The Life of A Victor || Finnick Odair

CHAPTER 18

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As the ripping sound made its presence again, Dove kept her mouth shut, trying not to yell the to stop. It had been two hours since the torture had begun. At least, this is the last step until I meet my stylist. Dove thought.

"You're doing so great!" Neari, a woman from her prep team, encouraged her. She had her black skin filled with tiny white tattoos. Her face, however was a tad different, since there were fewer tattoos, and they were a golden colour.

"The youngest tributes are always the ones who whine the most. It's unbearable, it's a good thing District Four barely has any of them." Quedell, the only male member of her prep team, complained. His light blue hair was in an odd position, it almost looked like a wig. Dove wanted to ask if they were in charge of the last year's girl, but she didn't want to get mad at them so early in the day.

"Perfect! Let's call Ohan!" Mareshah, the last member of the team, exclaimed in excitement. Her skin wasn't as dark as Neari, but it got pretty close. All her prep team had a darker skin than her. It wasn't too complicated since Dove's skin almost resembled a blank paper.

The team left the room in a hurry. Dove looked around, only white walls and floor, nothing special. To her astonishment, Quedell had confessed to her, they weren't allowed to even touch her hair. Which now was in a loose side-braid, that she had to do herself since the team were scared to go against orders. They had asked her to braid it for the comfort of reaching to her back without pulling her hair in the process.

The door opened, revealing a young man. Contrary to Dove's initial thoughts, he wasn't as extravagant as the others from her prep team were. He had few tattoos around his left arm, most were sea-related. His dark brown hair reached his shoulders, and his grey eyes stood out thanks to the soft dark make-up he wore around them.

"Hello, Dove. I'm Ohan, your stylist," he said rather quietly for a Capitol person. "Hi," she answered with the same tone. Ohan circled around her once, analysing her.

"You're the new one, aren't you? I've never seen you around in Four," Dove spoke up, the silence in the room was getting her awfully nervous.

"Yes, this is my first year in the Games." he replied once he was done staring at her.

"They gave you District Four, Career district. You must be proud, but maybe Two would be better," she spoke again.

"I asked for District Four. Put on the robe, we'll go to another room to have a chat," Dove did as he said, still wondering why he would have chosen District Four over Two. As he guided her until a sitting room.

Through the glass wall she noticed it was nearly noon. Then, as Ohan sat on one of the room's couches, he pressed a button making dinner appear in front of them. Funny, wasn't it? People in her own District and others were starving and here they had a button that made food appear.

I've never found myself in the situation of starving since I was found at the beach, so I am probably not the best to talk. Dove thought. "You're a strange career tribute," Ohan said, mostly to himself. Her eyes went to his, trying to understand why he had told her that.

"Doesn't matter. So, Dove, about your costume. My partner, Kala, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Edric. And our idea for you two is to dress similar but not in complementary attires," Ohan says. "Kala wanted a more attractive approach to her tribute, to which I didn't agree for you. But, as you know, it's customary to reflect the flavour of the district."

So. . . I'll be a fish. Dove thought bitterly, not liking the idea, although it was better than being half naked.

"Have you ever heard of mermaids and goddesses?" Ohan asked her. Dove remember once reading a fairy tale about a mermaid, but the fairy tales were hard books to come by, since those were scarse, even District Four had a hard time to get them.