Author's note
TW: Attempted suicide.
Credit to 'Izzie' for manifesting the idea for Midnight's interview outfit! Izzie, don't take any of what he says to heart; it is a truly breath-taking outfit.
Midnight Shines will be taking a 2-week hiatus, because I don't want thoughts of Midnight to follow me on my holiday.
Now, enjoy watching Midnight having a totally justified mental breakdown.
Chapter 13
Eleven.
Eleven.
Eleven.
The number launches itself at me from every direction. It pummels my brain. It jams my nerves and devours my resolve.
I try to sleep. Maybe I'll wake up and this will all be a nightmare.
Instead, I end up staring at the wall. I count the knots in the wooden panels.
Eleven.
The two jackets hanging on the back of my door – one purple, one pink – look like two number ones.
Eleven.
I irately flip over and check the time.
Eleven minutes past eleven.
I can't take it anymore!
Does the whole universe despise me?
I launch out of bed and storm out of my room, straight through the living room to the staircase.
"Where are you going?" calls Haymitch.
"To the roof." I respond.
I wait for Haymitch to respond. I wonder if he even cares why I'm going.
"Are you planning on doing what I think you are?" he asks.
"I haven't planned anything. The universe has forced me into this. Fate stabbed her pin into a voodoo doll and said, This one. This is the one I will torment beyond measure."
"Wow, emo really does not suit you." Says Haymitch.
Effie and Anomaly laugh.
They don't even care.
I'm supposed to be his son! I treated him like the best father in the world, and he doesn't care if I die!
I yank the door open and grab the handle to slam it shut behind me.
"Wait. Midnight." Says Haymitch.
"Yeah?" I say.
"Put some slippers on. I would hate it if you got cold feet."
I bang the door shut.
I let out a manly scream of anger, and definitely not a pig-like squeal because I just slammed my toe in the door.
I storm to the elevator and ride up one floor to the roof.
There is no breeze up here. Only the stillness of night.
I step onto the ledge.
The neon lights of the Capitol collectively glare up at me.
I inhale deeply.
I count myself down.
Three… Two… One…
Zero.
Minus one…
Minus two…
"Are you jumping or what?"
I leap out of my skin.
I try to regain my balance, but I'm toppling.
My arms windmill as time slows down.
I see who spoke – Rubis, lurking in the shadows.
Wait! There is something to live for!
Gravity pulls me over the edge.
I plummet.
Then I hit something and bounce back.
Am I rising to heaven?
I land in a crumpled heap, back on the roof.
"What?" Rubis stands above me, "You're kidding me; they put up a forcefield?"
"Owww…" I manage.
Rubis makes no effort to help me up. He must be frozen with shock and relief.
He takes a bag of crisps from his pocket and begins munching on them.
I slowly clamber to my feet and lean against the ledge for support. Just below it, I can make out a slight shimmering – the forcefield that saved my life.
Eventually, I say, "Why are you here?"
Rubis replies, "I'm here to save you. A lover's intuition, obviously."
"Oh! Of course!"
"It also might have had something to do with hearing your tantrum from the floor below, and racing up the stairs before you got here in the lift, so I could laugh at you when you jumped."
"But it didn't, so that's alright."
I give him a reassuring smile.
Rubis joins me at the edge of the roof.
He looks over the edge at the forcefield, muttering, "They must've put it up after Hallum jumped. Oh well."
Now that my emotions have calmed down, I can appreciate the incredible view of the Capitol.
It's a nice night. Romantic, even.
I could almost imagine that Rubis and I were a normal couple, talking about our days.
"So…" I start, "How did your training go? Mine went really well. I shot so many bull's eyes!"
"Are you going to tell me what really happened or are you going to pretend you actually hit a target?"
"Well, I did kill a game-maker!"
"That, I can somehow believe." Says Rubis, "Mine went ok. I mostly achieved what I wanted to through persuasion, though."
"Are you saying you got your – what did you get? – through talking to Minnesota?"
"I got a nine. And no – I got your score through talking. I got mine through actually showing off."
"What do you mean?!" I suddenly feel betrayed, "Were you the reason they lowered mine from a twelve?!"
"Obviously they would have given you a one if they saw what a klutz you are with literally every weapon-"
"I'm not!"
"Suuurre… So anyway, I told Minnesota that the Careers said they'd let you join them if you got higher than Sugar. Minnesota didn't see my point at the time, even when I told them how much entertainment you would add to the Games. You must have given them a pretty good performance to make them change their mind."
"Hang on… So, they gave me higher than Sugar so that I could join the Careers? Why?"
"Because what are the Hunger Games for?"
"Erm… Entertainment?" I shrug.
"Exactly. Also, to spread despair throughout Panem. And what sparks more despair than a prodigy and his troglodyte sidekick driving the Careers mad?"
"Wait. Which one am I?"
Rubis pauses for a long time.
"… The prodigy…"
"Ok, great. Well I don't know what either one means, but I'm sure they're both accurate."
"They are."
The next morning I wake up groggily, only to instantly clap my hands over my ears.
Rock music is blasting at a brain-liquifying volume.
I'M JUST A FLEABAG,
NOBODY LOVES MEEE…
Anomaly is in my room, somehow singing – or screaming –even louder than the music.
"SEND ME TO REHAB,
SOMEBODY TOUCH MEEE!!!"
Anomaly sees me with my eyes wide open and cuts off the music.
I see her mouth move but her voice is muffled behind the ringing in my ears.
"What?" I say.
"I said, how heavy do you sleep?! I've been trying to wake you up for half an hour!"
"You could have just shaken me instead of bursting my eardrums!"
She is silent for a second.
"Well I didn't think of that, did I? Anyway, we need to get you ready for your interview. It's going to take a long time. Thank God Moseph's ok, so I don't have to sort out Pinty as well."
"What? I thought Moseph was a puddle."
Anomaly waves her hand dismissively.
"Oh, he prayed to Allah or something. He's all good now."
As she speaks, Anomaly is dragging me out of bed and through the living room, still in my pyjamas, despite my noises of protest.
The vile witch makes me take the stairs to the prep room, where I see three faces that I could have gone my whole lifetime without seeing a second time.
My prep team.
The Torture Trio.
What feels like hours later, I have been rubbed raw. Every molecule of dirt has been removed from my body, along with what feels like my top three layers of skin.
My hair is so soft and clean that I can't make it stay in its neat swish like I usually do.
They even plucked my eyebrows.
When I am finally returned to Anomaly, feeling like a bird prepped for roasting, she is standing beside Moseph. They appear to be mid-argument with Pinty.
"Man don't wanna be wearing no fuckin' dress, you get me? The only reason man hasn't mashed you both up is 'cause it's too close to the interviews and man don't want to end up naked again."
"You're going to wear what Moseph picks out for you and that's that." Anomaly declares.
Pinty glares at her.
"Listen bruv. Your clapped whore-arse is only alive right now 'cause man wants to see what you do with him."
She points ferociously at me in the doorway.
Anomaly speaks just as irately as Pinty.
"Less of your lip, young lady. You think this council-estate mum hasn't dealt with brats like you before? You've finally met someone as stubborn as you. Go with Moseph. Now."
Moseph raises his hands placatingly, saying, "Pinty, I'm sure we can figure something out, if you would just listen-"
Pinty grabs Moseph by the arm and pulls him to the door.
She snaps, "Come on then, Big Man. Let's settle this outside, you get me? Man's gonna chin you up, no lie."
Pinty strikes out her foot at a coat rack on her way past. Its contents cascades across the room.
"She's got a way to go if she's trying to be tough." Anomaly remarks, "I was setting bin fires at her age."
"She killed her parents." I state.
"Eh. Everyone does that a little bit, don't they?"
"What does that even… Never mind. I want to see what I'll be wearing!"
"Makeup first. Then clothes." Anomaly orders.
She forces me into a chair and sets to work caking my face with buckets of makeup.
"I don't need all this! What about my natural beauty?"
"I'm doing what you asked me to. Just shut up and sit still, you'll look great."
I sit in silence as she beats my face with a makeup sponge and dabs all sorts of colours on my eyelids and cheeks.
When she finally allows me to stand, I say, "Mirror?"
"Outfit first."
Anomaly retrieves the most hideous garment that I have ever seen from the pile of clothes Pinty spilled on the floor.
I gasp, "I am not wearing that!"
"You are."
"You must be joking. There's no way on earth-"
"Do I need to get your prep team in here to help persuade you?"
I halt in my tracks.
"M-my mistake. It looks lovely, Anomaly."
Each and every one of my skin-cells cringes as I step into the outfit.
"One last thing." Anomaly says.
Before I can make a run for it, there's a flash of yellow as she forces something onto my head from behind me.
"There." She says proudly.
Anomaly unveils a full-length mirror from behind a curtain.
I dread to look.
There I am, virtually unrecognisable in a floor-length dress, the blue of a plastic school-chair. The bell-shaped skirt curves upwards into an hour-glass bodice that is far too loose around my chest. My shoulders have widened by half a meter on either side, though my forearms are like noodles, squeezed into excessively tight sleeves. Possibly the worst part is the blue-and-yellow striped collar that fans out taller than my head, even higher than my high-vis yellow wig.
The whole dress is made of what feels like a swimming-pool cover, trimmed with gold that is already flaking to reveal the yellow plastic beneath.
Between the florescent yellow curls of my hideous wig, my face has been slathered with pale foundation, orange eye-shadow and pearly white lipstick.
To top it off, Anomaly has forced me into Effie-height heels. All my weight is on my toes.
I'm lost for words.
This has to be a Capitol trend. Yes, I do look handsome… Surely… Right?
Then I remember that Anomaly made this. A Goth. How could she try to trick me like this?!
"What is this?!" I yell, "It's… It's abominable!"
"You said you wanted to look like Effie!"
"I never…" Then I recall what I said, "Oh my God. I meant Effie out of drag! Like, a sexy gay! Not a pantomime dame!"
"Well you should have specified then, shouldn't you? When you said Effie, what was I supposed to think?"
"That I still wanted to look like a man!"
"Well I took you literally. What are you gonna do about it?"
"I'll… I'll set Rubis on you!"
"He's not here."
"Ugh!"
I scream with rage and go to stamp on Anomaly's foot. I stumble in my heels and miss completely, only just skimming the side of her toe.
"Ow!" she shouts.
She falls to the floor, writhing in pain.
Huh. I forgot how strong I must be.
I hike up my skirt, which takes a lot of effort due to it being made of plastic – and stumble out of the room.
In the corridor I bump into Rubis.
He looks at me, taken aback.
"H-hello!" I say in a shrill voice, "I'm Effie. Um… Is that a speck of dust I see on your shoulder? How dreadfully… Unsanitary!"
"I know it's you, Midnight."
"No, I'm not Midnight. I'm far too average to be mistaken for a hunk like him."
I have to get away from Rubis and get out of this abomination.
"I don't think you look bad." Rubis says, desperately trying to hide his smile.
"Really?" I say.
"Yeah, you look great. I might even say attractive."
I blush so deeply that I fear my makeup will melt. Rubis could be right; this outfit isn't so bad…
"W-well… If you like it… I guess I could wear this to my interview, in front of millions of viewers…"
"Yeah. Do that."
With that, Rubis strides past me.
I turn to watch him leave, my gorgeous, elegant skirt crackling around me.