughts anymore.
They are already changing you, I think to myself. Soon, you'll turn to morphine like those freaks from 5 and 6.
If I even make it out alive, I counter back. Which I won't.
"Chin up sweetie," one of Camilia's assistants says as he forces my chin upward.
I snap back into reality and lift my head slightly, letting him dust the shimmering powder across my cheekbones.
I've been sitting here like a rag doll for the last two hours. These three little people have been altering my skin, perfecting every angle, and pricking away at my hair as if I was their toy. They should be done by now right? I've already been through the interview preparations with Finnick. The strangest part is that I don't feel any swarm of nerves. Maybe that's because half of the preparations session was consumed by Finnick calming me down. That's what he's best at, keeping me calm.
You'll never see him again, a silent thought flashes across my mind.
Why is my mind turning against me already? If I keep going on like this, I might as well start ordering all the morphine I can get.
You weakling, my mind snaps back. You would turn to that drug with Finnick working so hard for you? He deserves better.
SHUTUP! I yell back. My hands clench into fists and my body goes rigid.
One of the assistant stylists works at unclenching my fingers so that they can paint another coat onto them. They might be telling me something, but my heartbeat is too loud to hear them. I try to regain control of myself, to stop my thoughts from working against me. I close my eyes hard, probably ruining whatever makeup they've done to my lids, and shut out the world. I think of Finnick, our safe haven, the many patterns of knots, the sound of my father's wheelchair echoing through the household, the feeling of sun baking into my back as Finnick teaches me to swim. Home.
And suddenly, no more thoughts threaten to come. I have gained control of my own mind again. Silence. I relax, letting my fingers reach out again, and open my eyes. I find three very unhappy stylists glaring at me.
"You ruined my nails!" one of them screeches from behind me as she picks up my hand.
"And my eyes!" the man mutters angrily.
"What was that?"
I stare at them blankly, wondering myself what had happened. "Sorry, I guess I dozed off and had a…nightmare."
The woman working on my nails turns to me with curiosity, "You need more sleep."
The two others nod in unison behind her. Of course I need sleep. This is sort of obvious, but I widen my eyes and nod along with them as if this is new information. Then, as if nothing happened, they go back to work on my face, hands, legs, hair, everything. With this newly found peace inside my head, I sway into sleep at some points, only to be awoken by another hair follicle being ripped out from its place. I wonder if Demere is going through the same torture I am.
He's been acting strange lately. Quite protective in a way that only Finnick would try to be. When the Careers glared at us in the training center, he would glare right back and put a gentle hand at my waist. It's as if Demere has been guarding me from them, as if he cares about my well-being. I try not to feel the same way towards him, though. Soon, we will be thrown into an arena to fight to the death. What happens then? Do we skip into the sunset and pretend that the blood doesn't stain our shoes? We will be slapped with the inevitable, and obligated to deal with it. I can't go through that and win for Finnick if we are anything farther than acquaintances.
Maybe he's tricking me. Maybe Demere has been playing me this whole time. Maybe it's all an act. It does seem strange; he joined in alliance with the Careers, they denied my partnership, and he leaves with me. Who in their right mind would leave a tight alliance with the Careers just to make a weak one with me? Maybe that's it. Maybe he never left the alliance and he's just been trying to gain my trust. Demere? Little innocent Demere would never do such a thing. The boy's only sixteen, and with me two years ahead, he wouldn't dare try to accomplish such a risky move. That's what he wants me to think. Don't write him off as weak, Annie. He's already playing the Game, the silky voice says in my head again.
"Finally," one of the stylists says from the side of me.
They all gather in a line in front of me, looking at their masterpiece.
"Stand up and turn around for us," she orders.
I do as she says, pleasing all of them as my new silver toenails make contact with the floor. I stand slowly, and turn. Their reaction makes me giggle; they squeal with pleasure. I've never heard them be so content with me. The man even claps slightly as my hair comes into full view. As I turn my head to see the reflection in the mirror, the littlest one grabs my chin.
"No, no. Don't look until you have the dress on silly."
I look down at her small frame and smile slightly, "Where is Camilia?"
The door behind us opens suddenly, and out comes my head stylist. Her straight blue hair has been tightly pulled back to a ponytail, but other than that, nothing has changed. Her tight black uniform is still perfectly tailored to her body, and her cheekbones still stand high on her oval purple face.
"I'm right here, and just in time I see," Camilia says as she walks towards me immediately. She strokes my cheek with a tender finger, as if admiring the work her assistants had done.
She gives an approving nod, "The hair turned out perfect, as did the shimmering powder." She turns to her team and smiles big, "Congratulations! This is some of your best work. Go and celebrate."
The pleasure on all of their faces make me smile as well. It's as if the only goal in life they want to accomplish was getting Camilia's approval. They leave, still squealing with delight.
"They told me I couldn't look," I say as they shut the door.
Camilia smiles and grabs a black bag hanging by a hanger, "And they were right. You cannot see a painting until it is completely finished. Now close your eyes and lift your hands."
I do as she says, and feel a silky fabric slip on over my shoulders. Then, another heavier layer is put on over that. I keep my eyes closed.
I can feel her straightening the bottom of the dress and dusting some more powder onto my shoulders, "You know, we are still going with the pearl theme. Even this powder is made up of crushed pearls to give it that shimmer in the light."
"Why did you go with pearls?" I ask.
"Because, on the outside, an oyster is so ugly. It's undesirable, and a mystery. Then suddenly, you find a pearl! I guess it symbolizes that there is always beauty in everybody. You just have to find their pearl," she finishes her dusting and taps my nose with her finger. "Like you, my dear. Open your eyes."
I open them and look at the person in the mirror. No, this couldn't be me, could it? A long silver dress drapes to the floor. It shimmers every time I breathe. Outlining the bottom and top of it are small pearls. My skin has been transformed into an array of dim stars. Dusted everywhere are the crushed pearls that glisten off my skin like the moon reflecting off the sea. My eyes give off the same affect. Pearls of different sizes are scattered across the top of my head, and trail downward with the fresh curls that cascade down to my waist. This is not Annie Cresta. This is someone different looking back at me.
"Who is this?" I ask silently.
I can see Camilia smile in the mirror, "It's you."
She says some more things, but my heartbeat once again overpowers my hearing sense. She lightly pushes me from the middle of my back and leads me down the hallway. I stare blindly forward, my nerves washing through my mind like a tidal wave at the last minute.
"…and I must wish you good luck, my dear," Camilia's voice finally breaks through.
I turn to her, "Thank you for everything."
She nods, "Of course my little pearl."
She walks back down the hallway, leaving me stranded. I hear muffled voices and walk towards them, my fingers knotting themselves together with nerves. I finally make my way to the line of tributes awaiting their interview. Only few are talking, most just glare ahead of them. I can't find Demere, which sort of sets me off balance, but I make it to my spot in line anyway. The District 3 boy stands in front of me, his LED lighted suit blinding my eyes.
"You know if we get enough of us, we will be just as strong as them, Larissa," I hear him whisper from behind me. My ears strain to hear more.
"There…not enough…need…more." I can only make out so much from where I stand. Larissa, the District 3 tribute I assume, responds quickly and much more quietly than does her district partner.
"We will gain more people once we get in that Arena, I promise," he's begging her now.
"Argo, you… quiet…together…one of us…victors." I give up on listening in anymore. Her quiet words are too few to make sense of now.
Curiosity still lingers in my mind, though. Are these two making a large alliance? And who is this "them" that the will be just as strong as? Probably the careers. They honestly think they can conjure up an alliance that has a chance at beating out the Careers. The boy, Argo, is more hopeful than she is. More like she is smarter than him. The girl, Larissa, is right. They will never have enough people to compete with the Careers.
"Annie," a low voice says from behind me. I turn my head to find Finnick, and my heart instantly flutters. He motions me to follow him, and I do. We walk down the hallway, and he grabs my wrist suddenly. He kicks a door from the right open, and pulls me inside. A dim light illuminates the small space.
"Finnick, I haven't been able to see-"
He silences me with a kiss. It starts out light, bringing little fireworks dancing into the corners of my vision. Then, it deepens. His hands slip to my back and presses me against him. There is no space between us. We are one. We could stay like this forever, our hearts beating in perfect unison, but he breaks away, leaving our foreheads pressed together.
"I just needed to do that before you went up there, Annie," he says after a while. He pushes a curled strand of hair behind my ear, and smiles.
"I'm so scared," I say like a child, and burrow into his arms.
"Now, why would you be scared?" he starts, smoothing my back with his palm, "How could anybody hate you? I don't see how that's a possibility."
"What if I say the wrong thing?" I mutter.
"Don't you worry about a thing, okay? You'll be fine."
"You have to say that."
"And why do I have to do that?" he asks, lifting my chin up to meet his eyes.
"Because you're my Finnick." I say with a smile.
He kisses the tip of my nose, "Correct. I am yours," he leans in to whisper into my ear, "forever."
"Can I just stay here with you?"
"Don't be silly, Annie. I would love for that to be possible, but look at you. I don't want such a beautiful masterpiece to go to waste."
I blush lightly and hit him playfully in the arm, "Stop being so charming."
He opens the door, and we walk back to the line. A few stare at us, curiosity seeping through their glances. I take my spot back in line, and give a friendly smile to Demere. He looks nervous. I'm not the one to judge though, I probably look nervous too.
Finnick looks at both of us, "Good luck out there you two. Just be yourselves."
We both nod in thanks. And with a turn of his heels, Finnick leaves us.
I look at Demere and smile politely, "We can do this."
He smiles back, "Well, at least you can."
And the show begins. Caesar is in his star patterned suit. His eyes, lips, and hair have been dyed a powder pink shade for this year. He starts with the same words he always does and the District 1 girl, Jewel, practically skips on the stage. Her fiery red hair goes well in contrast to her gold dress. Then comes her tribute partner, Mars, and the District 2 tributes, Isis and Lucius. They don't show any sign of nerves and charm the Capitol with only a few words. I don't know how I will be able to compete with any of that, but I don't show any sign of doubt as Argo steps onto the stage.
I'm next, I think to myself. My turn.
Argo's timer dings and he is escorted off of the stage. One of the assistants leads me up.
"And now, mentored by our beloved Finnick Odair, the District 4 female tribute Annabeth Cresta!"
For some reason, the crowd roars louder than for any other tribute. I guess Finnick's name got them excited. And as I step on the stage, the large spotlight blinds my vision. A quick moment of silence falls over the audience as they take in my image, and they explode even louder than before. I try to walk in a straight line to Ceaser's pink eyes, and I succeed, thanking the half hour Asteria spent with me to learn how to walk in these death traps. I just make it to Caesar before I slightly trip on the front of my dress, making the audience laugh in response. I sit down on the comfortable couch and cross my legs just how Finnick taught me. My shoulders stretch back as well, my cheeks burning from smiling so long.
The audience soothes down, only a little muffled muttering can be heard. I make eye contact with Camilia and Finnick sitting next to each other in the audience. I relax a little at the sight of them and there reassuring gaze.
Caesar clears his throat, "Annabeth, before I start, do you have another name you go by?"
I giggle, showing off my innocence, "Annie is what everybody at home calls me."
He nods, "Annie it is then. Now Annie, how lucky are you to have the Famous Finnick Odair to mentor you? A million ladies would kill for that position!" The crowd bursts into applause as soon as his name is mentioned.
"Well, I am pretty lucky. I guess that is, if he was actually good," I say between laughter. The camera cuts to Finnick, who does a shocked face into a camera. The audience eats it up.
Caesar plays along, "He isn't a good mentor?"
"No way. He's too much of a pretty boy," I say with a smile.
Another cut to Finnick, who tousles his hair out of his face, nodding in approval. The sound of the audience brings the floor to a slight rumble.
Caesar clears his throat again, and the audience settles down. "But really Annie, what kind of a mentor is our Finnick?"
Just be honest, "He's the best! What more can I say?"
Caesar smiles and looks to Finnick, "Is he a big flirt like he usually is?"
"Let's just say this: if the pig we had for dinner last night was wearing a skirt, Finnick would probably try to get its' number."
Another loud laugh, "Now going into the arena, what kind of things can we expect from you?"
I shrug humbly, "I guess I don't even know the answer to that. We will all have to wait and see."
Caesar chuckles, "A mystery, I like it. Now who do you have watching you back at home?"
"Well, my friend Idelia is over there," I say.
"A certain special someone we should know about?"
I bite my tongue at the urge to spill about Finnick, and I almost do. Thank goodness I make eye contact with him, and ever so slightly, he shakes his head. No, don't do it.
I copy him and shake my head, "Nope, no one on that level of specialty."
"Well I just assumed, because you're so beautiful. I mean look at your dress, your hair. Your stylist must be very proud."
"Oh please, she's amazing. I come in looking like a pile of seaweed, and come out looking like…a pearl. She's the best at what she does."
A light applause is given for Camilia, who beams with pride.
"Now what about your parents, Annie? Are they excited back at home?"
My heart sinks to my stomach, "I-I don't have any."
The audience falls completely silent. "What do you mean?"
I clear my throat as tears threaten to come, "I mean, my parents died. My mother died in child birth and my father died of heart failure."
"Oh my, such a shame my dear. On behalf of the Capitol, we give our most sincere regrets." Caesar's voice really sounds upset, as if he actually cares.
I nod, smiling only a little, "Thank you, thank you everyone."
"And we also hope all of the odds are in your favor tomorrow. Everyone will be watching."
"Thank you," I say with a smile.
"No, thank you."
Then, my timer goes off. The lights are turned away from my face, and Finnick waits for me offstage. Arms open, he envelops me into a hug; the tears silently escaping and staining his shirt.