Chapter 15 Emmy
Chapter 15
Total world domination.
Emmy
FIVE HOURS LATER, Val peels a lock of hair from my head and wraps it around the shaft of the curling iron while I dip my fingers into a single-serve bag of Cheetos. My new outfit hangs from the bathroom doorway, a turquoise and light blue jumpsuit that is kind of like the navy Target jumpsuit I already own but with some extra zeros on the price tag. Outside the hotel window, two children make a beeline for the pool while their mother follows behind more slowly. A comfortable quiet fills the room.
“Do you style anybody else but me?” I ask, tossing the chip bag in the trash and licking my fingers.
“Right now, you are my only tribute, Katniss Everdeen.”
My head swivels toward him. “I think of you as my Cinna!”
“May the odds be ever in your favor.” He spins it back around.
“Where are you from? I thought I detected a bit of an English accent earlier.”
“I’ve been watching Downton Abbey . What do you think?”
“Elegant, yet condescending. I think you’ve nailed it.”
A warm, wavy tendril of hair falls against my cheek. Something about it makes me feel like I’m in a safe place. With a safe person. “Val, do you think somebody like me could ever compete with Margarita Ayala?”
He pauses and catches my eye in the mirror. “My mother used to tell me, ‘Child, don’t swim where your feet don’t touch.’”
“Wow, that accent went from London to Mississippi real quick.”
“Georgia,” Val corrects. “And I never shared that particular opinion with her. Although, if you’re to win Jason Connor away from that Latina lovely, you’re gonna need a little Botox here.” A finger comes at my face.
I swat it away, giggling. “I said no Botox!”
“Why do you want him so badly, anyway?” Val asks, getting back to work.
“Who doesn’t want him? He’s perfect.”
“Nobody’s perfect, lass.”
I study the stains on the ceiling while Val applies concealer under my eyes. “I felt like we had a connection once or twice. We have fun together. And he’s starting to open up to me more. But I don’t know for sure.”
“If you want the man in your bed, I’m pretty sure you can get the man in your bed.”
“I know that.” A mascara wand thickens my lashes. Shimmery powder makes my skin sparkle.
“So, if that’s not enough, here’s a question to ask yourself: What do you want to get out of this?”
I stifle a scowl. I wish people would stop asking me that—what I want, what my dreams are. The truth is I don’t really know. I want my youth back. I want my bright, shiny future ahead of me, the one that got swallowed up by a huge mistake and thirteen years of hiding from it. I want Jason to feel something for me that comes from above the waistline. I want…
“I want to sell lots of books,” I say.
Val’s derisive laugh tells me he’s not impressed.
I try again. “I want to be famous.”
He blows in my face, sending powder particles scattering. “I would say that’s done.”
“I want to be famous -er ?”
He scoffs. “Come on, girl, dig deep. What is it you’re really after?”
I didn’t realize Val was supposed to be my therapist as well as my stylist. I press my bare toes into the hotel carpet, and that night thirteen years ago blinks to life again in my brain. Another hotel room. Another party. Another smoky eye like the one in the mirror, only younger, more naive.
Can I call you a cab? Rhett asked afterward, standing in the doorway looking all Billy Zane in his rumpled shirt and boxers.
Aren’t we going to talk about the screenplay?
You know what? I don’t want to string you along, honey. Your screenplay isn’t going to be made into a movie. It’s just not. You’re not at that level. You’re small potatoes. It’s not bad. It’s just not… special. Forget it. Hollywood’s not for everyone. What was your name again?
I blink up at Val. “What I really want is to belong here. But I don’t know if I’m cut out for it.”
“Hmm.” He nods. “Katniss Everdeen didn’t think she was cut out to launch a revolution. She just showed up, and look what happened.”
“But Katniss was badass.”
“Katniss had skills and knew how to use them. You do, too. The difference between you is, she had a reason to win: survival. And, eventually, taking down the Capitol to protect the people she loved.”
I see Rhett’s smug face in my mind’s eye, and this time I feel anger, not shame. Val’s right. I’m good at what I do. Why shouldn’t there be a place for me here? I might be from District 11, but Jason obviously has some interest in me. Maybe he prefers a fierce, bow-and-arrow-wielding, imperfect heroine to a splashy, made-up, Capitol-bred princess like Margarita.
Katniss got the guy and the glory. Maybe I can, too.
My heart rate spikes, and I check my wrist, forgetting I ruined my Fitbit last night in the hot tub. Could I win Jason Connor’s heart for real? I mean, he’s taking me to this cast party, not Margarita. What if I didn’t have to fake a Cinderella story because it really was a Cinderella story? But if I get my hopes up, and I’m wrong…
“I don’t need to take down the Capitol, Val. I just need it not to crush me to bits.”
His purple contact lenses bore into me, giving him a wise cyborg-ish vibe. “Nobody’s crushing my tribute to bits unless she lets them. Have a look.”
He steps aside, and I see my full face. My lips part. I hardly recognize myself. Val has transformed me into a movie star, all my best features enhanced. My lips are full and pink and pouty. My eyes, sultry and mysterious. My skin is golden and radiant. Every wavy lock of my hair is flawlessly in place. If I saw myself walk into a room, I would turn my own head.
“Do you think Jason Connor’s going to be thinking about Margarita Ayala with you on his arm tonight?”
I squint my perfect eyes. “Who is Margarita Ayala?”
Val laughs. “That’s my girl.” He starts packing away his implements. “And what are we going to use our newfound superpowers to accomplish tonight?”
Turning my face left and right, I appraise myself from every angle. I don’t look like a redshirt today. I don’t feel like one, either. Maybe Val is right. Book sales are going well. My social media stats have never been higher. I’m in Vanity Fair , for crying out loud. In fact, for the first time, I feel like I could have it all—fame, fortune, even Jason Connor.
My face splits into an evil smile. “Total world domination.”
Val laughs, and it’s the first time I’ve heard that noise, which is 100 percent Samuel L. Jackson.
“Just kidding. Maybe I’ll focus on helping Jason with his social media mess and see where that goes.”
Val’s pencil-line eyebrows go up. “Interesting.”
“I’d like to see what it feels like to be with Jason Connor without a side agenda. It seems like something Katniss might do, you know, on her way to kicking ass and taking names.” I squirm in my chair because I’m not being totally honest with Val. I haven’t told him about that awful bar scene. It’s not in the script, but it’s still in the book.
Val reaches for my new jumpsuit and holds it out for me. “Just don’t spill anything while you’re at it, or I’ll go Black President Snow on your ass. Got it?”
I hold out a finger for the hanger. “No promises.”