HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 7

Friday night, they tried on their refurbished dresses at Lilith's. The invitation to Dr. Gaul's retirement bash had come too rushed for anything to be commissioned from scratch, as was the standard practice for significant occasions. In other words: when their attendance would be assured, if not required—namely, at relatives' weddings or birthdays of family and close friends—and could be planned in advance.

Despite their social statuses, even Lilith and Olympia weren't regulars at such functions. While parties had regained fashionability for almost ten years now, most adults—as if the trio weren't all perfectly of age—had written them off as kids because: (a) they had been at the start, and (b) since they were still in school now. Like actual children, they were thus frequently omitted from guests lists. There had been plenty of university soirées, no doubt, and homecoming and graduation dances back at the Academy, but those were mostly all-student events. This would be their first real taste of Capitol society.

Hoping to find something off the shelves, they'd gone shopping the Saturday prior, but nothing caught their fancy. They seemed to be at that frustrating age where the teen section was too childish and the adult category too mature; everything just looked wrong.

In the end, they'd sieved through their wardrobes for pieces that could be brought back to the boutiques to be redone. This was a service common amongst even the most high-end of fashion houses, established in the days after the war, when glamour-deprived citizens had thirsted for couture but wastage had still been deemed nothing short of immoral. With the return of prosperity, it had seen a gradual decline in clientele, but there was still a substantial demand that it hadn't needed to cease. After all, the exact same gown never really saw more than one ball.

Powder blue and princess-regal, Athena's outfit had been her nineteenth birthday's. Back then, Swiss dots and capped sleeves were all the rage. Now, the trend was prints and glitter—not necessarily together, naturally. As the sort of expert amongst them, Lilith recommended for both outdated features to be removed. Still in superb condition, the underlying chiffon bodice and organza skirt had only to be studded with rhinestones, which she directed to be concentrated around the bust and tapering out beneath the waistline. An excellent choice, if Lilith did say so herself. Athena's well-endowed chest lent the tightly-packed crystals a dramatic three-dimensional effect, and when she twirled, stars spun with her.

Olympia's dress was from that same year; she had worn it to Athena's birthday bash. Statements of style were never made through her clothing, though, and the rich, midnight green velvet hugger was as timeless as could be a century ago. Still, a ton of changes had been put in: practically all of the back ridded, and down the left side of the skirt a split that erased all traces of its original mermaid silhouette.

Lilith's only contribution—potential modifications of the halter neckline that might not have held given how little fabric Olympia wanted remaining—had not materialized, because the alterations specialist handling Olympia's piece had performed magic and defied even gravity. Propriety too, as a matter of fact, as the opening she'd slit went so high up Olympia's flawless thigh she was either wearing invisible underwear or no underwear.

Only Lilith's ensemble had been new—a design she'd had made herself. It didn't belong to any of the brands along the Corso, but that had only been a problem until she requested real Aurora diamonds as embellishments. It wasn't everyday that people asked for quarter-carats in bulk, and from the most prestigious jeweler in all of Panem, whose namesake happened to be Lilith's paternal grandaunt.

When she told them to put it on her tab, the Friend store manager seemed to recognize her—his attitude transformed one hundred and eighty degrees. Essentially elbowing his subordinates aside, he offered an apologetic smile and served them personally until all their orders had been duly noted. "Yes, Miss Gold" and "Of course, Miss Gold" had been repeated about a million times in that hour. He even walked them to Lilith's car afterward, to which Olympia offered a sarcastic, "Such wonderful service. We mustn't forget to tell Fabiola Friend, Miss Gold."