She was a doll. A porcelain doll with rosy cheeks and perfect ringlets in her hair. Her perfect smile never faltered, her face never fractured.
And that is how Effie Trinket lived her life, like a marionette, pulled this way and that by the ties of the Capitol.
She doesn't understand Katniss' pain – she never will. Effie's is a different kind; hearts like hers break so quietly.
Her outside appearance remains flawless, while inside she's crumbling. She misses how her life used to be, a blur of lace and pink and a perfect social life. Now it's just hate and control, day after day after day.
The clock ticks over as another hour passes. She stares at it with loath, wishing the damn thing would just stop and give her some time to catch up.
She had been so caught up in her dreams that reality had left her behind. Now Katniss and Peeta were going back into the arena again and Haymitch was angry and the world wasn't right anymore.
She sits alone on the couch in the Capitol apartment crying softly to herself. Her tears flow almost as fast as the rain outside. She's always hated the rain – it brought memories to the surface she'd rather forget (like the first time she ever went to District 12, the first time she met Haymitch).
She feels the cushion beside her dip, and she looks over at Haymitch. He too looks exhausted, and all of a sudden she feels 100 years old. Her bones are tired, aching, and she leans into him.
Haymitch wraps his arms around her, his breathing grounding her and reminding her that this is real.
Tomorrow, they have to face the world. She has to reap Peeta and Katniss for the second time.
Peeta, the darling boy who just wanted happiness, and Katniss the girl who would sacrifice everything for those she loved. She wished she could be like them – noble and courageous.
But she was just a shell. A porcelain doll.