Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games
Chapter 14: Victor's Hobbies
Blaine's POV
I groaned in my sleep when I heard the most annoying clatter of footsteps. I wished I were dead. Tossing in my bed while Midnight hissed, standing up as the person barged into our room. Who other than the woman of District Twelve's fate than Effie Trinket comes barging through the door!
There was a loud bang, followed by her heels tapping on the marble floor. I stirred, opening my eyes to see Effie in a drastic yellow attire with pink flowers. Followed by blue heels. I tried to think of what I drank last night that could lead to a psychedelic hangover.
"It's a big, big, big day, Blaine!" Effie sang as she waltzed into the bedroom, going straight to the closet to pick out an outfit. "You have a schedule today, a recording at nine on a new single. Followed by rehearsals for the concert during the winter months after the Victor's tour."
I have many regrets in my life, and one of these regrets is making Effie Trinket my manager. After President Snow forced me into the singing industry, I had to choose my manager. I didn't trust anyone who was from the Capitol except Effie. Now it's all biting me in the ass.
Wait a minute, what recording? I thought.
I sat up instantly to stare at the pink woman as she pulled out a black cocktail dress with a low open back and lace on the shoulders, accentuating the top half while layers of feathered ruffles on the short skirt.
"What recording?" I asked.
"Oh, that's right, you went to bed early," Effie replied, pulling out a pair of red stilettos. "I got a call saying you signed a contract with Simon for three singles. And let's not forget your album Lament! Ooh, the title sends chills down my spine."
Oh, that sly bastard, I thought bitterly.
When an opening comes on a victor's schedule during the game, they take it. Currently, the game is on pause due to the tracker jacker fiasco. Practically half the tributes are asleep from the tracker jacker venom. Although, the boy from District 3 came up with an idea early on in the game. As the Careers go hunting, he digs up the landmines. Apparently, he was making a trap. What bothered me was that he could kill the Careers when they were most vulnerable. Instead, he kept guard.
Katniss was unconscious, though Rue dragged her to a safe location. She took the stingers out and used herbal leaves to treat the swelling. It was shocking to see compassion from the little girl. Haymitch and I were hesitant, as Rue could have slit Katniss's throat or stolen her supplies. Instead, she helped the Girl on Fire. Either those two forged an alliance during training or something is going on.
Peeta, on the other hand, has taken my advice and started using camouflage. He treated his leg first, cleaning the wound by the river, applying cream, and bandaging it. Afterward, he searched for a spot he could hide in. Then he took the mirror and started painting his face with mud and debris to turn his fair skin into stone.
There was nothing I could do. I tried to get more sponsors after everything that happened yesterday. I got a few thousand dollars, but not enough for the medicine I needed. Peeta needs a medical cream to seal the wound, similar to Katniss's burn ointment. The worst-case scenario is Peeta contracts blood poisoning. And that type of medicine costs a hundred thousand dollars.
I should go to the Bettings to make deals, not sing stupid Capitol songs. But knowing President Snow, there was nothing I could do. I groan, hiding under the sheets. I can't displease the Capitol, or President Snow will either execute Katniss or Peeta, or worse…create an accident in the mines.
'You will never know if that accident was intentional,' President Snow murmured in my head. 'As long as you keep singing.'
Clenching my fists, I forced myself up while muttering to Midnight, "Lapis should have won the games."
"Meow," Midnight agreed before hissing at Effie as she tried to remove the blanket.
The only solace I had that morning was showering. When I finished my morning routine, Effie dragged me to the vanity and started playing with my hair and makeup. I told her countless times that I could do it alone. However, Effie finds it therapeutic to try the latest trends she has read on Capitol Couture.
After constant torture from Effie's beauty salon, I walked out of my chambers to the dining room to have breakfast. Haymitch looked at me in shock before laughing hysterically. I growled and tossed a roll at him. Effie went overboard with the makeup. She made me look almost like her, with a pale face, flushed cheeks, and bloody red lips. I basically resembled a clown. I prefer Cinna's work compared to this mad woman, for he knows a fair amount and focuses on the eyes.
"Grumpy, I see," Haymitch teased.
"Oh, shut it, old man," I grumbled, taking a bite from a cinnamon roll.
Haymitch chuckled, shaking his head. As he made himself a mimosa, "I take it you are honoring your contract?"
"I have to please the sponsors," I said.
"Still," Haymitch sighed.
"Hey, at least I'm not spreading my legs," I said.
Haymitch grimaced while Effie shrieked from that comment and started lecturing me on manners. I sighed, going back to my food. Yes, I might have crossed the line. But it is true. I'm not that desperate to sell my body during the Hunger Games.
When I was done eating, I stood up and walked over to give Haymitch a kiss on the cheek. Making sure a heavy mark of lipstick was there. Effie walked in and grabbed my arm, and literally dragged me out the front door. As the door opened, Cinna walked in with a garment bag. We paused, staring at each other, till I slightly blushed at how close we were. We would have almost collided with each other if Effie didn't have such a hold.
"Cinna, hi," I panted.
The look on his face said horror while restraining himself from laughing. To which he just smiled or was it his typical neutral appearance. I glared at him as a warning, and he took a deep breath, restraining himself from the urge to laugh.
"Cinna, what a pleasant surprise," Effie sang. "What brings you here?"
"I have a new outfit for Blaine," Cinna answered.
"Really," Effie murmured, tilting her head like she does with gossip. "Are you busy today?"
"I'm sure he is, Effie," I responded, pulling my arm back.
"Actually, I'm available," Cinna announced.
Effie squealed and clapped her hands like it was good news. "Wonderful. How about you join us at the recording studio and see Blaine sing! I'm sure you can get inspiration for her concert costumes. I believe each song should have its own design."
"Effie!" I exclaimed. "Stop railroading people and leave the poor man alone."
"It would be an honor," Cinna answered.
I sighed, another dragged man so Effie could talk or flirt. Does this woman know that Cinna was in his mid-twenties and she was in her late thirties? Hell, she can date my dad . . . scratch that. Haymitch would commit suicide than date this oblivious woman. Looking at Cinna, he smiled and handed the garment bag to the Red Avox girl, who took it to my room. I mouthed 'sorry' to him, and he shook his head like it was nothing. For some apparent reason, Cinna was very enigmatic.
"Shall we," he said.
Effie agreed and pressed the lobby button. The elevator was quiet, which was a miracle since Effie was doing her nails or texting on some cellular device. A recreation of a machine back in the olden days, before the natural disasters. What was it called again . . . a cell phone? There were cellphones all around, yet a victor named Hacker managed to create a better vision. Hacker was the 60th Hunger Games Victor. I see him on occasion, yet he is more to himself. And when I do manage to talk to him, he excitedly talks about a new invention he is creating or an app in development.
I thought bitterly, if only I could have the same passion for singing as Hacker is for technology.
When the elevator reached the second floor, Brutus came in. He walked in with pride before staring at me for a second. I gave him a warning glare, except the old fool burst out laughing.
"I couldn't recognize you with all that crap!" Brutus laughed.
"Oh, shut it, Brutus!" I snarled.
"Awe, is the victor's daughter angry?" Brutus teased.
"Have you forgotten about Leo?" I countered in a monotone voice.
Instantly, Brutus shut up. What I did to Leo was no typical stab in the heart. I made the most unnatural kill of any career than any tribute in history. No, I didn't become a cannibal like Titus, but I went out of my comfort zone and had some seven minutes in heaven with the profound lion. Brutus shook his head and stood next to me as we glared at each other. Then the first-floor door opened, and Gloss came out. He looked exhausted by the bags under his eyes. Probably had a client last night or a sexual transaction with a sponsor.
Unless he got into an argument with Cashmere….again. Cashmere can be a nice person. Except when it comes to the Hunger Games, she becomes overly competitive. When I won my game, she loathed me with a passion for killing Lapis. Stating I didn't kill with honor. I used my resources, took the blanket, and had the wind cover her with it before stabbing the girl and pushing her off a cliff. My goal was to survive.
It doesn't help that Lapis was Cashmere and Gloss's younger cousin. Gloss didn't hold any grudges since he states Lapis made her choice to volunteer, and there are risks. Cashmere, on the other hand, has it against me. Hence this toxic courtesy. As President Snow told us to cooperate or else.
"Hey, Gloss," I greeted.
"Hey, Blaine," Gloss said with a smile. "So, what are you doing on this break?"
"Got to work on a single," I replied.
"Really," Gloss murmured till he sighed. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Sure," I said.
"Can you…you know, get the record people to give Cashmere a chance?" Gloss asked.
I smiled softly. Gloss was a devoted brother who wanted his sister to be happy. Despite our girls' rivalry over talent, she just wanted to be noticed, not for her beauty or bloody victory, but for her voice.
"I'll try," I answered.
"Thanks," Gloss said as he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. Then move to my ear, "May I say how marvelous you look."
I smacked him on the shoulder playfully, to which he laughed. Once we got to the lobby, Cinna, Effie, and I got off while the two Careers remained in the elevator. Knowing these two, they're probably going to the gym to work out.
"Hey, Abernathy, come spare with us sometime!" Brutus shouted.
"Maybe," I replied, then exited the building to enter a black limo.
Cinna and I sat in the back while Effie took the passenger seat. I sighed in relief to be away from Effie. Also, Hermes was a saint once more, as he left a bag on the seat. The emergency bag. The limo started, and I waited just in case Effie changed her mind and wanted to ride in the back. When she didn't, I sighed in relief, grabbing the bag and dumping the contents. Cinna looked at me curiously as I started taking off the shoes.
"What are you doing?" Cinna asked.
"Fixing myself, mind turning around?" I answered.
Cinna chuckled, shaking his head as he turned towards the window. "Do you do this all the time?"
"Not really, I'm just not in the mood to have Effie at the studio," I grumbled, unzipping the dress and taking it off.
Cinna continued to stare out the window giving me some privacy. I appreciated his manners as I shed the flamboyant dress and changed into something more comfortable. Simon wasn't one for fashion when recording. Unless it was for a magazine. Thus, I put on a pair of dark skinny jeans that held a texture on the knees. A black tank top, followed by a fitted dark gray vest. I put on some comfortable boots as well and snuck in a knife.
A slight chuckle could be heard. I stared at Cinna, still finding him gazing out the window, until realizing the reflection from the glass. I blushed, though I needed to get used to him seeing me half-naked. He is my stylist, after all. There have been men who have seen me naked….but this feels different.
Shaking my head, I tapped his shoulder. Cinna turned around to face me. I handed him the dopp kit that held the basics of makeup.
"Alright, time for mission impossible," I said. "Think you can do it?"
Cinna was baffled by this before a mischievous grin plastered his face. He grabbed the wipes and wiped away Effie's work to work on a clean slate. Then did the foundation, dramatic eyes, and neutral lip with gloss. All under twenty minutes. I was impressed since I would have done it when doing casual affairs.
There were five minutes left as Hermes flicked the lights. I smiled, glad to know I had someone on my side. I grabbed the limo's phone and called him.
"Yes, Miss," he replied like he knew what was going on.
"You know what to do," I said, an evil smile on my lips.
"Of course, Miss," he replied, a hint of humor.
What Hermes loves about his job is watching Effie's exaggerated reactions when things don't follow her plan.
I turned to Cinna, "When the limo slows down, we have to get out. There won't be any stopping."
"Are you sure that is wise," he asked.
"I've done it many times," I assured him.
The studio was less than forty feet away, and you could already hear Effie blabber over the nonsense that is entirely useless information. Until the back doors unlock and hear the front doors lock. Effie protested as the radio blast louder, impossible to listen to the Capitol woman's rage.
"Now!" I barked and jumped out of the moving vehicle that was moving so slowly. I grabbed Cinna's arm, mustered all my strength, and dragged him out of the car. He complied quickly and shut the door as Hermes zoomed down the street. Already Effie was protesting, which could almost be heard.
Either way, Hermes was taking Effie to the Bettings. She can be Haymitch's problem. Don't get me wrong, I do care about Effie. However, not when it's the Hunger Games. I've already dealt with her every time I'm in the Capitol. I just need a day without her breathing down my neck.
Cinna straightens his posture and wipes the imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Are you always like—"
"Like a rebel?" I finished so innocently.
Cinna nodded, then chuckled.
I chuckled as well, taking my hair out of the bun that Effie had put it in. "Actually, here I can sorta be me. I can relax and not worry about reality while channeling my emotions into my work. Sure, most songs are written by songwriters, but I can disconnect from the Games and be free."
"What do you mean?" Cinna asked as we walked inside the massive architectural glass building.
"Sometimes, I feel like I have to lose to survive." I bluntly said.
When I realized what had come out of my mouth, Cinna looked at me with concern. Shaking my head, I grabbed his hand and dragged him inside to see the music industry.
.o0o.
We entered the studio, where Simon sat with the sound mixer and his assistant. Simon heard the elevator open and noticed I brought company. He was about to argue until he stopped, seeing the individual. He saw Cinna, not some fan or one of my Victor Friends. Let alone not someone who was flamboyant.
"You're late," Simon sarcastically said, sitting in front of the soundboard in the control room.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said as we exited the elevator into the record Studio where Simon and his crew worked. The lounge was sheik of white and simple. Just like Simon as he wore white shirt and denim slacks. The only thing Capitol about Simon was his silver hair and owl eyes.
"And who is your…friend?" Simon asked.
"Simon, this is Cinna, District 12's stylist," I introduced.
"I see. You're the one who designed that fire suit?" Simon asked.
"Yes," Cinna confirmed.
"Hmm… I'll have a word with you on a music video. I have a few ideas." Simon murmured.
"It would be an honor," Cinna replied.
The way they talked had me confused. As if they have met before but are keeping things professional.
"Have you two met?" I asked.
"No, I believe not," Cinna answered.
Simon shook his head in agreement.
I mentally scowled at that.
"Well then, shall we begin?" Simon started.
"What are we doing?" I asked.
"I have a song from another artist, and he asks you to be his singer. We will be working on that song and a new single I hope we can use in your winter concert. Now let's get to work."
I nodded, showing Cinna where to sit while I walked over to Simon as he fiddled with the music board to play the sample. I had to hold back a frown, for it was Capitol Pop music. Sometimes I wonder if Simon likes to torment me. If I knew he would do Capitol Pop, I would have charged him a hundred thousand dollars. Simon reviewed the lyrics, highlighting the parts he wanted me to sing.
I nodded again, taking the lyrics and going to the sound booth.
"Sometimes, I wonder if you don't like me," I murmured.
Simon replied, "If I didn't like you, I wouldn't collaborate with you."
I scoffed, putting on the headphones. As I did so, I could see Cinna in the lounge watching me. He seemed intrigued as he watched. I took a deep breath, adjusted to a comfortable position, and focused on the lyrics. There was a monitor as well, with the lyrics.
"We'll start with the beginning," Simon said.
I nodded as I took a deep breath.
And another one bites the dust
Oh, why can I not conquer love?
And I might've thought that we were one
Wanted to fight this war without weapons
And I wanted it, and I wanted it bad
But there were so many red flags
Now another one bites the dust
Yeah, let's be clear I'll trust no one
You did not break me
I'm still fighting for peace
I sang this part many times. Simon gives instructions when I need to go high or low on my voice. It was teamwork, with Simon in charge. I take his instruction seriously, doing my best not to displease him. Although, as I sang, I can somewhat relate to this song. I may not be in a serious relationship; I feel like my relationship is a battlefield.
And I will stay up through the night
Let's be clear, won't close my eyes
And I know that I can survive
I'll walk through fire to save my life
And I want it, I want my life so bad
I'm doing everything I can
Then another one bites the dust
It's hard to lose a chosen one
You did not break me
I'm still fighting for peace
I've got thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
I may snap and I move fast
But you won't see me fall apart
'Cause I've got an elastic heart
I've got thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
I may snap and I move fast
But you won't see me fall apart
'Cause I've got an elastic heart
I've got thick skin and an elastic heart
But your blade it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
And I may snap and I move fast
But you won't see me fall apart
'Cause I've got an elastic heart
I've got an elastic heart
We worked on this song for an hour, getting a rough cover. I know more appointments will come in to get the song better. But for now, the rough draft can work with the music aspect to ensure the beat and melody.
I panted, finishing the last note as I gazed at Cinna, who looked at me strangely. I couldn't put my finger on it the way he looked at me. His face was a mask of his own, yet he was interested in what I was doing. He gave that stare at the interview and before the trip to the headquarters. Admiration? I don't know, but it differed from obsessed fans who announced their undying love to me. Simon said we should keep going a few more times, which I obliged. No one is ever perfect.
.o0o.
Once finished with "Elastic Hearts," I sat next to Cinna, handing him a water bottle while watching Simon and his men edit the music. Just watching their hands going everywhere on the soundboard, leveling the tone, base, tenner, and all that correction in editing. Lately, Simon has liked old-school music, which is why I work with him. I want to relive the past to today's society instead of those pansy artists with artificial voices that their voice cracks or go off-key. Even though I had to deal with the producer's sarcastic, snarky, and downright rude remarks, it beat those plastics.
"So… what do you think?" I asked, taking a sip of water.
"You were remarkable," Cinna complimented.
"Oh, c'mon, I suck badly," I joked, slouching on the couch.
"I would disagree," he murmured. "Out of character, maybe, but decent enough to fool everyone."
I snorted and then grabbed the tablet to check on the game. Nothing, Careers and Katniss are still unconscious while Peeta hides. I observed the other tributes to see their condition, and all of them seemed okay. I guess it was indeed a quiet day. But how long would this last?
"You worry about them," Cinna noted.
"Yeah," I breathed, putting the tablet away. "I worry for all of them. This is just plain wrong, but hey, I have no say."
"Do you?" Cinna questions, "I mean, don't you victors have a say in anything?"
"Nope, if we speak a simple complaint . . ." I stopped myself and stared at him in disbelief. How can this man slip through my walls and get inside my head? "Do you know what curiosity did to the Cat?"
Cinna shook his head. I smirk and lean forward, invading his personal space to tell him the secret. My lips were close to grazing his ear as my hands rested on his shoulder. Cinna stiffened at how close I was and held his breath. "It killed it."
"Blaine, leave the poor chap alone and get back to work. We are on a deadline," Simon called out.
I groaned, for playtime was over as I pulled back to stare at Cinna, only to mentally pout. The seduction I used on clients didn't work on him. He wasn't flustered or had any hint of lust. Just plain neutral like a moment ago. That totally bruised my ego.
"Yes," Cinna replied, correcting his black shirt. "And satisfaction brought it back."
I gawked. He knows it.
Well, damn, Cinna is brighter than he looks, I thought.
I smirked and walked back to the booth. When I look at the lyrics on the podium, all happy thoughts fade. There was a request for a dark soundtrack of songs I could choose. When I heard this and read the song, I felt fear shiver down my spine. I asked Simon to play the music to better understand where this song is going since it could go in either direction. I pray it will be an upbeat song. But once the dark melody played, I knew this song was about power.
No doubt Simon wanted the Lady of Ashes to sing this song. Not Blaine Abernathy. I took a deep breath, summoning all of my emotions and putting control over them. Then gestured for Simon to start.
The piano played with sound effects:
Welcome to your life
There's no turning back
Even while we sleep
We will find you
Acting on your best behavior
Turn your back on Mother Nature
Everybody wants to rule the world
It's my own design
It's my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the
Most of freedom and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world
There's a room where the light won't find you
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
When they do, I'll be right behind you
So glad we've almost made it
So sad they had to fade it
Everybody wants to rule the world
Everybody wants to rule the-
Everybody wants to rule the-
Everybody wants to rule the-
The World.
After singing that song several times to get it right. I felt a lot of emotions, for it's how I felt in the Profit Circle. Mainly my life in learning about the Hunger Games, the training, the reaping, the Training Center. The Games. Everything afterward. So many emotions were stirring inside me, wondering why Simon would pick a song like that. It was almost like a death sentence if President Snow heard about it. Unless it was for a movie or TV series.
I walked out of the room to face Cinna, arms crossed. He looked at me neutrally, just like before. However, his eyes changed his emotions. No longer amused or full of admiration, but sympathy.
"You better be careful when you play with fire," I said to him. "Otherwise, you'll get burned."
"I think I can channel my emotions into my work," Cinna replied. "Just like you channel your emotions through words."
"Who are you?" I asked quietly.
"Shouldn't the question be…who are you?" he countered.
That is a good question . . . who am I?
For I have lost myself long ago.
Changed the songs for this rewrite.
The first song is Elastic hearts by Sia.
The second song is Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Lorde Cover.
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