nightmare + f. odair✔

38

Octavias hands were shaking. In nervousness or because of the fact that the small room was freezing, she didn't know.

Effie Trinket barged through the door, a large grin on her face. In her hand she held a dress bag. Where she got it, Octavia had no clue.

"This dress was one of the few things I salvaged before we fled the Capitol," Effie explained, slowly dragging the zipper down.

"Along with this," she pulled out a black folder, handing it to a confused Octavia.

With shaky fingers, Octavia opened the portfolio, noticing a small sketch on the first page.

"This- its Veahs, isn't it?" Octavia breathed, holding the sketch in front of her. It was of her dress from the tribute parade, from her first games.

She smiled at the memory, the elegant red dress with gold embroidery.

The next one she flipped to was a rough sketch of her dress for the interview, after she'd won the sixty-sixth games. The one shouldered, forest green dress.

She flipped through many more sketches, tears eventually beginning to flow. The final page was of a beautiful dress.

Taped to the same page was a small piece of paper, and Octavia pulled it off, setting it on the table next to her.

(dress above)

Effie carefully pulled out a long, rose gold dress, with white details all going down it. The sleeves were long, but were tight and exposed her collar bones and shoulder in an elegant way.

"I- Veah did this?" Octavia softly asked, running a hand over the soft material.

Effie nodded sadly, before zipping down the back of the dress.

She helped Octavia get ready, just like Veah once had. She zipped the dress up her body, gave the girl some minimal makeup that Effie had brought, and used makeshift rollers to curl her hair in soft waves.

"Primrose wanted me to give you this," Effie said with a smile. In her bands was a flower crown made of daisies.

Octavia gently put it on her head, adjusting it to fit with her hair.

"You look stunning," Effie assured with a smile.

Octavia picked up the note she had found earlier, glancing at Effie who nodded understandingly and left the room.

With a small sigh, Octavia unfolded the note.

Octavia,

I hope and pray that one day you will read this. I'm writing this on the eve of the seventh fifth Hunger Games, and something tells me that I won't be the one to greet you when you win.

The rebellion has been rumored ever since Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark tricked the system, people are angry, Octavia. And me and you are caught somewhere in the middle.

That is not the point, though. Because if you're reading this, it means something happened to me.

Those nine years of styling other tributes do not compare to the two I helped you. You were kind, but stubborn. Beautiful, but rough around the edges. You helped me to see past what the Capitol had embedded in my head, that the Districts were just the scum under our feet.