Is this some kind of torture? Olive thought as another strip of some kind of material was yanked away from her skin, tearing out all the hair under it. It hurts. Are you done? Please be done.
"Sorry, sorry!" Sienna, a young woman with pale white skin, said with the so easily mockable Capitol accent. She was the only woman out of Olive's prep team, and also the only one without golden tattoos covering her face. "That was the last one, promise. It's over now."
"Why would Cario tell us to go through the same procedures as the female tributes?" Marcus, one of the men from her prep team, asked, while the others just shrugged. Her stylist, whose name seemed to be Cario, had probably been given the news about her identity before the prep team.
"All right, so the last step is to grease you down, and that's it." A man called Cassius said before the other two approached her with some kind of lotion, which they applied to the areas that were now red from all the yanking and stripping of hair.
It didn't take long. Perhaps that last step had been the quickest her team had done. A few minutes went by, and the lotion was quickly washed away from her body. They took the thin robe she had been wearing so far and left her completely naked on the table, circling around to make sure everything was perfect.
Don't argue. Don't say anything . . . Librae or Finnick could have at least given a hint that they would strap me naked like this. Or was it so obvious that they didn't feel it was necessary? Who cares? I don't like strangers looking at my body. Olive thought, closing her mouth tightly to not say a single thing.
"Perfect! You almost look like a decent human being now," Marcus commented, clearly proud of his job.
Olive bit her tongue, trying hard not to give any sassy or bitter remarks to his statement, while smiling kindly at him. Maybe replying would be better than just smiling, but she wasn't confident she could actually say something nice.
"You'll see, when Cario is through with you, you'll be more handsome than any of the other tributes out there," Sienna said, happily clapping her hands with enthusiasm.
"Great," Olive uttered, snickering slightly at the 'handsome' mention.
"Let's call Cario!" Cassius exclaimed excitedly before running out of the room with the rest.
They're annoying, loud and bothersome, but I can't really hate them. They're too innocently stupid for that. Olive thought, running her fingers through her now loose, silky, and perfectly wavy hair. Her free hand went to touch her mother's earring, finding nothing in the process.
She had forgotten that she had given it to Finnick before the prep team could get a hold of her. Who knew what they could do with it? Throw it or lose it, perhaps. Two situations she would absolutely not accept and would definitely fight over.
"Hello Navin, I'm Cario, your stylist," a person right in front of her said, rather softly for a Capitol person. "Is it Navin? Your mentors barely explained to me how you identify yourself."
"Just call me Olive," she answered in the same soft tone he used. There was something about the stylist that made her respect him. Maybe it was the way he was so casually dressed, the soft make-up, or the lack of tattoos on his face. Perhaps it was simply the fact that, for the first time since she had become a tribute, someone actually seemed to treat her like a human.
"All right, Olive. Just give me a moment," Cario said, circling around the table to make sure everything was up to his standards. "I think I have it pretty much figured out . . . OK. How about you put on the robe, and we'll go somewhere else to have a chat?"
Olive didn't reply. She simply put on the robe and followed after him. They arrived in a sitting room, where two blue couches faced off over a low table. Through a glass wall, Olive could see most of the city. It must be around noon. She thought, taking a good look at the sky.
Cario motioned her to sit on a couch, while he took a seat on the one across from her. Once seated, he pressed a button on the side of the table, which made the top split and show how a second table-top held their dinner.
There were many types of food. Each was more difficult to encounter in her district than the last. Even with a full month of hunting and trading, Olive could never have such a meal back in her home. Maybe half of it, and the poor version of it. Things like pudding or cream could never be achievable. They had to be changed for a simpler and cheaper version, or not eat them at all.
"We must look very vile from your perspective," he muttered, causing Olive to glance at him, letting out a bitter chuckle at his statement.
"Indeed," she said, still looking straight into his eyes. There was something weird about him, almost as if he was trying to apologise, but couldn't.
"Anyway, let's move on. So, about your costume for the opening ceremony, as you know it's customary to reflect the flavour of the district. That's why I thought of a costume that luckily we can alter really easily," he explained, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.
"So, a fisherman's outfit, right? That or straight up a fish," Olive questioned, knowing that being from Four, there wouldn't be many options to choose from those.
"Actually, your sea-blue eyes sparked an idea in my head," he said, taking a few seconds to make sure he had her full attention before adding. "What would you say if I dressed you to be the sea?"
"I'd say that's a complex concept," she chuckled, sitting more comfortably on the sofa as she listened to him explaining all about her outfit. He seemed really passionate about his job. A thing that, so far, Olive had seen in the other Capitol people she had met.
It must be nice to be able to pick your own job. In Four, or you follow your parent's job, or you're an illegal trader. Even some people with proper jobs, like fishermen, are illegal traders. She thought, still listening to Cario's extended explanation while picking a loaf of bread to eat.
Hours later, she was dressed in the so-promised sea outfit. The dress, which was once a complicated romper, had been added layers of fabric to make it look just like sea waves. Even the bottom of the skirt seemed to be wet by non-existent water.
"What do you think?" Cario asked with a proud grin. He was confident in his skills, and it showed greatly.
"It's beautiful, Cario. I think you've outdone every stylist so far," she said, twirling in front of the gigantic mirror in front of her to have a better look at the dress. When she stopped spinning, she saw Cario waiting patiently with a sea green headpiece in his hands.
He asked her to turn her back to him, so he could put it on her hair. There was a slight tugging, and some strands of hair in front of her eyes were put back, never coming back to their original place. "Perfect. You can look now."
Turning around, Olive found herself staring at her now stylised hair. The headpiece had been used to pull her long fringe back, leaving her eyes to shine through the soft gold make-up around her eyes. The sea green of her mother's and younger siblings' eyes. The sea blue colour of her father's and Gianna's eyes. The golden colour her mother so much loved. Everything in that outfit exclaimed, "home".
"Thank you, Cario. Thank you so much," she muttered, not daring to say the reason behind her thanks. Afraid that she would end up crying and inevitably ruining her make-up. Perhaps he would never know how touched she was about the entire outfit. Although, that possibly was for the best.
"Don't go crying on me now, Olive. We just put on the make-up," he joked, causing her to let out a sound between a giggle and a snicker. "Come, I'll take you to your mentors. If we take any longer, we might miss the ceremony."
As they arrived at the giant stable, officially called Remake Centre, Cario showed her to Four's chariot, where surprisingly, her fellow tribute hadn't arrived yet. Olive couldn't keep herself from sweating a bit. Her nerves were getting the best of her. After all, that ride would decide whether the people would start looking at her as a possible tribute to sponsor or not.
When they reached Four's chariot, Cairo went to talk to Ron and Librae, who welcomed him immediately to their conversation. Mags greeted Olive, complimenting how pretty she looked, which caused her to giggle nervously with her slightly shaky body.
"Well, would you look at that? You finally look like a girl," Finnick mocked, causing Olive to bite her tongue, trying hard not to spit at him as that could get her in trouble. "No need to bite your tongue with me, sweetheart. That murderous look of yours betrays you . . . Here, a sugar cube, just so you'll stop looking at me like that. "
"Maybe you could get some tips from Cario. Perhaps like that, you could finally look like a normal boy," she muttered, not particularly loud enough for him to hear, although she didn't either try to keep him from hearing. Looking down, she stared at the sugar cube that he had left in her hand before eating it. The sweetness immediately improved her mood despite Finnick's remarks.
"Oh, you don't think I look exceptionally handsome?" He mocked, grinning widely.
"If you're asking if I'm delusional. No, I'm not," she laughed, shaking her head playfully as she saw him about to say something again. "Not everyone will be at your feet, Finnick. You would do great to remember that in the future. Wouldn't want my mentor to make a fool of himself again."
Finnick laughed, nodding along as if to show her that he was pleased with her comment. Suddenly, the opening music began, which meant all the tributes had to step on their chariots for the twenty-minute ride to the City circle.
"Good luck, Olive," she heard Finnick whisper in a strange, gentle tone just seconds before Four's chariot began to move. She hadn't had time to thank him, but either way, she would have time for that after the ride.
All right, Olive. Look directly in front of you, smile, wave, and don't fall off! She recited in her mind. The chariot moving forwards. However, for some reason, those words weren't the only thing stuck in her head.
She could have imagined it. However, Finnick's tone wasn't the only thing gentle about him as she left. Just before exiting the doors, she had managed to turn her head around to look at him. He had a strangely concerned expression, which was odd enough compared to his typical cocky and sarcastic self.
After President Snow's speech from his mansion's balcony and just as the anthem played again, the chariots were finally pulled to the Training Centre. The place all tributes would train in for almost a week until they were sent to the Hunger Games to kill each other.
As Olive descended from the chariot, she noticed how oddly calm she was. All her anxiety had disappeared a while ago while 'arguing' with Finnick. I was talking to him all the time, so I couldn't concentrate on how nervous I was. She thought, seeing as her prep team got closer to the chariot.
"I swear! I've been talking about you two to possible sponsors today. Non-stop," Piscia defended herself on the short lift ride to their district's floor. No one had questioned she hadn't done so, though. Actually, no one had talked at all in the short time they had been together.
"We know, Piscia. You always do your best," Ron said in a soft tone, trying to calm the escort down.
As Olive opened the door to her quarters, she found herself in front of a room bigger than her entire house. Doubtfully, she looked behind her, where Finnick was conveniently passing by. "Is this really just for me? My entire house could fit in there."
He stopped in his tracks, snickering slightly before raising his eyes from the ground to look at her. "Yeah, just for you. It's the Capitol's way of trying to make you forget your life might end next week."
"Thanks, Finnick. That makes me feel so much better," she commented playfully, watching as he took an imaginary hat off and bowed a bit. "Oh, and thanks for earlier. I guess you're not a dork all the time." Without waiting for a reply, Olive closed the door behind her.
Looking around the room, she found where the wardrobe was and programmed an outfit to wear to supper after having a shower, which she hadn't fully figured out how it worked yet. After a few minutes, she could decipher some basic buttons she needed for a simple shower, which allowed her to get out of the bathroom in less time than the day before.
As she put on her shirt, a knock on the door startled her. Piscia was calling her to have supper with the rest. Olive closed the wardrobe's doors and exited the room, encountering the escort, who immediately guided her to the dining room.
Cario and his fellow stylist were sitting side by side at the table, where most of the mentors were already there. Only Olive's district partner and Librae were left to appear. Piscia motioned her to take a seat between an empty seat and Finnick, which was slightly awkward for her. However, she said nothing and sat down obediently.
A man dressed in white appeared next to her with glasses of wine, silently offering her to take one if she desired. Wine was something she had barely seen one or two times in her life. She remembered how much her mother liked it, which made her father work extremely hard on trading during her birthday just so he could buy a bottle. Of course, that was until she died. From that point on, not even a single bottle of wine had been brought to their home. Almost as if it had been silently banned from being bought ever again.
Olive accepted it regardless, letting the man leave the glass next to her plate. Who knows if I'll ever have the chance to drink? She thought, drinking a sip, before deciding that wine wasn't her favourite drink in the world. During the time supper was being served, she twirled the glass between her fingers, not liking the idea of wasting food, nor continuing to drink it.
Librae appeared just as the food was finally displayed in front of everyone. In a second, Olive's grasp on the glass completely disappeared as someone took it from her. At her right, Finnick had taken the glass and guzzled the wine, not giving her enough time to complain or say anything.
"Perfect, everyone's here now," Ron said, watching as Librae asked for another glass of wine. She seemed to handle wine perfectly well, even though the considerable quantities she drank. While the supper continued, Olive couldn't help but spare glances towards her right.
Finnick Odair was becoming a living mystery to her. First, he indirectly helped her calm down before the opening ceremony. And now he drank the wine for her. Well, there's no actual proof that he did that to help me. Although, drinking from someone's glass just to annoy them seems rather stupid. I don't think he'd do something like that. She thought, giving up on ever understanding her mentor as she continued eating her meal.
After everyone had finished eating, they sat on the many sofas around the sitting room to watch the replay of the opening ceremony. As always, Districts One and Two had the most spotlight. Four was close behind them, causing everyone to completely ignore Three and most of the other districts.
"All right, you two go to sleep. Tomorrow you have your first day of training. We'll tell you during breakfast how we want you to play it," Librae spoke up, causing Olive to smirk. She was amused at her mentor, who would use her soft gaze to make her tributes lower their guard, so she could analyse them.
Olive got up from her seat on the sofa, although not exactly to go to her room. Instead, she went to the flight of stairs, which she had been told led to the roof. It took a while since she had to go from the fourth floor to pass the twelfth to get to the top. Arriving at the roof, she found herself in a dome-shaped room, which had a door to go outside.
Just as she pushed the door open, the cool wind engulfed her body. She barely had anything to cover herself with. She hadn't thought about it properly, or she would have at least brought a jacket with her. As she reached the side, her eyes took in the beauty of the Capitol, which shined as brightly as a firefly field.
It's so different from home. Olive thought, letting a tear leave her eye as the memories of her home's struggles appeared in her mind. After almost two days, she finally acknowledged how much she missed home. And, as much as she tried to ignore it, how scared she was.
In a place where she knew no one. Where her every move was being watched not only by the Capitol people but also by her own mentors. With the promise of death getting nearer and nearer. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed.
It wasn't only her own survival. She also had to keep in mind that she could end up killing someone. Either in the Cornucopia, somewhere in the middle, or by the final two tributes left. At some point, she would have to kill someone. She would have to become a murderer.
Her hand went to her left ear, where her mother's earring was still missing. She had forgotten to ask Finnick to give it back. Many things had happened in so little time, making her forget her most precious keepsake. The only thing that could remind her of her family and home in a completely foreign place.
With constant tears leaving her eyes, Olive hugged her own body, trying to find some warmth despite still being in the middle of the cool, windy night air. Her hands were shaking, although she wasn't sure if it was because of the impotence she felt or the cold.
"You won't be thinking of jumping off, right? There's a force-field, so I wouldn't try it if I were you," a voice said just as a jacket was laid over her shoulders. Olive tried her best to contain the tears, to at least look at the person, who remained by her side, close enough to stop the flow of wind to come in direct contact with her body.
"Thanks," she muttered, still unsure of whom that person was. Although, as she distinguished a pair of sea-green eyes, she couldn't help but laugh through her tears. Finnick Odair to the rescue. She thought. "Do I look like a damsel in distress to you, or what?"
"In distress? Yes. Damsel? Not so much," he answered with a hint of tease in his voice, causing Olive to chuckle again. "So, what is it? Missing home? Missing your family? Or just plain fear?"
"All of them," she whispered, tears still leaving her eyes from time to time as she went back to look in front of her. "So, a force-field, huh? What's that?"
Finnick laughed softly, shaking his head before explaining what it meant. A sort of barrier that pulled back whoever tried to jump off the edge. She indeed felt tempted to jump, but controlled her urge for her own body's sake.
"It's OK to be scared, you know? It's not like anyone will blame you. We've all gone through this," he spoke after a couple of minutes of complete silence.
"Yeah, but you all survived," she muttered, not finding the strength to speak any louder while her hands gripped his jacket closer to her body.
"We didn't know that at the time. Take me as an example. I was fourteen. The odds weren't exactly in my favour," he insisted, leaning on the rail to have a better look at the lights below them.
"Please, you were already handsome at fourteen. Everyone knew you would win the same moment you appeared at the opening ceremony. You made some ladies faint. That's not something many people can do," she pointed out playfully, remembering Finnick's Games perfectly. Maybe the other tributes hadn't noticed before, but her father claimed it as soon as they saw him in his costume.
"So . . . you considered me handsome after all, huh?" He teased, elbowing her side playfully, as she let out a chuckle. "Since I was fourteen, right? You were thirteen then. My goodness, Olive, what would your father say if he knew you had your eye on a guy from such a young age?"
"Shut up," she breathed, although her lips betrayed her as they quickly curved into a smile.
"Oh, you actually did?" he commented with a smirk plastered on his face, causing her to widen her eyes and look at him.
"Of course not! I admired you, that's all!" She exclaimed, encountering his unwavering smile. "You know what? Think whatever you'd like. I'm going back to my room." She practically ran to the door that led to the stairs, opening the door just as Finnick called her name, making her stop and turn around to see what he wanted. "What?"
"If you're going back, give me back my jacket, please. It's cold up here." He answered, which took her by surprise, causing her to stand still as if she hadn't understood what he meant. "It's not that you look bad with it, you look quite lovely. But I'm cold. And I would like to have it back."
"Shut up," she muttered, taking it off before giving it back.
"You're blushing. Is it because of the cold, or is it because of me?" he whispered when she was close to him. Olive's blush grew slightly and immediately threw the jacket at him, turning around rapidly to open the door to the stairs.
Just as she opened the door, she turned around to face him and shouted, "It's because of the cold!" before leaving hurriedly, leaving Finnick behind on the roof. The jacket was still in his hands, looking with a smug grin towards the stairs, where he saw her black hair disappear in a heartbeat.
"The cold, huh?" he repeated under his breath with a chuckle.