A Golden Dove

The Capitol

"We need to work on your image. You did well at the Reaping, but I want to take another step. Your age is your advantage so that's where we'll start."

The goosebumps on Lilac's arms were persistent, even as she tried desperately to ignore them. Cashmere had come in moments earlier, while her brother Gloss swept Sterling to another train car. Not before the boy managed to wink at her, only riling her nerves that had been growing rapidly in the pit of her stomach. He certainly knew how to get under her skin, and though she was still confident about winning the games, her thoughts started to drift towards his warm blood on her cold hands. 

"My age? Other than an advantage over the younger tributes, how does that change anything?"

"The Capitol thinks of you as... an object for their viewing pleasure. They will find ways to bend every appearance to their will, so it's best to give them what they want. At least in the beginning. They, however, are not your main audience to please. President Snow watches every Hunger Games... He chooses a tribute as his favorite. Lucky for you, he tends to shoot for tributes from the Career districts. So, we need him and them to perceive you as strong. Alluring. Not too far from reach, which will require some... uncomfortable things. But you want to go home, and I intend to get you there, so I need you to trust me."

The blonde woman before her was ethereal. Confident, and unwavering. Like she knew exactly what she was talking about, and Lilac supposed she did. Victors don't come out of the arena by mere luck. Watching her speak though, it was different than she imagined. Lilac thought her mentor would be hardened by her experiences in the games. The world. But the woman before her was as kind-hearted and strong as the world thought she was. She genuinely wanted to help Lilac, and for some reason, that was harder to digest than the fact that she'd be a killer in the next few days.

"Okay, that sounds good, what about in the arena?"

"Until we can ensure your image, that will be the least of our concerns. You're trained. Top of your class, from what I'm told. The arena should be your last concern, except for when you're in training, but until then... sponsors."

-

The train ride didn't last long, an hour at most, but Lilac was certain there wasn't a moment of quiet between herself and her mentor. Between discussing imaging strategies and arena strategies, after Lilac had pushed Cashmere for insight, they were in the Capitol and ushered out of the trains to where they'd be staying.

It was a lavish room on the ground floor of the tall building, where Lilac and Sterling had only moments to gawk at the grandeur of it before they were pulled away by stylists and Avoxes. They were mute as they stripped her down and rinsed her, all in preparation for the parade tomorrow, and she couldn't help the blush that formed on her fair skin at the indecency of the whole thing. Not that she had anything to be embarrassed about, Lilac knew she was a beauty.

A sheer robe was shoved on her, and they sat her in a chair where they started on her hair. She tried to object when she smelt bleach, but they only shoved her back down and painted the color on. For hours she sat there, exposed to the workers and cringing at the potency of the smell on her hair, but she let them work. After they rinsed her hair, they laid her down on a chilling metal table and shaved hair she didn't know she had, and put bleach on the hairs that she'd rather not mention for the sake of her modesty.

Through it all, only the sound of breathing and Lilac's pained shrieks and gasps filled the room. It was tense and awkward and surely the most uncomfortable Lilac had been in her entire life, but she held her tongue.

That might've been the longest day of her life because even after all of that she stayed sat, standing, or sitting for hours longer. Lilac was certain the sun had already gone down, and her lack of movement or exercise in hours was making her antsy. After her hair was taken care of she was pulled to a dressing room where a stylist named Rosemary dressed her in a beautiful red dress, longer and more beautiful than the one she wore to the Reaping, yet similar in color.