The sun is up, and Dindle is knocking on my door, telling me to get out of my bed. I get up and get dressed. As I make my way down to breakfast, Dindle is chattering aimlessly behind me. I just nod and try to make it look like I'm paying attention.
"So she has the bright idea to have everyone wear feathers to her party, and feathers look absolutely terrible on me and-" the lives of the Capitol people are so ridiculous, it takes effort not to laugh at them.
"Clove? Are you listening to me?" Dindle asks.
"Of course I am!" I insist.
"But why were you just sitting there? Like...you didn't even answer!?" she sounds like she's on the brink of tears.
"I was thinking about it!" I say in an imitation of her.
"Well, no time to think about it, you have a lot of work to do. Let's go!" she says, pulling me away from my latte. I grab it as I go, as I have a feeling I'm going to need it.
She pulls me down the hallway, and I run right into someone. I fall down, my latte gracefully arching up. It's moving slowly, and I grab it.
"Sorry about that!" I apologize as I look into who I ran into. Cato. Of course it had to be him. I fight the confusion that comes at the name, and just live it all down.
"Why did you run?" he asks me. Of course, he's talking about my blitz away from everyone after Katniss's eleven and Glimmer holding his hand. The memory brings a shot of pain through me that the latte can't help.
"I was upset about Katniss's eleven, and I was going to face, but I decided it was a bad idea. I'll just get her in the arena," I lie. A good, solid lie.
"Okay the. We'll get her. I'll let you have her, only if you put on a good show," he says. This makes me happy, although not because I get to kill her, but because he trusts me with it and not Glimmer.
"Thanks. I better go; Dim up there is getting impatient," I say.
"Bye then!" He starts to walk away. I listen to the sound of his footsteps until I can't hear him anymore. I sigh, and I walk towards Dindle.
"Okay, we only have four hours, so let's get to work!" she exclaims.
"Three and a half hours, four lattes, and two pairs of heels have come and gone. I've mastered walking in heels, sitting like a lady, perfect posture, and many other things. I smile until my cheeks hurt, and laugh until she deems it sounds fine.
"Alright, well, I think we've covered everything. You can go now," she dismisses me. I walk out without a word. I walk aimlessly until I find Lyme, my mentor this year. The mentor that was supposed to mentor me died in the middle of winter due to pneumonia. Lyme was the only one who would do it.
She sits there for a few minutes, occasionally mumbling a bit.
"What are you doing?" I ask her.
"I'm deciding who you should be. I'm think you should just be yourself. That's the only thing I think I can do with you."
She asks me questions until I can be interviewed by her standards. We work more on smiling, eye contact, and just being charming. She dismisses me to go to my stylist.
He works on me, adjusting my hair and makeup. He brings out my dress and slips it on. He makes me close my eyes, and walks me over to the mirror. I open my eyes, and I gasp.
I look great. The dress is an orange color, and hits my knees. It's kind of glittery, and reminds me of knife blades. The heels are at least three inches shorter than the one Dindle put me in.
YOU ARE READING
To Be A Career (A Very Clove Story)
FantasyMany believe that Clove, along side her district partner, Cato, was a person of mass destruction. That all she cared about was winning The Hunger Games. In this story, you will finally understand Clove's side of the story.
