Firecracker: The 99th Games Book One

Meeting the Stylists, Districts 1-3

District 1

Was it arrogant of Cerys to assume his appointment with his stylist team would be short? Probably, but he couldn't help but feel a little proud of the one skill he had cultivated all this time.

Mercy walked next to him and on the opposite side of the hallway from Chou and their Escort, Aimi Kobayashi. As grateful as Cerys was for her company, he was sad on Chou's behalf that their Mentor paid hardly any attention to her.

"I am not looking forward to seeing this b*tch again," Mercy muttered. "If she makes you too uncomfortable, just blink twice at me and I'll punch her. I can get away with it since I'm a Victor."

Cerys blinked at her. "...Who exactly is our head stylist?"

"A pervy little sh*thead named Audrey Edwards," Mercy sighed. "Every year she ogles the guys. Usually reminding her most of them are kids will get her to back off, but..." She frowned worriedly at Cerys. "That excuse won't work for you anymore. Fair warning, she might try to send you down the parade without a shirt."

Cerys withheld a heavy sigh. "That's alright, darling. I'm used to it."

Mercy practically glared at him. "That's not a good reason to let her do whatever she wants. Seriously, if she pushes it too far, I'll take care of her. Okay?"

Cerys smiled reassuringly at her, eyes hiding a layer of exhaustion. "Okay. But I really don't think you'll have to worry."

"Too late," Mercy said firmly. "I'm worrying."

Chuckling, Cerys merely nodded. Admittedly, he was glad Mercy was around to step in if things got too frisky. He didn't actually like being objectified, surprisingly.

As the group approached the stylists, a woman near the front of the team glanced over at them, pausing to wrap up a conversation before taking a few steps towards the group. She wore heavy makeup to hide her plain face, the slight wrinkles making her seem at least middle-aged. Her hair and eyes were both brown, a chocolate color that would have looked warm on anyone else. Instead, her thin lips and small eyes made her appear strangely calculating.

"So these are our tributes?" she guessed, eyes landing on Mercy for a second. She couldn't hold back a frown. "Hello again, Mercy."

"Hello again, b*tch," Mercy replied, stepping closer to Cerys protectively.

The woman's eye twitched. "Still alone this year, I see."

Mercy glared at her. "I've never minded being alone."

"That must be why you keep letting our tributes die," the woman muttered, barely audible. It was audible enough to Mercy, who visibly winced. To comfort her, Cerys secretly reached for her hand. She took it, maintaining a stone cold facade.

"My name is Audrey," the woman said, louder, now smiling serenely at the two tributes. "I'll be in charge of styling you for the parade. Let's start over here..."

Muttering to herself, she stepped over to Chou, who stood alert and straight-backed as Audrey examined her. Audrey circled Chou twice, then stood in front of her, looking her up and down a bit.

"You have an athletic figure," she observed. "Wide shoulders, wide hips. We should dress you to try and narrow your shoulders. We can draw attention to your hips with some optical illusions to make your waist seem narrower; I'm thinking garnet embellishments will match your hair and make your eyes seem redder. Maybe we can make it look like you're surrounded by roses? Hmm..."