10. Pride

                                    

                                          
Pride
"Seems like Seven didn't have much better stylists either," Elowen remarked, almost with relief, as the carriage of District 7 drove out onto the square.
As with the Reaping, the career Districts had left an unpleasant impression. They had brilliant stylists who knew exactly how to present their tributes. Dressed in gold, silver and diamonds, they had attracted the attention of all the sponsors. With the remaining Districts it was balanced. From what you could tell under all the colors and layers of tulle, some seemed to have a pretty good chance, while others seemed hopelessly lost from the start.
"The poor dogs from Nine," Haymitch murmured as he took a sip from his silver flask. "With all that straw, it must have been really itchy."
The camera zoomed in on the couple in question, and one could tell from their contorted faces and tense body language that their hands would rather be somewhere else. To his surprise, Elowen laughed. "Yeah, it really must have been."
As quickly as lightning, Effie's eyes shot to Haymitch, who looked back at her coldly. Contrary to his expectations, the corners of her mouth formed a small smile. She looked away, casting a caring glance at the girl sitting right beside her.
Again, her behavior left a questioning blankness in Haymitch's mind. He couldn't draw any conclusions from her. One second she was Capitol through and through, but then for those few moments she transformed into a completely different person. Haymitch hadn't meant to be funny. He had just wanted to make a sarcastic comment like he usually did, after all, he did that all the time. He certainly hadn't meant to make his tribute laugh.
"There you are at last." Petunia's disinterested comment brought Haymitch back to reality.
The carriage pulled out of the tunnel and the sunlight hit the two tributes. Elowen looked completely distorted in her red sequined dress. Her eyes were wide, and she looked as if she would be led to the slaughter at any moment. The fear was clearly written on her face. Ramon next to her radiated the exact opposite. His gaze was dark and anger burned in his eyes. He did exactly what he had done the day they arrived at the Capitol: he ignored the roaring crowd.
Effie sighed to herself. "And, how was I?" Elowen asked, raising her eyes towards her. Haymitch followed Elowen's gaze and tried to read Effie's thoughts in her eyes. For a moment he saw a flicker of resignation, but the expression disappeared as quickly as it came.
Effie opened her mouth to answer the girl, but Petunia beat her to it. "Nothing special for District Twelve. You will not be remembered, child," the older woman explained unimpressed and crossed her legs without even looking at Elowen.
For a moment, Elowen simply stared straight ahead, the television reflecting in her green eyes. Haymitch could only imagine what was going on in her head right now. Petunia could have hit her in the face with the palm of her hand and the pain would have been the same. The pain Elowen was feeling right now was probably even worse. Death suddenly seemed even more real to her than it already did.
"Why, no," Effie blurted out, her voice rising several octaves. She turned to Elowen and stroked her shoulder reassuringly. Then the corners of her mouth turned up into a small smile. "This was your second time in public and you certainly were not just average. We will coach you until the interviews and then you will convince them all."
Petunia snorted indignantly and Haymitch couldn't help but grin. The old woman was a dragon and treated everyone condescendingly. Even Effie. Until now she had always endured it with friendly manners. It was the first time that she contradicted her predecessor, although not directly.
"How do you know that?" Elowen whispered, barely audible, but not in an unfriendly tone. A tear rolled down her cheek and she bowed her head. Her fingers played with the corners of her dark gray dress.