Alright, I am bored to tears, so I need to write something. I hope that all of you will enjoy this chapter. I think that it's going to be a little bland, but I am going to have some quality moments between some characters. We'll see some points of view that we haven't seen before that I think will be very cool. You have to review and tell me what you think though, because without those reviews, I am going to not know what to write next, and odds are it will be pretty crappy when I do get around to doing the next chapter. This chapter is the wedding photo shoot, where Liz will be trying on the dress options and the Capitol people will decide which one she will be wearing. I have the results of the poll that decided the dress, and I am not telling what dress Liz is wearing until she is wearing it on her wedding day. Sorry if you were expecting otherwise. Well, here's the chapter. I hope that everyone will like it. Also, expect a lot of point of view change. I want to give some diversity to what is going on.
Also, I have been asked this, and it made me slightly curious to see if anybody else is confused on this as well. I'm sure that this story is very confusing, and not at all like the original story, but I wanted to say that this story does take place in an alternate universe (AU) somewhat, because for one thing, Cato and Clove and Katniss and Peeta all won the 74th Hunger Games, and both sets had kids that went into the Games, which didn't happen. There will be more things in later chapters (possibly even some if this one) that make this story an alternate universe, and I hope that is alright with all of you. I love what I am doing with the story, but I don't know if all of you feel like that. Please review and tell me what you think.
I am still doing the wedding speech contest, so please send in a speech….there are so many different possibilities to who you could write a speech. Please enter, because I assure you, most of them are going to be used in the actual story, and I will credit you if I do use it.
Ok, here's the end of the authors note, and the beginning of the 51st chapter! Enjoy!
Miklisho POV-
I hold the gun in my hand, twirling it around my finger, looking at the Peacekeeper that I have put my foot on, pressed hard into his chest.
"Where is Snow keeping her?" I ask angrily.
"I-I don't know. Please don't shoot me." He responds.
The first thing I notice is that he's young. A few years younger than me probably. And he's scared. He wears the helmet of a normal Peacekeeper, although the hard plastic part is lighter than most of the others I've seen. He's a newbie, and I know it.
I take my foot off his chest, offering my hand to help him back to his feet. He breathes a sigh of relief, and I even hand him back his gun.
"I know you want to see your girlfriend, but I think you'll be seeing her soon enough."
I glance up at him, crossing my arms on my chest. They are a lot thicker than they used to be, thanks to Snow's new medical plan for me. I've gotten stronger, Alice has gotten thinner. Snow is trying to get me to bulk up, and when I don't cooperate, Alice doesn't eat. It's my fault, but she assures me she doesn't mind. Sure….she doesn't mind. But I do. She weighs nearly half as much as me. I'm a monster compared to her.
"Man Miklisho, your huge now."
I look up at the young Peacekeeper, and I can't help it as my face turns into a grimace. Like everyone else, he thinks he knows me. Well he doesn't. He knows nothing about me. And he doesn't want to.
"What do you mean now? You don't know anything about me."
He lifts the plastic part of his helmet, revealing blue eyes.
"I know much more then you think."
His deep voice surprises me. He seems way too young looking to have a voice like that.
"Oh yeah? What do you know?"
He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.
"I know you haven't had sex with that little girlfriend of yours, but you screwed over Katrina, Vale, Amber, Gilzira, Jarrica, and tried to get Maryann."
He emphasizes that last little part, about Maryann, extremely, and I wonder why. I'm confused by it. Why is he caring about that? Why does he seem so bitter?
I can't help it when my eyes widen and gape at him. It scares me how much this person knows about me, even though they are a complete stranger. I had hoped that nobody is any sort of authority would know that I had had sex with some of the girl tributes before the Games. That definitely would not be something I would be allowed to do, and it isn't something Snow would be happy over if he found out. What would Snow do if he found out about this? Beat Alice? Starve her? Beat me? Starve me? I hope that he will punish me if he finds out. Alice has been through enough for both of us. I hate that she has become as much responsible for what I do as I am. I am not held accountable for anything she does. Because in Snow's mind, I am the problem, in a place where neither of us are doing anything wrong but trying to stay alive, and stay together. She isn't doing anything wrong. If either of us is, I am. And that is all he will ever see of me.
I realize that I have completely zoned out of my conversation with this mystery Peacekeeper, and I quickly say something, to mask my inattention all this time. I can't see the expression of the boy, but I know that he probably wants a response from me.
"Were you one of the Peacekeepers that were at the training center?" I ask stupidly.
For at least a minute, the boy doesn't move to do anything. He doesn't say a word, he doesn't move, or walk away. I'm thoroughly confused by the time he removes his helmet with a casual "No. I was one of the tributes in those Games."
When he finally gets the helmet off, I know exactly who he is. The red hair gives it away far too easily.
"Shhhh. You can't tell anyone I'm back." He laughs.
Maryann POV-
I wake up in a cold sweat, expecting to see the Arena. My first thought- I'm alive. I survived Michael slamming that rock into my head. I did it. I can still win the Games with Michael. I can do this.
Then I notice the woman in the white lab coat, and when I lift a finger to my head, the slight roughness of something. The woman holds a needle, threaded with black string.
"Welcome back to reality, Ms. Deluna."
The woman gives me a warm smile. A smile I didn't know could be given by a Capitolite. The other strange thing- she has regular looks. She looks like someone who could live in my district. Full red lips, sea green eyes, flowing chestnut brown hair, and long brown eyelashes. She looks like a doctor. And that's what makes me the most surprised.
"Where am I?" I demand.
"The Capitol, darling. The Capitol."
I gape at her, laughing.
"I can't be! I'm in the Hunger Games. I'm going to win."
The woman laughs. "No, no. President Snow said that this might happen. That you might be in a bit of denial."
I sit up, feeling a twinge of pain develop along my hairline. I can't help but wonder why the woman is holding that needle.
"Denial about what? There is nothing to be denied about it! I am in the 88th Hunger Games with my brother Michael, and I am going to win."
The woman throws me an extremely sympathetic look, or at least, what is supposed to be one.
"I understand how this could be hard to grasp, Ms. Deluna, but you died in the Games. Michael did as well. In fact, the very same day that you did. But now you are alive. The Capitol has some new technology that allowed us to bring back some of the….most interesting tributes of the Games…..congratulations. You were considered one of my most interesting."
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling the stiff cotton on the hospital gown I'm wearing.
"Michael isn't dead. He's perfectly alive." The woman assures me.
"I'm not your charity case. Don't make me think that I'm special, or interesting, because I know that if it came down to who was the most interesting in the Games, it would be Liz, Luke, Marcus, and Alice brought back." I hiss.
The woman examines her white nails, rolling her eyes.
"Listen. You can choose to believe it, and find out what is going on, or if you don't want to believe it-"
She points to a bag hanging from a pole, a clear tube leading into my arm.
"I can turn a switch and we can put enough morphling into your system to put you back into your eternal sleep. The choice is yours."
She casually tosses me a look that tells me she isn't joking. I'm no stranger to what morphling does. It's an addictive drug, and it can really hurt someone if given to them in extreme amounts. An overdose, I believe it's called. I don't want morphling in my body at all, but if I need to have it, I am not having enough to kill me. Not willingly.
"What is happening then? Why would Snow bring me back? He doesn't seem like that kind of person to care."
"He doesn't." The woman agrees. "But our scientists do. They wanted to see if they could do it."
The door to the room swings open and I see Miklisho Maccoll standing in the doorway, closely followed by a Peacekeeper that he instantly waves off, and he comes inside.
"Doctor Strauss, may I have a moment alone with Maryann? Maybe I can help her to understand this new….adjustment."
"MIKLISHO! How are you….you died…..I saw your blood on Liz's face….you were a face in the sky. The cannon went off. You were dead."
I am so awestruck by the fact that Miklisho is here that I am barely able to make words. I mean, I can somewhat see how I was brought back. I got hit in the head with a rock. That's easy enough for someone to fix, but Miklisho was stabbed in the throat by Liz…..and she doesn't stab lightly. There had to have been enough blood to stain her face. That isn't the kind of damage someone can just rearrange in an instant. Even if those people are highly trained (at least I figure that they are highly trained) scientists, and from the Capitol.
He smiles at me and sits on the edge of the bed, taking my hand in both of his.
"I know this is strange. But I promise you, I will tell you everything you want to know. Everything. Just please, don't make a huge fuss. He doesn't like it when you make a huge deal about things. Just be calm. No matter what, be calm. Don't talk about Michael at all. No matter what you do, no matter what anyone might say to you, do not speak about him, or bad things are going to happen. To all of us."
I am extremely confused. Miklisho looks at me with pleading eyes, only slightly begging me to not say a word, but at the same time, he knows he needs a response from me. I don't know what to say to him. I'm so entirely confused, and there is nothing I can even think to ask.
"Who do you mean, by he?" I finally get out.
Miklisho closes his eyes and looks at his feet, folded neatly underneath him where he sits.
"President Snow." He answers simply.
"Why are we all here?" I ask.
"The Capitol scientists wanted to see if they could resurrect people from the Games. Imagine how much money they could make if the family and friends of the tributes lost in the Hunger Games could get back their loved ones. They'd be richer than ever before. Although nobody really knows we exist right now."
"So we're just a scam to get money?" I ask, clenching my teeth and looking down at the sheets on the bed.
"No. Not at all. It started out like that, but now we are so much more. We're Capitol citizens. We get to be involved in the population, as Peacekeepers, as spokespeople, as regular people. Things we couldn't do back in our home districts."
"How can we be spokespeople if nobody in any of the districts knows we exist?" I ask him.
I've pretty much gotten over the shyness I originally had. I am filled to the brim with questions, and I intend to ask all of them until I am satisfied and have gotten the answers that I want.
"The news reports are just for Capitol citizens. And no offense to them, but if they told anyone any of this, who would believe them?"
I laugh at that. Cheerful, actually humorous laughter that I haven't used in as long as I can remember. I never had much use for happiness and laughter, but now I let it envelope me. I feel better.
"I wouldn't. But….what's your job, Miklisho?"
"I'm a spokesperson. Snow says the camera just loves me."
He sucks his cheeks in and pushes his lips together, making him look like a fish. It reminds me of home, and makes me laugh even more. He smiles at me, and for one, I just lose all my insecurity, and all my doubt.
"Who else is back?" I ask, already back into my usual professional self.
Miklisho gives me a look of pity, and then takes a deep breath, as though he's preparing me for some major news that is going to make me very upset.
"Alright. There are 3 of us right now. First came me, and then Alice, and now you."
He looks at me again, trying to see what my reaction will be. I don't know what to say. I'm happy to hear that someone evil like Marcus isn't back, but at the same time….where is Michael? If I'm here….surely he has to be too, doesn't he? They wouldn't bring one of us back without the other. They just couldn't. They shouldn't.
"Nobody else?" I ask cautiously.
Miklisho seems to think the answer over a moment, even though only one word is required.
"Is there anyone else?" I repeat.
He still does not speak to me.
"It's an easy question, Miklisho. Are there other dead tributes from our Games that were brought back, or is it just me, you and Alice?"
"No." He replies finally.
I sigh, feeling my body slump down.
I'm not looking at Miklisho, but when I feel something on my shoulder, I know that it is him putting his hand on me.
"Maryann….talk to me. If there is anything I have learned here in my second lifetime, it's that every time someone comes back, it's stressful for them. Sometimes people are in denial over it. We originally had Amber back, but she freaked out so much and wouldn't believe that she had died, so the doctors held her down and put the morphling through her, so she died again. And they will try and bring her back again some other time."
I turn my head, looking into his eyes, which are now a golden brown color. I can still see the yellow around the rim of his eyes.
"Your eyes used to be yellow." I say stupidly.
He nods and smiles at me.
"And my hair used to be white. I used to be thinner then this too. But Snow puts us all on our own plans so that we can be the most useful to him. Mine included getting stronger."
"That doesn't explain why your eyes are changing color and your hair-"
I look at his hair, now longer, shaggier, and a really white blonde color, but I can see that the color is slowly changing, just like Miklisho's eyes.
"It's blonder now. Not so white." I continue.
"I gave up steroids. I finally realized that they weren't doing me any good. Alice and I….we're engaged now. And if I'm ever going to be able to go back to my family, or meet Alice's….I can't be high and on steroids anymore."
I nod, taking another breath and standing up.
"I don't have any more questions." I say to him.
He laughs and smiles again. "Your forgetting the simplest question of all. Both people before you asked it."
I tilt my head to the side. "And what would that be?" I ask.
"Who won the Games if you lost." He states.
Tari POV-
My name is Tari Lore. I have been a stylist for 14 years now, mostly working for the tributes of district 12 after Octavia was reassigned to District 2. I was the first member of Luke Mellark's prep team to say that I thought he would win. Argentina and Algeria were supportive, yes, but then again, they were always far too supportive of every tribute we got unless they were a complete and total loser, which hadn't happened that often.
The thing I did not predict would be that Luke and Elizabeth Hirsch would be getting together, getting married, and going through all of the things that meant being a Victor together. There was a certain amount of restraint a prep team member had to have. A certain balance of emotions that had to be perfected before you allowed a single word to escape your lips. You don't know exactly what thoughts are going through the mind of the tribute you are working with. They could be excited as heck. They could be extremely nervous. They could be getting ready to commit suicide by trying to jump off the roof of the Training Center. You really don't know. But you have to be positive, for their sake.
But there is one thing in common for every tribute I have ever worked to style- they all were unknowing of what to expect. Most of the time they haven't trained, they weren't expecting to be Reaped, and they didn't have much of any skill in them.
Luke Mellark is the first tribute I have worked on that has ever known he was going into the Games, and volunteered. At the time, I thought he was suicidal. But then I started talking to him. I realized that he knew things. How to act like a good tribute. How to show off just enough to get him noticed by the Careers, but not enough to make their leader jealous and want to take him out. He knew how to do things before he even entered the training center for the first day of working. And then I realized it-Luke was different.
And then he won with Liz, and I stopped expecting things, because I didn't know what to expect from the two of them together. I thought Liz would be the other end of the final two that stabbed him in the throat until the two of them kissed after their interviews and said they had been dating for four months.
Now I am sitting in a room with the rest of the prep team members for Luke, as well as Liz's, along with Vilnius, Melody, and Liz. We're at the wedding photo shoot, and Melody is drilling into Liz the importance of looking comfortable, even if the dress she is wearing is ridiculous. The way this shoot works is Liz will put on a dress, go out to the backdrop, and we'll take photos of her. For each dress, we'll take a lot of pictures, from different angles, different lines. We then have to send the pictures to President Snow, who in turn will send them out to the various news stations that need to have the pictures. After that, the reports show the pictures, and the citizens of the Capitol vote on the dress they like the best. And that is the dress that Liz will wear on her wedding day. She doesn't have a choice in the matter whatsoever. And it breaks my heart.
This is her wedding day, and she isn't even controlling what she wears. Everything is being done for her, and I feel terrible for having to tell her to keep her hands off every time I yank on her hair particularly hard. Both stylists and all 6 prep team members are working on her today, since it's a really big deal. Luke is on the other side of the building doing his photos, but they don't matter as much. We pretty much put him there so he wouldn't see the dresses. Even if we live in the Capitol, we stick to the tradition of the groom not seeing the bride's wedding dress until the day of their wedding.
I start brushing Liz's hair again, feeling her tense up and shift her shoulders, trying to get comfortable in this awkward situation.
"Relax, honey." I say, trying to soothe her.
She tries to nod, but then realizes she can't because we're working on her hair. I'm brushing the strands straight, and Algeria is moving her hair into sections that Argentina is curling. All three of us are working on her, and Vilnius is over across the room with Melody, speaking in soft whispers, pointing at the different dress bags, probably deciding which one they want to start with. Liz's prep team members are also working on the other side of Liz's head, pulling her hair one way when we just so happen to be pulling in another. Liz lefts a small sound of discomfort escape her lips.
"It'll be over soon, sweetheart."Norlina adds, rolling her eyes at Flo, who is standing next to her, and who is to blame for everything in Norlina's mind.
I hate these people. I love the people I work with, but Flo and Norlina are two of the most annoying people I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Octavia looks at me, smiling as she rubs Liz's shoulder. She isn't as terrible as Flo and Norlina.
"We're all working at the same time to get you done faster. I promise. Pain is beauty. And you'll look beautiful when we're done…but we'll save the real magic for the real wedding."
Liz gives her a weak smile and looks straight ahead at her reflection in the mirror. I try and make her feel better, sticking my tongue out and crossing my eyes. This succeeds in making her laugh, and then gets Liz a stern scolding from Melody.
"Stay still! No laughing, no smiling, no moving. We have to get you ready, and you aren't making it any easier for us." Melody shrieks.
"Shut the hell up, and we'll all be 50 times better." Algeria yells back at her.
"Both of you, please, this isn't helping." Argentina says softly.
"You can talk?" Flo shouts, her eyes going wide and her lips forming a perfect O.
"I seriously thought you were an Avox." Norlina adds.
"Shut. The hell up!" Argentina shouts, clenching her teeth, and I'm shocked by her level of communication. Usually she barely ever speaks.
"Stop it! Your freaking me out." Liz says, and that silences all of us from out further arguing.
We don't want to make Liz any more stressed out, because we all know that there is some serious stress she is going through at the moment, and none of us need to add to it.
Liz relaxes, taking a deep breath, and all the prep team members' finish on her hair and start on her makeup. I direct Liz to lie back, and then Vilnius directs me to start working on her eyes, which includes eye shadow, eyeliner, plucking her eyebrows and waxing them, drawing some on her eyebrows to make them darker, and mascara. It's going to hurt, and be really hard considering Argentina and Algeria are working on her legs, and are waxing, and Norlina is trying to work on her lips. Does Melody seriously expect Liz to be able to handle all of this at the same time?
Obviously so, because everyone starts working, and Liz holds in every sound from me and the two country twins (Algeria and Argentina) practically ripping her apart.
"Lips still." Norlina commands.
Liz obeys, keeping her lips extremely still while her legs are being waxed. I pluck at her eyebrows a little bit. Algeria and I time it so that we're both pulling at the same time, so it's twice as much done at the same time, and Liz won't move as much. Soon Liz has relaxed herself, and we are all working in harmony.
I can't help but wonder how all of this will turn out. A brave girl, an independent girl, reduced to nothing more than a human mannequin. Is there nothing the Capitol can leave alone?
Luke POV-
I wonder what Liz is doing right now. I know that I am in absolute Heaven. Both prep teams and Vilnius went to help Liz, since she has a lot more to be done, so Haymitch and I are partying. It's technically my unofficial party, but my father has assured me we are doing more when it's really time. Since there are no prep team members or stylists with me, I look like myself. I can only think of how Liz is doing. She hates getting her makeup done, and being controlled is most certainly not something she enjoys, being….well, being her.
"Luke….come on, come and have a drink with us." My dad pipes up.
My father is acting totally unlike himself, offering my liquor galore. But then again, he's had some of his own, and I don't ever disobey my father.
"Peeta, the boy needs to get his pictures done before he drinks anything. Then he can have anything he wants. Ok?" Haymitch says.
Surprisingly, Haymitch is the sober adult here. Cato and my father are about 50% intoxicated now, but they are acting like the best of friends, smiling and hugging and talking, and I frankly love it, and wish they would act like this when they were sober. This will never be the case though.
I'm wearing my tuxedo with a black bowtie, and the photographer comes into the room, which surprises me. I thought I would have to go out there and pose in front of a backdrop, but he directs me to pose however I want, wherever I want. I lace my fingers behind my head and lay on the couch, feet up, and the photographer goes nuts taking pictures. I change my tie to an emerald green one, and then pose myself with an empty champagne glass, lifting it like I'm making a toast. Again, he goes nuts. I pose a number of different ways, with different ties, since that's the only thing that really changes. I change my suit jacket to an orange one for a little, then a red one, and then a white one, but nothing looks quite as good to me as the black.
Finally the photographer has gotten everything he needs, and he plugs in his camera to the computer, flipping through the pictures in slideshow form.
My father is next to me instantly. "They all look….really….r-really good." He slurs.
I take off my suit jacket and shirt and change into a regular black t-shirt, instantly turning away in case the photographer decides to take some photos of me while I'm not wearing my shirt. I keep the pants until I get to the bathroom, where I switch them for jeans. When I get back out, my dad is offering the photographer a drink, and they are all laughing their butts off. And the photographer stands.
"Mind if I get some shots of the groom's side of the family? I work for Capitol Times with Valetta Stone, and she would adore seeing some photos of all of you guys having fun during the shoot."
I nod, and we all position ourselves on the couch. I sit in the center with my father on my left, Cato on my right, both with one arm slung over my shoulders, and Haymitch sitting on the armrest next to my dad. This earns us a dozen or so photos, and then suddenly our photographer is gone, and he's off to take pictures of Liz, now that it's noon, and time for her shoot to begin.
"Want to sneak in?" Haymitch asks.
"No." I reply.
"It's tradition for me not to see her until she is walking down that aisle on her father's arm,"
Cato smiles at me and claps me on the back, pulling me into a quick hug.
"Luke, can we go and talk?" He asks me.
Now I have two options. I consider before I answer the fact that Cato has consumed some alchehol, and that he is also possibly a little emotional over his one and only daughter being at her wedding shoot. I can either say yes, and potentially end up on the tail end of a Cato Hirsch drunken rage, which my father has experienced before and told me countless times it isn't fun, though I think within 14 years there is a huge possibility that the drunken rage behavior could change at least a little bit. Or, on the other hand, I could say no and risk Cato lashing out on me for not accepting to the generous man talk we could be having.
"Of course." I say, making my decision then and there.
I follow Cato down the hall to a smaller room. He sits down on a couch, and I sit down across from him on another. He looks me in the eye, and then he does something I would never, in a million years expect. He started crying. Cato Hirsch started crying.
"You make my daughter so happy, Luke. You know that?"
I nod. "I do know, Cato. And I'm very happy that I can make her happy."
This response seems to impress him, but it doesn't stop his tears.
"Mr. Hirsch, why are you crying?"
He sniffles. "I just don't want Liz to leave Clove and I. Originally, her plan was to volunteer at age 18, each year in training making it more and more likely that she'd volunteer, but not until she was 18. It was a plan Clove and I had approved early on. We said it would be the equivalent of going off to college, because when she came back, she'd have money, like she had gotten a job, and she would be living in her own house, like if she had moved out to live in a dorm."
I find myself pulling Cato into a hug, trying to comfort him as best I can.
"She won't leave you. She doesn't want to. She loves me, and I love her, but both of us agreed we didn't want to get married until we were older, until we were more responsible."
"I don't want to see her pregnant. I know that those 9 months will be the hardest thing I've ever dealt with. I can handle bloodthirsty tributes, and a crazy relationship with my wife, and having a teenage daughter, but I don't think I can handle it when she comes in and says those two words. 'I'm pregnant'. Those two words are said, and it's a sure sign she'll be gone."
I understand his fear. My father has been giving me this talk for a few months now, making sure that I know the choice I'm going to make, and what it will mean for Liz. My mom has told me gently over and over again that no matter what, I have to do what is best for Liz and the baby, because above all, they come first. They come above me. And I've understood that for a long time.
"If anything, she'll need you and Clove more than ever. You know your daughter better than I do, but I know that she is going to come home a lot, and she'll need advice, and guidance, and help. She'll want you two there when she's having the baby, and I know that she will want you opinions on the baby names we come up with."
Cato smiles, wiping his tears off his face, taking a sip of his drink and standing up.
"You're a good man, Luke. You know what you need to do, and you seem like a man that will do everything and anything he can to make sure that what he needs to do is being done."
I stand up as well, getting ready to walk out. "Oh, and if you tell Liz, or anyone else for that matter that I was crying, I will personally skin you alive before roasting you over a fire, and then killing you. I don't care if you're my daughters fiancée."
I laugh. "Of course I won't tell, sir."
We walk out of the room, and I see a flitter of white, but before I see anything, Cato's hands are over my eyes and I am seeing nothing.
"Damn it, Liz! You couldn't have waited until we were behind a closed door." Cato shouts.
I hear Liz's laughter, and I know she's giving her father a smile. Or a smirk. Or a combination of both that I can only call the Liz look.
"Sorry daddy! The photographer said it was time, so I went. I have to follow directions or bad things happen."
"What on Earth did they do to you, honey? You are so…..you look like a doll in a wedding dress."
Liz laughs. "I know. I have to go now, but I'll see you soon."
I hear the clatter of heels as they walk down the steps, and Cato leads me forward, still covering my eyes until we get into our room again, and he closes the door.
"She looked weird." Cato says.
"Told you!" My father agrees.
"I thought it kind of looked good." Haymitch says.
My eyes dart around to all of them.
"I hope that isn't the option the Capitol picks. She could look so much better."
"Am I seriously the only one that didn't see that dress?" I ask.
Everyone nods.
"Yup," Cato slurs.
"But you'll see soon enough." He says with a smile.
Liz POV-
"Look straight at me. Right into my eyes." The photographer commands.
I stand a little straighter and turn the way he wants me to, careful not to trip over the long skirts of the wedding dress I am wearing. I already fell down two steps in it before, and I am not going to fall again. The skirt itself looks like miniature white flower petals all glued together all on top of each other and overlapping to make a big skirt. The back has a slight train, but it's nothing major. It feels heavy against my hips down, and I don't like it. I hope that not all wedding dresses feel like this. As for the top of the dress, it's a somewhat tight bodice, although it's also showing my cleavage, because it's too loose for me, and I'm not allowed to have it altered. Snow's idea of what my size is obviously is not really what my size is.
It's slightly uncovering me, so I make sure not to bend over any more then I have to. It's a pretty dress, if it would fit correctly and if it was black maybe. I was told that all my dresses were white, which made me mad, because a black wedding dress sounded pretty awesome to me.
I remember that I'm in the middle of my first dress shoot, and so I put a hand on my hip, and then hold my other hand up to where the photographer will make a bubble appear on the lens. He tells me to make a laughing expression, like I'm having the most fun I can think of, and I do.
"Arm up a little higher, Liz."
I do as he says and he snaps a few pictures as I laugh and work my head back and forth. My curls tickle my face as they bounce along with my movement.
"Turn to your left."
I obey, and the photographer snaps some more pictures.
"Arms up. Twirl around." He directs.
I awkwardly put my arms up and turn around in a circle.
"No. No no no." My mother says from her spot on one of the couches. She's in a dreadful mood, but Katniss hands her a travel mug full of coffee and vodka, so my mother calms down very quickly. Two of her favorites- coffee, and alchehol.
"I'm trying my best." I say, laughing and putting my hands on my hips.
My mom gets up and starts coming toward me after groaning loudly and giving me a disapproving look.
"Clove let me try to help her." Katniss says gently, guiding my somewhat intoxicated mother back to her seat.
She walks over and stands next to me.
"You've watched my interview for my Games before, right?"
I nod. "Of course. Tons of times."
Of course I had seen her interview! Why wouldn't I have? I have memorized every detail of those Games, including the interviews for the people that matter.
She gives me a smile. "Twirl like that. And don't feel bad about your mom. I put a lot of booze into her coffee without meaning for her to get bitchier."
And suddenly I know exactly what I am supposed to do. I raise my arms and twirl like a crazy person, spinning and twirling and smiling.
"Arms up a little higher, and look straight at me."
I look at the photographer after putting a strand of hair in my face just a tiny bit. I know it'll look really good.
"Alright, go change into your next dress."
I don't need to be told twice. I follow my team back to the dressing room. Within seconds Melody and Vilnius are helping me out of my first dress and showing me the second, which I love so much more.
This dress is strapless, like the other, but it has subtle little jewels on the bodice, and the skirt is fuller, with a longer train and tiers of flowing white fabric, but it's beautiful. I step into it, careful not to snag my simple white heels on any of it. As I put it on, I know that I love it. The elaborate design is…well, elaborate, but it's in a way that I can enjoy.
"Ready?" My mom asks me.
I nod, and we all walk back down the steps. The photographer stops me halfway.
"We'll picture this dress on the steps. Hold the skirts in your hand please."
I must have given a confused look, because Octavia comes to my rescue.
"Like you're at a ball and you're walking down the steps gracefully."
"Oh! I knew that." I say, laughing awkwardly.
I take the skirts in my hands and look at the camera, flashing a smile. The photographer smiles back at me, raising his camera. "Your happiness is infectious!"
He snaps a photo.
"I'm turning the shutter on rapid for 5 pictures. Pose! Move! Do whatever you want, just stay on the steps."
He flicks the shutter and I tip my head back, laughing. Next I hold one hand out with my skirts and keep the other down, craning my neck to the side and stretching. Then I put both hands on my hips, smirking into the camera. Then I cross my arms, giving another smirk shot, and for the final shot I put my fingers in my hair, looking at an angle to the left so out of the corner of my eye I can still see the camera, but I can mostly just see my hair.
"Oh my god. I can tell you are just brimming with happiness, darling! Onto the couch. I want to do the next dress on the couch, or around it. Go change into it. Chop chop!"
I walk up the stairs two at a time, surprised that I'm not tripping as I run up with Norlina and Flo running after me holding the train of the dress. I've gotten more coordinated since the beginning of this, I can tell.
Once we reach the dressing room I take another look at myself in the mirror. I really like this dress.
"Take it off, Cinderella." Melody says, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Awww. But it's so...so-"
"Don't make me take it off you myself." She adds.
I sigh and start taking off the dress.
"Where's the third dress?" Melody shrieks.
I immediately whip around, gaping at her.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I mean that all the bags are labeled by number, and there isn't one that has a three on it."
Now, I happen to be standing in my underwear and a pair of heels, so I am really not in the mood to not have something to change into.
"And where is Vilnius?" Melody asks.
"Oh, he went with the boys…..that bitch probably took the dress too." Norlina scoffs.
"Yeah. It totally sounds like something he would do, that Goth freak." Flo says, but I know she's only saying it to agree with Norlina, like always.
But that sets off Argentina.
"That man happens to be my boyfriend, thank you very much. And he wouldn't steal the dress. He just wouldn't." She says, pleading with us.
I put on a robe and step out of the room. "I'll go look in the boys room for the dress. I bet it isn't there."
I take my heels off, and walk down the hallway in my bare feet, knocking on the door when I get there.
"Hey, it's Liz. I need to come in. Not to worry, I'm not wearing one of the dresses."
Haymitch opens the door, and I walk in, seeing Luke, Peeta, my dad, and Vilnius sitting on the couch, all holding cups with similar liquids.
"Sorry. Did I interrupt the bachelor party?" I ask.
"Nope. This isn't that. It's just all of us drinking our asses off." My dad pipes up.
I laugh and look at Vilnius.
"Dress 3. Have you seen it?" I ask.
"Yes I have, Princess. Damn. It took Melody this long to realize it was missing?"
"We just finished the shoot for the second dress. Sorry. Our photographer is having me do a ton of stupid things."
Vilnius retrieves the bag from a rack behind the couch, and Luke looks up at him.
"When the hell did you get that?" He asks is surprise.
"A while ago….when you and Cato were talking. You didn't notice. I wanted to piss off Melody."
I feel like a bitch, but I feel like yelling at Vilnius. "Well it worked! I need the dress. I am going to be in so much trouble! If we're here until 5 instead of 4, I will personally smack you upside the head, Vilnius. Oh, and Argentina says hi."
I take the bag and saunter out of the room, walking back in and getting my robe off and pulling out the dress. I immediately hate it. The bodice looks slutty, being cut in a V shape at the top, and the bottom is entirely feathers. It's fluffy in a completely terrible way, and it is not anything like what I want to wear.
"I don't like it." I say instantly.
"Darling, you look fabulous." Melody trills, throwing me a smirk and wiggling her eyebrows.
I fight extremely hard internally not to lunge at her and kill her on the spot. It's really hard, considering it would be so easy to just strangle her with my bare hands. My parents taught me how to do it with a lot of convenience, and I mention that because I want to make sure nobody, not even you people, underestimate my abilities.
"I think it's very….Capitolite." Effie says as she walks inside, her 7 inch lime green shoes click-clacking.
"I still don't like it, no matter what you say." I grumble.\
"Oh, I would wear that. If I were thinner….and if it was red." Algeria comments, tilting her head to the side and clicking her tongue.
"It's a nice dress…..but I can't see you wearing that…..I just can't." Argentina says.
"Thank you! Mute twin has most sense!" I say, throwing my hands up in exasperation.
Vilnius laughs. "I might wear that for Halloween if it isn't your wedding dress." He says.
"You dress as a girl for Halloween?" Tari asks him.
"No….not usually. But this year I totally think I will." He says, grinding the air like when I first met him.
"Honey, you'd make an ugly woman." Norlina drones.
"Yeah. The ugliest." Flo agrees.
"No he wouldn't! Come on, let's just go to the photo shoot," Argentina grumbles, her eyes flashing with venomous anger.
Vilnius seems to sense his girlfriends rage, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her softly when she pouted in his direction. Her face changed to a smile, and we all laughed our heads off for a second, at all the weirdest parts of all of this. It was stupid, but we all found something to laugh about, and then we all seemed to snap back to reality and walked down the steps to the photo shoot. The dress shed a few white feathers as I walked, and I liked it a lot less, if that was possible.
"On the couch now, dearie. You can go on it, or behind it, or around it. Whatever you want."
I nod and lean on the armrest of the couch. If the dress is slutty, I might as well play that up as my personality during this portion of the shoot. I put arm on the armrest from my elbow to my hand, lean myself down chest first, and then put my other hand on my hip, swishing my hair back behind me.
Our photographer snaps the photo, and then I go around to the front, sitting myself on the plush cushions, settling the feathery skirts around me as not to expose my underwear. Another flash and a click, and I'm told to get into position for my next picture.
"I don't know what to do now." I say, biting my lip in concentration, trying to think up another idea.
"I have an idea," Our photographer says, as though he is reading my mind.
"I have some white feathers that we can put on you and in your hair, and then just smile and look up at me. I'll take an above shot of the look, and then we'll get all the feathers off again and you can take your other pictures."
"I like that idea. A lot." My mother says.
My mother has barely liked anything in this shoot, mostly because she's had to do one herself and hated all her dresses, and because she is pretty much drunk off the booze in her coffee, which Katniss has slowly decreased the amount of liquor in as of now, but if she likes this idea, I'll be doing it, considering this could be a onetime thing that she actually likes something.
We all scatter the white feathers around the couch and all over the pillows and stuff, and then I lay myself flat on the couch as Katniss and my mom generously help scatter some more feathers all over me., my mother stumbling just a tiny bit each time she moves really fast, which is a lot, considering she's running and throwing the feathers on me like a flower girl at a wedding. And trust me when I say it's a funny image to think about.
"It looks really cool." Katniss assures me.
I sneeze and look at her. "If you say so." I mutter.
The photographer stands on a chair and lifts the camera to his eye. I smile nervously and hold a few feathers in my hands, as if maybe I made a mess of them or something.
"What's your name anyway? I just realized I don't know it." I ask the photographer.
The man gives me a panicked expression, then brings his camera back down away from his face, as though he's worried I'll punch him and the camera held there will do some sort of damage to him. An interesting thought, but I don't think that will be happening.
"Christopher. Christopher Mane. Sorry, did I not mention my name before?"
"No, I don't think so, but I was just curious. I'm not mad or anything." I laugh, and Christopher smiles, lifting his camera back up to his eye.
"Look right into my lens, and smile." I force my teeth into a big smile.
"Bigger. Come on, smile as big as you can."
I smile bigger, but it feels awkward and phony.
"Stop. Just stop…..try something for me. It will help your smile a lot I think. It's pretty right now, but it could be so much more beautiful. Think of Luke. You love him, right?"
I nod my head rapidly, feeling my hair tickling my face again.
"Then smile like the two of you are the only people are on Earth. Like there is nobody there to judge you, and nobody there to yell at you if you aren't acting vicious and aggressive and mean."
He shoots my mother a pointed look, and she in turn sticks her tongue out at him. I swear, I am the mature one of my family.
"Smile like that, and I promise, the picture will turn out perfectly. Close your eyes and imagine that for me, please."
I close my eyes slowly, immediately seeing Luke's image flash behind my eyelids. He's all I'm thinking about now, and somehow, I see him in the Arena, as though that is the first thing my mind can come to involving the two of us. Maybe it's because we were the only two people together, and it felt like nobody else was there.
This was when Alice was gone out of our cave hideaway, and Maryann and Michael and whoever else was alive at the time and our ally were away, and I see the dim light reflecting and refracting off of his blonde hair, slightly dirty from not getting a proper shower in a few days. I see him smile at me, as though I am the only thing that is on his mind as well, and somehow I just know that he is thinking about me. I am his beloved girlfriend after all.
I open my eyes again, smiling. I know now that my eyes are bright, and my smile is bigger than ever.
"Perfect!" Christopher calls out, and he snaps the picture almost instantly after that, as if he knows that I won't keep this mindset for much longer, no matter how much I want to.
"Now up, up, up! We still have two more pictures to take in that dress, and I am sure you are just dying to get into something else."
I snort. "Is it that noticeable?"
He nods and ushers me behind the couch, where he tells me to lean both of my arms down the way I did the first picture with one arm, and then arch my back and lean over so I'm upside down.
"But that's…..that's a little exposing, don't you think?" I ask.
He nods. "But we need all sorts of different shots, and then Valetta will decide which picture for each dress is the best, and those will be the ones we show on the news report."
"Ugghhhhhhhhh," I groan.
I arch my back over and lay my arms where they are supposed to be.
"Just snap the picture before I get self conscious about the fact that the entire population of Panem could potentially see my breasts exposed like this."
Christopher laughs. "Take the picture already!" I snap.
He laughs again, but he snaps the picture, and as soon as it's over, I am upright and pulling the bodice up a little snugger on me, which ends up hurting a little.
"One more…..where to put you? Where to put you?" Christopher says, tapping a finger against his chin.
I go behind the couch and sit down, peeking over so just the top of my head and my eyes can be seen.
"Perfection!" Melody squeals, and Christopher snaps the photo.
I am up and running to get this dress off as soon as the flash goes off, and I yank my heels off my feet to get to the room faster. Vilnius chuckles to himself and helps me by unzipping the back so I can get it off, and Tari hands me the next bag.
I look inside, seeing another strapless white dress. I'm disappointed, I won't lie, because one) the dress is white, and like I said before, I totally was looking forward to wearing a black wedding gown, and two) because it's strapless, and I want a dress that is different from all of the others.
I can't help but groan. "Are all of the dresses strapless?" I ask.
Algeria bobs her head.
"But you have excellent support for it, at least. I think it's nice that all of the dresses are showing that off."
I gape at her. "I knew you stared at my breasts when I wasn't looking." I laugh, playfully punching her in the arm. She flinches all the same and rubs her arm. Oh hell no. Tell me I did not actually hurt her. That would be more pathetic than I thought.
"Ow." She mumbles.
Luke POV-
I hate to be the weird groom that is spying in on their fiancée's bridal photo shoot, but I wanted to see her. I hadn't seen her in four hours, and I….I missed her. It was weird. I knew I would see her again, but I hadn't seen her in a few hours, so it made me miss her. Does that make any sense at all? I think it does.
I see Liz walk down the steps in a white strapless dress. The bodice is what I notice first, because she is gasping and clutching at it like she can't breathe.
"Is she alright?" I whisper to Cato.
"I think so, but look at the back of that dress, It's a lace up…..corset. Damn. No wonder she can't breathe! That top part of it is probably squeezing her so tight that she can't."
I give him a panicked look and then look back at Liz, who is now standing at the bottom of the steps holding her stomach with one arm.
"Mom…I can't…breathe…." She gasps.
"Then let's get this dress photo shoot done. I can be quick if you can dearie." Our photographer states, snapping his fingers.
Liz nods and stands over by a window, gazing out into space with a relatively calm expression.
"Luke! Cato!" I hear.
Both Cato and I simultanmeously swivel around to the sound of Haymitch's voice.
"Oh shit." Cato mutters, getting up and making it look like he is scolding me.
"I told you not to be here!" He says to me loudly.
Let me tell you something right now that gets some attention. Liz looks up at me.
"Luke?" She asks.
I clasp my hands over my eyes, pretending I didn't see anything.
"Yes?"
"Did you sneak in to my wedding shoot?" She asks quizzically.
"Of course not, sweetie. Your dad wanted to sneak in, and I followed him. But I don't see anything, don't worry." I call down to her.
I hear a laugh like a tinkling bell and know its Liz. Her laughter is adorable. I don't think I have ever heard her laugh like that before.
"Come on, Romeo. And…..Mr. Capulet."
Now it's my turn to laugh at the reference to a Shakespearean play that is beyond ancient. But it's a story of true love, and that is what Liz and I have. Romeo and Juliet are considered the first "star crossed lovers", and my parents, along with Cato and Clove, as well as Liz and I, follow that example. I allow Haymitch to take me back to the room. I don't hear Cato, so I can only assume Haymitch shamed him, and now he's silent and walking next to us or behind us or whatever. I honestly do not know. That scares me. A lot…..
Clove POV-
The alchehol has definitely stopped being present in my coffee. I am annoyed with Katniss, but at the same time, did I really expect her to be giving me boozey coffee for the rest of this shoot? No. She is probably just trying to get me to shut up. And it's working out well I believe. I haven't said much of anything since that third dress.
I am watching my daughter pose for her final photo of that fourth dress. I can tell he dress is hurting her, and I briefly wonder if Snow is trying to hurt her. She looks impossibly thin. Her breasts are pushing slightly upward. It looks good, but I know it is probably hurting her to no end.
"Hang in there, Liz. We're almost done." I say.
She closes her eyes, takes a short breath, winces, and then smiles out the window, as though looking at something she is happy to see. In reality, she's looking down on a Capitolite park, and I am sure there are tons of awed Capitol people just in shock over seeing a glimpse of one of the potential dresses that Elizabeth Hirsch could be wearing to the iconic wedding. They are probably beside themselves with happiness that they saw something before it's officially shown to the public.
Liz steps away from the window, already pulling for the laces on the back of the bodice. She's coughing and sputtering, and I see her hold her stomach again, doubling over.
"Liz!" I scream, running over and pulling at the laces. But it's too late. Liz goes running into the bathroom, holding her hair up away from her mouth, vomiting into the toilet.
"If that is my dress, I am going…to kill myself….before that dress….can do it for me…." She gasps, vomiting again.
I watch her as she gets sick a few more times, and then I walk over, slowly untying the laces. I hear her sigh in relief.
"Does it hurt anymore?" I ask her.
"It does. But it will stop soon I'm sure." She replies, giving me a weak smile.
"Liz, honey, are you really alright? Tell me what is hurting right now. Please."
I know that wearing things that are too hard can be really dangerous. You can break ribs, puncture organs and things wearing something like what Liz was.
"Mom, I'm fine." She groans.
Then to prove her point, she flushes the toilet and walks out, now only clutching the bodice of the dress to her chest so her breasts won't show and the bodice won't fall off. I can see the back of her white strapless bra, but she doesn't seem to mind that people can see that. Maybe she just doesn't know.
My little girl is growing up.
Liz POV-
I get on that final dress faster than I thought humanly possible. As I take off the fourth dress, I look in the mirror, topless, seeing the red and purple bruising all over my upper body. It's mostly on the sides and in the front, so my mother couldn't have seen it as I was walking away. She won't know about this. My insides are on fire, and I still feel like I am going to vomit, but I mask my pain, pulling the zipper up on the last dress. Luckily, it doesn't irritate things as much as that other dress, although everything I wear is going to rub it. I can only hope it won't be that painful.
I finally realize I haven't even really looked at the dress, so I glance at it in the full length mirror. It's strapless, and has vertical chiffon cloth hanging from the skirt, covering it in a fluffy, angelic sort of aura to it. I like it, but, and I hate to say it, I wasn't thinking about anything besides the pain really.
I walk downstairs, and Christopher motions me over to a small desk, like what I have in school. I swing myself in, and he hand s me a pen and some paper.
"Write something on the paper and hold it up. Peek over the top like you did over the couch. Ok?"
I nod wordlessly, scribbling.
Mrs. Luke Mellark
The words seem right to me. I was meant to have those words associated with my name. I feel better immediately.
Christopher snaps the picture, and I put an elbow down on the desk, sighing and rolling my eyes a little bit. Another picture is taken. I give a weak, tired smile, but Christopher snaps a third shot, so it must look pretty good still. I put my head down on my arms, smiling. Another picture. This has gotten a lot easier then when I was taking pictures for the first dress. And the final picture comes, one of me sitting on the desk top, hands grasping the sides, simply smiling.
"Done." Christopher states.
I hop down off the desk, run back up the stairs, get the dress off, hang it up, put it into the garment bag, and change back into my jeans and a tank top in about a minute…..or maybe 2. But I am running down the hallway to Luke's room.
"Luke?" I ask.
The door opens and he emerges, kissing me on the lips gently.
When he comes out of it, he smiles at me.
"I don't want to be rude honey, but your lips taste like vomit."
"Oh my god." I say, clamping a hand over my mouth.
"I am so sorry. Come to the bathroom with me. I'll….wash out my mouth. And then we can do some proper kissing."
He wiggles his eyebrows and takes my hand, and together we head toward a bathroom down the hall. Once inside, I turn on the sink, cupping my hands and lifting the water into my mouth, swishing it around and spitting it out again. My mouth immediately doesn't taste like vomit.
And then I feel my stomach drop, and I kneel in front of the toilet, closing my eyes so as not to see the contents, vomiting and holding my hair away from my face.
"Luke, I don't want you to see me like this." I say.
"Liz, it's fine honey. Everyone gets sick sometimes." He says.
I open my eyes, feeling something on the corner of my mouth, seeing without looking what I coughed up. A wave of dizziness rolls in as I gasp, and before I can control it, my head hits the edge of the toilet bowl, and I faint into darkness as my head explodes into pain.
Luke POV-
"Liz!" I scream, but it's too late. There's blood dribbling out the side of her mouth, the left side of her forehead has a small gash from where she hit the edge of the bowl, and I look in the toilet, seeing the red abyss. Blood. She was throwing up blood. Something was not right here.
"CATO! CLOVE!" I scream at the top of my lungs.
Both Hirsch parents come running in, and both of them simultaneously scream. Cato picks up Liz, running out of the room with a simple "I'm taking her to the hospital on 5th street."
I try and run after him, but Clove holds me back, flushing the toilet and wetting a paper towel, wiping away the blood off the floor.
"Come on! How can you be cleaning at a moment like this? What happened to Liz? Why was she throwing up blood?" I say, tears running down my face.
"I don't know, Luke. I don't know." She firmly grasps my shoulder, looking me in the eye.
"But no matter what, when we leave here, you have to stay calm, otherwise this will make the news, and that is the last thing we need right now." She says.
I nod, but I am more worried about Liz than ever.
That ending pained me to write. It really did. I had to do it though, to put some crazy suspense on there. Sorry this was so long. I didn't mean for it to be. No, that's a lie. Yes, I did. But I did not intend to have this be over 10,000 words. I hope that all of you liked it, and I want you all to review, and let me know what you think! It is SUPER important. I want to thank my new friend hello55522, for being the craziest, possibly most enthusiastic reader I have. Thanks so much girl! And thanks to everyone else as well, for sticking in with me this far. I promise I will try and update soon. The links to the dresses are on my profile, in case you were curious to see what they look like.