99 gold chains // bambi

For the first time in four months, Sampson felt like they could finally breathe. Truly, that integral inhale, exhale, they had a manicure lined up for them the second Jade Morin and Emmett Le Roux were processed into their own chambers, seconds before the bloodbath. 

Sampson was proud, sure, but more relieved than anything. That they had managed to get through it all, and not just that, but rather damn extravagantly. Bambi had been something stable, a constant moving hand along side the frantic workload that Sampson found themselves working through. It was the tribute parade, and the interviews, and it was Opal and Katelyn's spotlight kisses, and it was Ky Earnest back in the capitol for the first time, and it was the Ridley Le Roux clothes line launch. For four months, Sampson not only peeked through the curtains, but practically jumped head first into their mother's life style. 

It was work, nine goddamn yards of it, and they were rewarded with two out of the three top tribute scores. Admittedly, it felt pretty damn good! 

That supple taste of success, that first bit of it, Sampson knew it was all coast from here. Autopilot, and they would sponsor as they could to support district one, but at the end of the day they set Jade off as lovingly as they could. At the beginning, all they could hope was to do right by that girl, dress her something gorgeous and watch the way she dies. The casket was made of pampered fur and golden details, just as she would deserve. 

They mourned in the way that they applied those final touches to her face, and stood strong as they watched her go up that lift. Black cloak and, "after that bloodbath, I'm sponsoring you a belt, baby, hold me to it!" To cinch that wasit, show the way she was something fierce on the screen. Sampson hadn't wondered how long she would last -- that was something their mother had made sure to place in their head. Indoctrinated, always an arms length away emotionally, Jade Morin would die and the best goddamn thing you do for that girl is make sure she dies gorgeous. 

Not pretty, not cute, but drop dead fucking gorgeous. 

Let that be her weapon! They practically danced on the way back to the stylist stations, heavy heart in the way they tried to picture how Sailor had sent off Dominic. The two of them were so similar and so different, and they chewed on the gold necklace that sat limp on their chest moments before. Sailor had no family name to rest on, no expectations; Sampson couldn't help but be grateful for their mother. 

Sardonyx had built it all long before they came into it, and they could see it in the way Bambi Selcado looks at them as they enter back into the main hall. Flamboyant in the way they bounce through the room, cowboy boot heels begging to touch the floor. There was no Opal, no Ridley, no Justice or Topaz or Peridot, it was just the two stylists at this point. That final send off a secret between Sampson and Jade, and between Bambi and Emmett, and they couldn't help but smile at the way she broods elitism in the room. 

"Nervous?" They prod, pulling spectacles out and into the thick of their hair. 

They were ready for it all, already, to be back at the stylist ball and the Varda estate. Sampson was ready to watch a warrior of their own creation, the way Jade would represent them on that screen in a way they knew they could be proud of. "Not to brag any, but I think we did an alright job, Bambi!" Spoken, as they walk towards to lavish coffee center, Starfyre blend and "we should do this more often, really." 

Truthfully. For all that they lived in this moment, they were already planning how they would show off next year. Who the tribute would be, what name they'd have to mold in their hands next. Perhaps it was all just the espresso getting to them, but they couldn't damn wait.