Fire? Is she trying to kill me? Then, I wonder about Katniss. Where is she? Did they tell her about the fire, too?
"Is she okay?" my voiced cracked.
"She's in the hands of the best styles in the capital" Portia smiles at me. "She'll be alright."
"Okay" I whisper. "Good."
"Gale, I just want you to know something. You need to promise me that you will believe me when I say, I'm here for you. Anything you need, I'm here. Alright?"
"Alright." I don't know if I can actually trust her, but I can try.
"I mean it, Gale. I'm not who I look like."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I haven't always lived in the Capitol all of my life. I was born in District 12, in the Seam. Both of my parents died when I was just 15. I ran away from home, came to The Capitol, made a life for my self here. When Haymitch was in the Games, the 50th Games, the 2nd Quarter Quell, President came to my apartment. Then I just drew designs in my sketch book, a girl with dreams.
"He said he had seen my drawings, and wanted me for a stylist. I said okay. I had no idea how he had seen my drawings, I never showed them to anybody, but I didn't ask. I was Haymitch's stylist. I know what District 12 really goes through. After Haymitch, I never wanted to do any District but 12. I love turning a tribute into a victor, like Haymitch, but, as you know, we haven't had much luck. I've had this feeling inside of me since you and Katniss volunteered. You two are something special. So, Cinna, the other stylist, and I decided to do something special, in honor of you two. Something no one has ever done before."
I don't know what to say. I cant believe that my stylist came from District 12, the same place I came from, but never will return to.
"Portia?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. I just want to let you know that, I wont be coming back to District 12 with you for the Victory tour. Katniss is. I have made it my mission to protect Katniss, even if it means dying. After the Games, could you make sure she knows that..." I hesitate. "That... That... I love her?"
"Gale, Katniss already knows that you love her. I saw it in her eyes when you volunteered. Believe me. She knows." She smiles at me.
"Please don't tell anybody, though. They don't need to know about this. Not until I am dead so nobody will mock me," I say.
"Okay. I promise I wont tell. just tell me this, when did you decide to trust me? And why?"
"I knew I could trust you when I found out, that you knew what we are going through in 12. Most of the Capitol people are to stuck up to realize what they are doing to us, no offence."
"Believe me, none taken. I know what you mean. Most of the true Capitol people are too worried about what they look like to notice anything else." she says.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
'The Capital is known for their plastic surgery. Have you every had anything done to you body?"
"I'm 50 years old, and look like I'm 25. I have had more then my share of surgery."
"Why did you do it? 50 is not old. You would still look young. All of the people would look so much prettier, too."
"I don't know, honestly. I guess, if you live in the Capital, its just, expected of you. It always has been."
"I guess," I reply. I still don't understand why people destroy their body to 'fit in', but whatever.
"Enough of this chit-chat! Let me show you your outfit for the opening ceremonies!"