Welcome to the fifteenth chapter of the Untold Hunger Games.
I'm Back! I'm so it took me so long to finally return but I had a lot of issues this month. Thankfully, nothing to do with the virus that has been affecting the world. Just common issues. Unfortunately, one of those issues was a major case of writers block. That's why it took me so long to come back. Thank you all for being so patient with me.
Warning: the first few paragraphs of this chapter do have some slightly graphic images.
You have been warned, now onto Chapter Fifteen of the Untold Hunger Games.
That night I had a strange dream. No, now that I think about it was more disturbing than strange.
I was hunting. My bow had been slung over my shoulder with Rue and Prim beside me. We had spoken little as we were tracking something in the woods. I had stopped, my eyes on my prey. My hand had reached for an arrow and I shot it.
'You got it!' Prim had exclaimed, rushing over to the fallen prey with an arrow in its chest. She had pulled out a hunting knife and slit the prey's throat with a smile on her face that was so unlike Prim.
Rue had started hopping up and down in glee, 'I get to kill the next one!' she had exclaimed, running over to Prim's side to strip our prey. I had come up behind them and looked down at into eyes of the man I loved. Blood dripping from his mouth and my expression had been deadpanned and uncaring.
That was when I had woken up with a scream. I was sweating as I looked around my unfamiliar room with the sounds of mockingjays coming from the window beside me. I took in a few deep breaths, that dream had frightened and disturbed me so much. I knew it wasn't real, Prim and Rue were nothing like that. They weren't blood hungry monsters, they were gentle sweet natured girls who didn't want to do harm to anyone. And myself? I wasn't so cold and unfeeling as I had been in the dream. I had thought of Peeta as prey and that chilled me to my very core.
I looked at the clock, it read 5:15 am. Too early for sunrise and too late to return to sleep. I knew my prep team would be entering my room in less than fifteen minutes to begin the gruelling eleven hours of prep work for the interview tonight at 7:00 pm. I knew I was not looking forward to anything that was to come today. No sunset with Peeta, in fact Haymitch had told us before bed that we wouldn't be leaving our rooms at all today. Everything, breakfast, lunch and prep work, would all be done in our rooms. I wouldn't even get to see Peeta until 6:30 pm, the time we would be rushed into the elevator and brought down to the ground floor.
I decided to get ready for my team, pulling off the covers first and then regretfully taking off my comfortable silk pajamas. As an afterthought I also pulled off all my underwear and slipped into my housecoat. I had a feeling my giddy prep team would want me naked for all the preparations they had in store of the first two and a half hours of body preparation they would put me through.
At precisely 5:30 am my prep team, without knocking, came into my room in a bustle of energy that no sane people should have this early in the morning. As Octavia turned off the forest on my window, Flavius and Venia practically pushed me into the bathroom, exclaiming wildly that they needed to start cleaning my body before they could get to work on the first part of my grooming for the interviews.
The attention they paid to my skin and hair wasn't as grueling as a few days ago, but back then I had just arrived and had never taken a real shower before. Now I had taken one every day and night. My hair was more smooth and untangled, Flavius had even commented on how much more alive my hair felt then when we had first met. It seemed this time that the grooming done today was only a small portion and the main act my team was focusing on was starting the foundations for whatever Cinna would finish later tonight.
As Octavia sharpened and polished my nails and Venia braided strands of gold, fire oranges, reds and yellows into my hair, Flavius powdered my face lightly with a luminescent powder that made my skin glow in the lamp light. It was then I asked him, "Won't all this fade before the interviews even start? I mean. I'm a little nervous and the makeup might be sweated off before Cinna even arrives."
The three giggled at my remark, "The makeup is sweat resistant, long lasting and you can even eat with it on, dear. The only way you'll get this off is with the special remover gel." Flavius assured me then scolded me for talking when he was trying to apply lip gloss to my unfortunately chapped lips. I got a bit of a scolding for that too.
The three of them had me at their mercy until Effie Trinket walked into the room with a trolley laden down with trays filled with food, plates, cutlery, cups and jugs filled with drink, "Breakfast." she exclaimed in her bubbly accent.
My preparations, though my team had explained they were done their part, were pushed aside as the five of us sat down on the couches to eat our breakfast of hard boiled eggs, lightly crisped bacon, maple sausages, bread rolls (of course) and fresh fruit with juice, hot chocolate and/or wine to wash it down. As we ate Effie Trinket explained what we would be focusing on during my time with her.
Since Victoria had stopped her duties as mentor, the escorts of District Twelve had stood as acting mentors for the female tributes. It was the way it had been done during the first twenty or so games. Haymitch would be mentoring me but he had to divide his time between me and Peeta. So Effie Trinket and he would switch mentoring after lunch. He had done this since he had become a mentor 24 years ago.
"I believe we'll start with properly walking in heels in a floor length gown. I've seen you in heels dear, and I must say you'll need the practice." She stated, dapping her mouth with a napkin.
The time in the heels was awful. She made me walk around my room in a floor length gown with five-inch heels. Every time I made a mistake she pursed her lips, and advised me on the proper way to present myself. She actually slapped my hands when I brought the hem of my dress up too high.
"Not above the ankles. It's improper for a young lady to bring her hem up above her ankles." She snapped angrily. Was she still living in the Stone Age? "Watch me once again."
She had also put on a similar gown after breakfast and began to walk up and down the small staircase to and from my bed, the hem of her gown never went higher than her ankles. I didn't understand how she was able to accomplish that without tripping over the fabric.
Finally, after 45 more minutes of inpatient instruction, I mastered walking, but there was still sitting, posture – apparently I have a tendency to duck my head – eye contact, hand gestures and smiling – which was basically about smiling more. Effie Trinket had me saying different phrases starting with a smile, completing and saying the phrase while smiling, and ending the entire session with a smile.
My cheek muscles and jaw were so sore by lunch, I could barely eat the meal of breaded chicken, steamed vegetables and cream sauced pasta an Avox had brought us.
"Well, I did my best." Effie Trinket said with an exaggerated sigh. "Just try and be likeable, Katniss."
"Because that's my specialty," I said sarcastically and harshly, topping it all off with an eye roll. I smirked when I saw her lips purse. I think that gesture was more satisfying to see when I wanted to upset her.
"At least your Haymitch's problem now." She muttered, exiting the room just as the same man she had muttered about stepped into the room. She gave him a curt hello before gracefully storming off to the other side of the hallway and into Peeta's room.
"Whatever you said to her, don't apologize, she probably deserved it." He joked and sat down across from me, leaning back in the seat.
I looked at him and waited, and waited, and waited. I felt frustrated as he just sat there staring at me for about five minutes doing nothing but staring… that is until I yelled at him. "What?"
"I'm trying to find the right approach to your character for the interviews. Are you likable, humorous, determined, charming? So far we have you shining like a star. Your reaping, the opening ceremonies, the score for training. They all have made you extremely popular with the Capitol, but the people want to know the inner Katniss. Unfortunately, you seem to be an unlikable girl who doesn't want to be here, and I for one know that's true." Haymitch said the words calmly to me, "Course, only the Careers really want to be here."
I chuckled at that and then a thought came to my mind that I probably already knew the answer to. "What's Peeta's approach?"
"Likability. He seems to be able to be humorous naturally." Haymitch informed me, but as I thought, I had already known that. "Let's try a few questions, shall we?"
And he began with some mock questions, but the further we went the more useless it seemed. Haymitch was very determined to make me seem like a person who people will like, but soon he stopped me. We tried humble, but that didn't work as well as we hoped. Cocky? No I'm just not arrogant enough. I have too much vulnerability for ferocity. I'm not witty, funny, sexy – of course that was a long shot – or mysterious – I already knew that one before we even started.
Haymitch gave up after humorous and went to pour himself a drink of wine that Effie Trinket had left on the trolley, "I just can't seem to figure you out. You can't act, sure you follow directions properly but you get defensive everytime we try a new approach." He shook his head, before sitting back down on the couch, "Only thing I can think of is that you be yourself, but I'm worried you might insult half the audience."
I laughed at that remark and leaned my head back, "What did you do for your interviews?"
He smirked a little, almost looking amused by my question, "I was sarcastically humorous. I answered questions in ways that would make the audience laugh. Victoria thought it would look good for the sponsors since I needed to make an impression. You see, I went dead last among a group of 52 tributes. The Capitol thought it was impolite to let Thirteen go last since three out of the four tributes that year were the children of overseers. 'Course that doesn't mean they won't have Diane and Trevor go last this year. Thirteen always goes after Four and the Capitol likes to keep it that way." He rose then just as Cinna entered my room, holding a dress bag in his hand and a duffle bag over his other shoulder, "Looks like that's my que to leave." He smirked at Cinna, "Make her look unforgettable Cinna."
My stylist chuckled his farewell, "Of course, but I don't think she needs my help with that." Haymitch's chuckle lingered while Cinna stepped towards me, his hand motioning to the bathroom, "Shall we?"
Cinna worked wonders in the hour he had with me. He turned my skin to glowing satin with flecks of gems on my left arm, just below my left shoulder. He had lightly painted flame designs on my twenty perfect nails. He weaved in my braided hair carefully in the front and then made a loose continuous braid and pinned it to the hair underneath. He placed several small, sparkly aurous jeweled barrette clips into the intricately weaved braid. As a finishing touch he left two small pieces of hair hanging loosely on each side of my make-up encompassed face.
My face was covered with a pale, iridescent foundation, and then my features were redrawn. Huge dark, mysterious eyes, full red shiny lips, and lashes that reflected the light when I blinked.
"Shall we put on the dress?" He asked, receiving a simple nod from me. He slowly unzipped the bag hanging on the bathroom's many hooks. Inside was the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. It was red and simple but that just made it more beautiful. It was a single strapped gown, covered with flecks of glistening gold. When I put it on, it felt like I had just gained forty pounds.
"What makes it so heavy?" I inquired.
"There's panels of the synthetic fire sewn into the hem. They give it a flare when you twirl, or should I say flame." Cinna smiled, the gold in his eyes twinkling with his humor.
I stepped into the shoes, which were only two inches high. Thank God. Cinna allowed me to look in the floor to ceiling mirror in the bathroom. I gaze in amazement at my reflection. I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun. For a while I just stood there with Cinna gazing at my transformation from Katniss Everdeen to the girl on fire.
The gems on my arm came up just above the strap and just below it. My skin glowed from whatever my team put on me. My hair was flawless. I felt like I could cry. "Cinna," I whispered, "Thank you."
"I couldn't do it Cinna, no matter what we tried." I burst out after walking around the room several times. "I just can't be someone else."
"Then don't." Cinna explained. "Just be yourself and people will adore you. I already do, and look at how little amount of time I've been with you."
"Haymitch says that I'm an unlikable girl who doesn't want to be here." I retort, and that made Cinna laugh a little. "What?"
"With Haymitch you are unlikable. You're a girl who was taken from your home to save your sister. But if you take all that away, you'll find a beautiful, confident, amazing, spirited young woman who has won the heart of the Capitol, and a young boy whose name we both know." Cinna took my hand in his and said to me gently. "When you're up there pretend you're answering the question as if I'm the one asking them. I'll be sitting in the front row with the other stylists, so just look at me when you answer the questions. Alright?" He looked into my eyes, and the gold eyeliner he wore danced in the light, making it impossible not to look at him and see the kindness in his soul. After all, eyes are windows to the soul.
I nodded whilst Cinna led me out of the room with his hand on the small of my back. It took little time to meet up with the rest of the District Twelve team at the elevator. Portia and her prep team had done a wonderful job with Peeta. He looked amazing, stunning, and breathtaking in a black suit with flames on his sleeves and red trimming on his collar and pants. Cinna and Portia had obviously styled us to match.
When the elevator opened to the ground floor, all the tributes were already being lined up to go on stage. We would be sitting in an arch on the stage and would remain there until Peeta finished his interview. Soon Caesar Flickerman introduces us and we all walk up the seemingly never-ending steps. Let the interviews begin.