The 49th Hunger Games

District 7 Styling: Brooke and Timber

"Brooke Sabera? Pleased to meet you!" trilled a young-looking girl. She had blue skin and slightly resembled an alien with her big, bejewled eyes. "I'm your stylist, Deluna!"

"Okay..." I glance back at my mentor Flint as I'm led away, who has a hand on Timber's shoulder. I look nervously into my partner's eyes and he shrugs. His stylist must be a little delayed.

 Deluna leads me to a room that is completely blue all over. Sterile, I'm guessing. 3 people are waiting for me, and I can't tell what they have in store for me.

"Okay, so," Deluna starts, "This is Ausra, Ennis and Anfisa. They will make you perfect."

On the outside maybe, I think.

I gulp, and she adds. "Don't worry, your District partner is getting the same treatment! But these three are specified to you."

She smiles, kisses my hand and daintily exits. I'm left with the 2 women and man staring at me like I'm their next meal.

I am their next meal.

I gain myself and am able to finally respond. "Okay. Whatever you do, I am not wearing one of those stupid tree costumes." 

Anfisa laughs. "Of course not dear! That's so vulgar. Whoever will remember a talking, walking tree? That happens every year. We need something new, something...impression-making."

Ennis and Ausra nod enthusiastically as they grab both my arms and move me forward.

"We'll need you to remove your clothes, darling." Ennis tells me. "We want to see what we'll be working with."

"My-my clothes?" I do a double take and see that Anfisa and Ausra are nodding.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 Brooke has just disappeared from mine and Flint's view, led by crazy Capitol-modified Deluna when we are approached by another girl, almost as excited and crazy looking as her. 

"You are District 7?" she asks in her high-pitched grating accent.

I nod and Flint gives me a shove forward. "This is Timber. Brooke went with that other stylist girl...Deluna, is it?" Flint growls.

This girl nods as an expression of understanding falls over her face. "Ah, yes, yes. Deluna told me she was to style the girl. My name is Dagna. Follow me, follow me." she ushers me away from our mentor, taking my wrist in her amazingly skinny hand and dragging me down an almost blindingly white hallway.

She seems to want to pass the time, because she starts talking to me in words that flow so quickly from her mouth that they're barely comprehendable, "This year, for District 7, we have prepared an interesting ensemble. Forget tree costumes and lumberjacks, because this is mine and Deluna's first year as stylists and we plan to make our assigned District memorable!"

I just nod, pretending I'm listening to her rambling. I really don't like the thought of this styling, but 'whatever it takes to get sponsors', Flint says.

 I know the sponsor gifts will only prolong my inevitable death, but what can I do about it anyway?