𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑶𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄.

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

"Do you like it?" Lola asked, smoothing her hands over the fabric, trying to get every last imperfection out of what was inarguably her best creation in decades. Rosie reignited a passion she'd long since lost, she didn't have to fight for her, the Districts were already assigned stylists, she was just lucky. They both were. They had an understanding. "I know you'd probably prefer a little more coverage, but I was working with the goal of making an impression." The woman explained her choice.

Rosie looked at herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. She looked nothing like the girl she was just a few days ago, that girl was now scrubbed and waxed, had her eyebrows plucked and her nails painted. She now smelled of luxury and was dressed in countless hours of work and fabrics that felt like a cloud.

If you saw Rosie from the back it'd look like she was wearing a full-length gown, a gown in a rich silk that was an almost perfect match to the olive colour of her Reaping dress; but when she turned around the front didn't leave a lot to the imagination. There was a corset that sucked her into a perfect hourglass shape—she was thankful she'd only eaten a biscuit that morning—the thick material pressed down on her chest, making it seem fuller than it really was. The skirt was cut up from the long train to be short at the front, showing off her legs that had copious amounts of thick foundation to even out all the scars she'd gained by needing to hunt and run through forests. Just like the scattered polka dots on the dress that caught The Capitol's attention, there was a scattered pattern on this dress, gorgeous intricate flowers were sown on sparsely, each different and unique. Sheer gloves climbed up her arms, the thin material shimmered and boasted the same tiny flowers. Her nude shoes were something she struggled to get used to, they wobbled but they made her legs look even longer.

"It's amazing, I don't understand how someone could make this," Rosie smiled in awe.

Lola was right in the respect she would've liked a little more coverage, but she had to make an impression. And if being dressed like a skimpy, garden princess kept her alive then she'd do it. The teenager ran her clothed fingers through her thick blonde hair which now had leaves and flowers strung throughout it.

"Well, let's go to meet everyone else. Keep your chin up, Rosie. You can do this, I believe in you." The woman reached up a hand and cupped Rosie's cheek.

Lola held the door open, and taking one deep breath in, Rosie prepared herself before strutting out the room like she dressed up like this every day. She needed to exude confidence, and yet keep a softness about her. Just down the hallway, Rosie found Toby with his own stylist smoothing out creases in the suit. The paired matched colour pallets.

"You look amazing, Rosie," Toby smiled genuinely.

"You clean up nice, Toby," Rosie complimented back. With her heels, she was almost as tall as the boy.

Walking shoulder to shoulder with their stylists behind them Toby and Rosie moved through the commotion to find their horses. They passed groups of Tributes. Some looked scared, some looked annoyed, some looked smug—like they thought they were already Victors. She saw Wren once again, when they made eye contact Rosie couldn't help but wink.

"Okay, this is you two. Stand tall, smile and make them remember you," Lola said to the both of them. Toby's stylist had clearly wandered off. "Now, I need to go. Don't fall off your heels, Rosie." She offered the final piece of advice before walking off.

Toby rocked back and forth on his heels, clearly bored. He was just a big kid—he reminded Rosie of Orion, never being able to stand still. Toby walked over to introduce himself to the horses, Rosie stayed leant against the concrete wall of the holding room, waiting for further instruction. She heard a pair of confident footsteps approach her, she glanced over and caught sight of none other than Captiol heartthrob, Finnick Odair. The winner of the 65th Annual Hunger Games, the youngest ever to win at all. With the dimples and messy blond hair, it wasn't shocking the people of The Capitol, shallow as they are, loved him. A pretty boy with ample talent to back him up.