Silence [The Hunger Games]

Chapter Seventeen

I was practically dragged out of bed the next day by Leonie. I really didn’t want to get up, but Leonie insisted it was important that I made an impression that day. I threw on some clothes and followed Leonie to the Remake Centre, where I spent a good part of the day. Annabella did my hair, a plait that circled my head like a crown, and then formed a twisted knot on the back of my head. Felix worked on my nails, making them rounded and smooth before painting them black and adding patterns and swirls to my thumbs. Leonie did my makeup, sweeping brushes effortlessly across my face, until she was certain she had it right. It was similar to the makeup I wore for the opening ceremonies, with my eyes brought out with dark makeup, and relatively pale lipstick.

 Leonie took me through to a separate room to have my dress fitted. I closed my eyes as she put it over my head. I was relieved to discover that it wasn’t as tight as the one I had worn to practise in the day before. The shoes were quite high, but after practicing with Eli, I was confident that they wouldn’t be a problem. When I opened my eyes, I squealed in delight. The dress was made of leather and lace, with a fitted leather bodice and short skirt. The lace acted as straps for the dress, covering the bare skin above my chest, and stretching over my arms to act as sleeves. The lace itself was beautiful, completely black and with an intricate floral pattern. I felt amazing. Unstoppable. Sophia entered and nodded in approval.

 “You look stunning. Just beautiful. Give me a sexy smile?”

 I laughed and imitated Logan’s signature smile. Leonie cracked up, and Sophia smiled.

 “Good. You’re ready. Let’s go!”

 We met the others at the elevator. I was shy to see Logan again after the way I behaved the previous night, but he just hugged me and I whispered sorry to him. He said he was too, and that was that. I took his hand when we got in the lift, squeezing it tight as we plummeted downwards. I took the time to look at Logan. His outfit was a lot simpler than mine, just black leather trousers and a white shirt, but the shirt hung loose and three of the top buttons were undone, giving him a rugged, yet desirable, image. I was reminded of the day at the fence, when he wore his reaping outfit in a messy way, and still managed to look amazing. Though he wore minimal makeup, his blue eyes had been highlighted by blue eyeliner, and it gave the illusion that his eyes were sparkling. I resisted the urge to touch his hair, to pull him to me and tell him that I loved him. I don’t mean in that way. But he needed to know, and I would always live my life regretting that I never followed my instincts and held him to me that day.

 The elevator slowed to a stop, and we piled out of the doors. Already, Clementia and a few of the others were seating themselves on the stage. The stage had twenty four chair arranged in a semi-circle around a central couch, where the presenter, Venus Swift, and the tribute being interviewed would sit. I caught sight of Venus, chatting in an animated voice to one of the camera men. She was a beautiful, charismatic woman, who everyone in Panem loved. Even I loved her. She had a certain vibe that made people admire and desire her. She wasn’t particularly slim, which was a characteristic that Capitol women craved, but she looked good in whatever she wore. That particular night, she was in an aqua coloured suit, which contrasted with her bright red hair and pale skin. Still holding on to Logan, after a good natured shove from Valeria, I scaled the steps to the stage and sat down on my seat. I looked at Logan, who did a very funny imitation of Eli doing the squat, and I laughed, feeling much less nervous. When Logan was sat down as well, he leaned over the arm of his chair, grinning.