A Stylist's Decision

The backstage area of the film studios consisted of a large room with dark walls that resembled a foyer. Adjacent to the main area were other smaller rooms, all of which were accessed via a wide hallway. One of these rooms belonged to Caesar Flickerman, the host of the interviews. The rest were used for storing props, cameras and other equipment.

Effie and Haymitch were in the largest room, sitting on one of the many bright green sofas scattered around. Haymitch had chosen the most secluded sofa and since then had refused to get up and come into contact with other prep teams. He had dismissed her suggestion of speaking to Gloss from District 1 with an icy look. They hadn't exchanged many words since their conversation in the car. Effie had no choice but to sit down next to him with a beaming face, although she would have preferred to drag him to the middle of the wide main area where everyone could see them.

Effie had already seen some shots of the backstage area and had therefore known that it was large. But she hadn't been able to tell from the pictures that it was this enormous. As an architecture graduate, she would have expected more from herself. This room alone was at least three times larger than the stage area combined. But the space was also urgently needed. If you assumed that each tribute had two members of the prep team, then there were already 48 people present just for the makeup. This didn't even include stylists, mentors and escorts. This area already seemed rather small for so many people. For this reason, a prep center had been set up for the tributes and their prep teams a few rooms away, in an old film studio, just for the annual interviews. At that moment, Effie was actually grateful for it. The thought of so many people in this room made her mouth dry. But she wasn't actually claustrophobic. Maybe it was her general nervousness.

On the opposite wall, about thirty meters away, there were a series of screens that would transmit the camera image from the audience when the interviews started. At the moment the news was on. To their left, the room opened up into a wide hallway. Effie and Haymitch had just come from there. Around the corner, several elevators were waiting, which had taken them from the underground car park directly to this level. The state television station had dedicated an entire floor to the Hunger Games, producing masses of content even outside of the season. At the point where the top right corner of the backstage area should have been, a corridor led out to the stage. There, in a few minutes, the tributes would line up in a long, orderly line to enter the scene one after the other. And as if the room were mirrored, on the opposite side, bottom right of where Effie and Haymitch were sitting, an identical corridor led to the other rooms in the backstage area.

While Effie watched the other escorts exchange a few words with each other, as she had wanted to do, she took a look at the interior of the room. The floor was a worn parquet floor that she would have changed long ago in her own apartment. In a public space like this, it probably wasn't worth it. A thick black carpet lay over the parquet floor, which stretched across most of the area, concealing the worst signs of the run-down floor. The light shone down on the two of them from cold LEDs, and when she watched Haymitch out of the corner of her eye, even he looked pale in the harsh white light. A few mirrors hung unevenly on the other walls. An Avox was just using a wet cloth to remove traces of greasy fingernails, makeup residue, and dirt from them. At least hygiene wasn't forgotten under the enormous pressure.

The more time passed, the more people crowded into the backstage area. Soon, a lively murmuring filled the room. With so many bodies moving excitedly back and forth, the temperature rose and Effie slowly began to sweat. An excited murmuring reached them through the passage to the auditorium. On the other side of the stage, more and more people were taking their seats in the audience.

Effie allowed herself a quick glance at the large gold clock that hung right next to the stage steps, where everyone in the main room could see it. Gradually it was time for Elowen and Ramon to be released by their stylists. The first tributes were already gathering with their escorts to receive some final instructions and tips before the show began in a few moments.

They had less than fifteen minutes left. But even Caesar Flickerman was nowhere to be seen. Was that a bad sign? Had something gone wrong that would throw the entire evening's schedule back? There was nothing Effie hated more than being late and having unforeseen events.

The young escort's gaze once again wandered to the doors through which more and more people in colorful evening wear were streaming into the backstage area. Despite this, the enormous room hardly seemed to fill up. Effie recognized the pretty face of Cashmere, who was wearing a short, champagne-colored cocktail dress. From chest to waist it was covered in coin-sized, gold sequins. Effie couldn't help but envy the girl for her stylist. She looked like a sparkling star and so far hardly any other tribute could keep up with her outfit.

Effie's lips pursed involuntarily as Gloss appeared next to his sister. The two were talking in a casual tone, and the young victor gestured with his hands. Cashmere giggled and then turned back. Her blue eyes scanned the people entering the room, obviously looking for someone. Gloss tugged on her arm, forcing her forward, through the crowd of people, most of whom turned to him. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the latest victor.

For a moment, Effie wondered if Haymitch was right about Gloss and Cashmere. Would he really bet all his horses on her and deliberately leave Magnus out ? That would certainly not go down well in his District. But what did she know about District 1? Besides, Cashmere was his sister. Wouldn't Effie do the same for her sister? She had no answer to that question. The very idea of Aurelia being taken as a tribute seemed absurd to her. Such comparisons made no sense because they didn't fit into her world. Still, Haymitch had tried to make it understandable for her. And what if they were your children?

Although everything around her went on as usual, the minutes seemed to pass agonizingly slowly. Effie dared to look at the clock again. Elowen and Ramon should have been here by now. As Effie continued to target each person who walked through the door, her foot tapped an uneven rhythm on the floor.

She was so focused on the entrance that she jumped in shock when Haymitch put his hand on her knee. Her head turned toward him and she could hear a bone crack in her neck. Haymitch must have realized he had startled her because he squeezed her knee and smirked slightly. The look on his face was still dissatisfied, but Effie knew that the dissatisfaction wasn't directed at her.

"Stop being so nervous," Haymitch demanded in a serious tone, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "What are you even worrying about again? Nothing has happened yet."

"That is exactly it," Effie replied, failing to hide her fuss. "There are barely ten minutes until the show and neither Elowen nor Ramon are here yet."

"My goodness, Effie. To have your problems." Haymitch sighed and squeezed her knee again. Effie noticed that he hadn't made any move to remove his hand. She couldn't tell if his skin was as warm as hers, because the layers of tulle prevented any assessment in that direction.

Her blonde hair whipped to the side as Effie looked back toward the entrance. The feeling of her real hair on the back of her neck felt strange and uncomfortable. When Haymitch had told her she looked good earlier, her confidence had soared. But now that they were in a room full of beautiful women, three-quarters of whom were wearing wigs, Effie was no longer at peace with her decision.

"Of course I see a problem," Effie said in a whisper and started tapping her foot again, but this time with the other one. A quiet voice in the back of her head warned her not to damage her heels. "You would not care if our tributes missed their performance."

Effie didn't have to turn her face to see his grin. His body shook once and his hand, still on her leg, transmitted the vibration to her. "It's going to be okay."

"So many things could go wrong." How could he stay so calm? Did he really care so little about his tributes that they could just not show up and he wouldn't care? Effie didn't want to believe that. Somewhere in his head there had to be at least a small part that cared about this whole thing.

"If you let thoughts like that control you, things will go wrong," Haymitch said, in a surprisingly dark tone. It made Effie look up. The expression in his gray eyes was unfathomable.

Unlike her, he didn't seem to be warm. His clothes were still the same light color and although the fabric of his suit was thicker than her dress, Haymitch still reminded her of a haughty ice prince. It was his posture, his charisma, that made him stand out from everyone else in the room. He didn't even glance at any of them, his cold eyes always fixed straight ahead on one of the screens. He leaned casually against the sofa and balanced his right foot on his left leg. Not caring in the slightest what the others would think of his manners. His posture exuded such arrogance that people walked past him and twisted their faces in intimidation, afraid of attracting his attention. This was the Haymitch she knew from television. Cold, arrogant and sarcastic. Nevertheless, he was extremely popular in the Capitol. Hardly anyone could resist a bad boy, especially not the women of the Capitol. Because when he wanted to, he could be quite charming in front of the camera.

Haymitch presented himself as an unapproachable man, and now that she had gotten to know him, she had realized that that was exactly what he wanted to be: unapproachable. He didn't want to be involved in anything that had anything to do with the Games. That was what he had made clear to Effie and the tributes from the beginning. And yet here he was, sitting with her. Somehow she had managed to get through to him, even if it was a mystery to her how.

"Easier said than done," Effie murmured, not taking her eyes off him, but a smile crept onto her lips. Haymitch returned her gaze for several seconds, but without smiling. When he looked at her, the frosty expression disappeared from his eyes. The only thing that remained was a cautious distance that he was usually unwilling to overcome.

His eyes slid past her in a tiny movement and a second later he removed his hand from her knee. Only now, when the pressure of his touch had gone, did she realize it had even been there. With a confused expression, she followed Haymitch's gaze and spotted Elowen in the crowd heading straight toward them. Ramon was walking a few meters behind her, with two Peacekeepers in tow. Effie gave Haymitch one last sideways glance before she rose from the sofa and walked toward her two tributes. She didn't know if Haymitch had followed her until he stopped to her right.

Effie couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as she looked at the children's clothes. Although she had waited for an answer in vain, the stylists had taken her wishes into account. If only partially. Effie still had to suppress a whimper at the sight of Elowen.

The stylists had been very well known that Elowen should be portrayed as innocent, friendly and lovable. The dress the brown-haired girl was now wearing exuded several attributes, but innocence was not one of them. The dark green velvet was decorated with sequins that adorned the dress in wave-like patterns. Similar to Cashmere's dress, it ended at Elowen's knees. But that was not the reason for the astonishment that Effie could hardly contain. Next to her, she heard Haymitch sigh in resignation and thus had her fears confirmed.

Where Elowen's body hadn't yet developed the curves of a grown woman, the stylists had added padding. Her figure appeared much fuller and Elowen therefore much more mature than she could possibly be at thirteen. Added to this was the open cut of the cleavage area, which ran in a V-pattern down to Elowen's midsection.

"I swear I had nothing to do with this," Effie whispered to Haymitch before he could even open his mouth.

Elowen's cheeks were flushed, and it was clear that she was about to burst into tears. Effie gently grabbed her arm and forced a reassuring smile onto her lips. "It is alright, dear," she reassured Elowen as the children came within earshot. "Your stylist did not quite stick to the plan, but you look fabulous nonetheless. The crowd will love you."

The girl was not put off by Effie's farce. "I look so cheap. Like a ... like a ..." Her words hung in the air and everyone was free to make up their own minds. Effie's eyes fell on the ostentatious necklace that hung stiffly and awkwardly over Elowen's chest. The stones were green emeralds that would at least draw some attention away from her cleavage.

"That is a fact we cannot change," Effie finally admitted, squeezing Elowen's arm to shake her out of her fear. "However, there are factors we can still control. Forget your dress. Remember what we have taught you over the last few days. Our strategy remains the same. You smile, act like a lady, and limit yourself to the topics Haymitch has suggested. Caesar has received some of them, he knows what to address."

Effie's words seemed to bring Elowen back down to earth. She nodded eagerly, then smoothed her dress with sweaty hands. "Okay," she stammered in a thin voice, her wide green eyes completely fixed on her escort. "Smiles, manners, and Haymitch's subjects."

"Don't stress," Haymitch said. He had to try to hide the surprise in his tone. It wasn't the first time he had seen Effie's devotion to the children. Still, it always amazed him because he simply didn't expect it. A part of him just couldn't get it into his head that maybe she really only wanted the best for them. "Eyes bright, chins up, smiles on."

Haymitch tried as best he could to ignore the warm look Effie gave him. It was she who had said that exact sentence to Elowen a few days ago, a few moments before they had gotten off the train into a cheering crowd. She probably hadn't expected him to have heard it, let alone remembered it.

Elowen seemed to calm down a bit. This gave Effie and Haymitch the opportunity to scrutinize Ramon more closely. He was dressed in an extravagant black suit, the jacket adorned with oversized medieval-style buttons. Underneath, a black waistcoat and the tip of a burgundy tie peeked out. Anthracite damask-style patterns embellished the surface of the fabric on the jacket, waistcoat, and shirt. A striking silver belt buckle adorned his waist, which Effie thought might have been quite literally below the belt, at least in terms of fashion. However, the outfit suited Ramon perfectly. It reflected his dark aura. The arrogant, almost angry look burning in his eyes emphasized exactly that.

"You have been dressed well by the stylists too," Effie hesitated for a second. "Ash, I assume. Or was it coal?" She turned to Haymitch inquiringly.

"Coal," a smirk had crept onto his face, and he rolled his eyes.

"Very well then. In any case, I am extremely pleased with your outfits. You have nothing to worry about. The audience will adore you, I am sure!" To emphasize the truth in her words, she nudged Haymitch with her elbow so he could assure the children of the same. She had to give him a meaningful look before he understood what she wanted from him.

"I've seen worse," Haymitch admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

"Haymitch." Effie groaned and shook her head. That was definitely not the kind of motivation she wanted to give her tributes. His answer elicited a small smile from Elowen. Effie had to suppress a sigh. The people of District 12 were truly of a special caliber... But as long as Elowen was amused by Haymitch's ignorance, she was fine with it.

"Of course, I had your clothes in mind a little differently, but I guess that is what you call creative freedom," she finally admitted and could see Haymitch grinning out of the corner of her eye. "But I was not lying when I said you were both appropriately dressed. So try to make the best of it." She gave both Elowen and Ramon a long and intense look with serious eyes.

To Haymitch's renewed astonishment, Effie then turned directly to Ramon. "That goes for you too. Please forget your nervousness and show your confidence." Ramon nodded. Haymitch couldn't help but wonder how their hostile relationship had turned into this neutrality in such a short time. The bond between Ramon and Effie was still very fragile. Nevertheless, she had managed to come to some kind of silent agreement with him.

Effie was about to open her mouth again to offer the tributes some more advice when a general murmur went through the main room of the backstage area. The four of them turned in unison to see Caesar Flickerman making his way to the stage steps with casual strides. You could tell he was in a hurry. His feet moved quickly, yet his gait exuded an ease that must have come from years of experience.

Caesar Flickerman had been an indispensable part of the Hunger Games for ages. He had been hosting the interviews for 35 years, and since then his career had taken off. It was no wonder: His father, Lucky Flickerman, was his predecessor, and the Flickermans were one of the Capitol's elite families, like the Snows, Heavensbees, and Cranes. For his almost 60 years, he looked more like a man in Haymitch's time, which was hardly a problem given his family's wealth. He was known for changing his look every year. The color of his wigs and outfits changed from season to season. Sometimes he went with the trend, sometimes he went for something completely daring and started his own trend. This year he had chosen a bright orange-yellow. It reminded Effie of summer in the Capitol, when the blazing sun hung over the city's skyscrapers and you couldn't get out of the scorching hot streets fast enough.

The moderator was easily recognizable by his yellow hair as he turned to everyone involved, smiling, nodding to a few people and shaking hands here and there with those he knew better. These were mostly mentors and escorts from the better Districts and people who had been there for a very long time, like himself.

As Caesar approached the small group from District 12, Effie was able to take a look at his wardrobe. He was dressed head to toe in a honey-gold color. On anyone else, the suit with the wide flared trousers would have looked funny, almost cheap. But this was Caesar Flickerman. What he wore became the new fashion because he was an icon in the scene.

And that's exactly why Effie was speechless when Caesar nodded as he passed and greeted her in a cheery tone. "Miss Trinket."

Her heart almost stopped in surprise. She just managed to catch herself, put on a half-smile and nod back at him, before he had already rushed past her. Several people in her immediate vicinity who had previously not even glanced at her now looked at her as if they had only just become aware of her existence. Effie could hardly contain the triumphant smile that formed on her lips. He probably welcomed every new member of the staff simply because he had been there so long that for many he was the father of the whole event.

Effie's cheeks turned a light shade of red and as Caesar disappeared into the stage entrance, she turned back to her team, only to meet Haymitch's silver eyes, which seemed to be analyzing her every move. He had raised his brows slightly and a wicked grin formed at the corners of his mouth. "He's a little too old for you, sweetheart."

"Haymitch," Effie hissed back, brusquely. His voice hadn't been exactly quiet, and there were enough people in this room who would be only too happy to spread such a rumor just to destroy her reputation.

"Just kidding," Haymitch countered, showing her his teeth. Even Elowen giggled. "If I'd known you actually liked older men, I wouldn't have said anything."

Embarrassed, Effie turned her head away so that he wouldn't be in her face any longer. To her relief, the signal sounded from the stairs, ordering the tributes to take their places. There was no time for Haymitch to embarrass her any further.

-

Haymitch, always a bold joke on his lips. The interviews are around the corner! What do you think about this chapter? Please let me know! :)

Skyllen