"Dahlia Blossom. Don't let the name fool you. She's better known as the Black Dahlia. And she didn't earn that nickname by smiling and looking pretty."
"She sure knows how to perform for the camera."
"Because she knows how to play the game. She alwa...
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Districts One and Two were less than pleased with Dahlia's presence. Afterall, she was the reason they were deprived of another Victor. Their tributes had so much potential to win, but their lights were snubbed out by the darkness of The Black Dahlia. She didn't receive a warm reception from the crowds and she could practically feel the bitterness behind the glares of the families.
But Dahlia didn't have the luxury of grieving for the lives she had stolen. They would've done the same to her without a hint of remorse, she merely got to them first. If she had been a Career, these people would've been cheering her name. But the thought that a small inexperienced girl from Five had bested their District's top tributes was humiliating to say the least.
Magenta kept the girl on a tight leash after her outburst in District Four, giving her a stern scolding and strict instructions to stick to the words on the card. Dahlia obliged by his wishes because they were getting closer to the Capitol and, therefore, closer to Snow. She knew he wouldn't be happy with her behaviour so she was desperately trying to claw her way back into his good books (if he even had one).
"What has Snow decreed for me to wear to his party?" Dahlia asks her stylist unenthusiastically as they speed towards the Capitol.
Juno shoots up from her seat eagerly, clapping her hands together in excitement. "He commissioned this dress specifically."
"Oh joy." Dahlia hums sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, dreading the outfit even more with that knowledge. "Snow seems awfully keen on the phrase 'Less is More' when it comes to my wardrobe."
"It's your style." Juno defends, unwrapping the dress from its protective covering like a kid in a candy store.
"No, it's not." Dahlia argues, glancing to Alaric who sits on the couch next to her with an impassive expression. "It's the style that's been assigned to me. I have no choice in the matter."
"Either way, this dress is truly magnificent." Juno squeals, preparing to unveil her creation. "Are you ready?" Dahlia and Alaric stare unimpressed at the woman while Magenta nods vigorously. "Ta-dah!"
•——————•°•✿•°•——————•
Feeling more exposed than ever, Dahlia smooths her hands down the thin fabric that scarcely covers her body. Numerous criss-crossing straps secure the dress into place while leaving most of her stomach and chest on display for the Capitol. Two strips of fabric weave their way around her neck as a halter top for her breasts, maintaining the small sliver of composure she has left. Juno has made two large slits in the material right at her hips to naturally draw onlookers' attention downwards. Long sleeves shield her arms from the cold and the snug fabric grips tightly to her legs, reaching all the way to the floor. The rest of the dress is fashioned from a sheer material that leaves little to the imagination.
"Stop fussing with it." Magenta reprimands, lightly slapping her hands away. He was the one leading her to the entrance of the Presidential Palace, despite protesting profusely about the role (he wouldn't admit it outloud, but he had become quite terrified of the girl).
