A Victor's Valor | F. Odair

F O U R

T R I B U T E S ' P A R A D E

What is essential is invisible to the eye.

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"Be careful!" Juliet screamed through her teeth, clutching the edge of the table she was seated at as Wendy, a woman with pink hair, pulled a strip of fabric on her leg to pull the hair out.

She'd been in the Remake Center for hours and a headache was starting to form because of these colorful, squeaking people.

"That was the last one, dear!" She exclaimed, scuttling off to throw the strips away and came back with a bottle of lotion. Juliet was sore all over, feeling like her skin has been scraped off from earlier scrubbing and she was exhausted from holding her breath to hold the pain because of the waxing part.

"It'll relieve the skin, don't worry." Elly, a woman with green hair, spoke when she saw Juliet's wary expression on the bottle. It was true. The moment it was applied, she had to close her eyes and a small sigh escaped her lips.

"That feels nice." She mumbled making the prep team giggle. She opened them again when Elly squeaked to take her thin robe off. Vince, a man with thick blue eyebrows, had three small tweezers in his hand as he walked towards them. Together, the three surrounded her to remove any excess hair.

"There!" They stepped back and equal grins stretched across their faces.

"Thank you." She whispered. It fell from her lips because it was all over at last but the three beamed as if to say 'you're welcome.'

"Cheryl better be pleased!" Wendy cried as they darted out of the door. She was relieved the squealing people finally left.

Juliet sat, eyes flickering across the room when the door opened and this Cheryl walked in. She saw her a couple of times on television, usually among the crowd. Her impression of Cheryl was someone who was desperate to cling on to youth. The woman was plump but had towering heels, a pointed nose, huge ring earrings, rings on each finger, pale yellow hair but with bright highlights, and she wore a silver sparkling jumpsuit. It hurt to even look at her. She looked like a disco ball.

But to think of it, she would at least pretty if it weren't for the sneer etched permanently on her face like there was something foul underneath her nose. She said shortly, "You must be Juliet. I'm Cheryl, your stylist."

"Hello." Juliet deadpanned. She didn't like this woman. And Cheryl proved the feeling was mutual when her eyes narrowed.

"Put your robe on, we need to have a chat." Juliet complied, following the woman out to a sitting room. The sitting room was dim with a dark green glow because of the massive emerald curtains and there was a thick white rug on the floor. She silently slipped through the couch and even though there were couches face each other, a low table separating them, Cheryl chose to sit beside her, keeping a small distance between them.

Juliet didn't like the Capitol. She wasn't easily fooled by the bright colors, scrumptious food, and elegant buildings. It was very sickening if you'd think about it. Her family wasn't poor but they weren't exactly rich either. But there were some parts in 4 that would kill to have a decent meal and the fact that the Capitol had more than enough which they gained from the help other districts was very disturbing. Injustice was at its peak; the poor were made poorer and the rich were only made richer.

And yet, she chose to say nothing. She simply failed to see how thinking about it would help her win. And Finnick was right, she needed to have a clear mind today.