A/N I had the urge to write a Hunger Games story. Sue me.

Disclaimer: Okay, first of all, I want you to go to your personal library and pull out your copy of The Hunger Games. If you don't own a copy, shame on you. Inspect the cover. What does it say? Suzane Collins? Or "crazy-creepy-fangirl"? And for those of you thinking you're so clever because you figured out Suzanne Collins was a pen name, not sorry to rain on your parade, but if I were to chose a pen name, it would be "Ashley Reid." I'm sorry to disappoint you, but...I'm not sorry.

Cinna entered the room where he was told to sit and wait for his interviewer. It was, as usual, a clean white room, with two seats facing each other over a glass table. He sat down in on of the seats.

A woman entered, holding a thin screen, her eyes quickly scanning it. She looked up. "You're Cinna?"

He nodded.

"Well from my information on you, I hear you're very advanced in the field of...fashion and design? And that you wish to become a stylist for the Hunger Games?"

He nodded again, this time adding some words. "Specifically, I requested District Twelve."

She looked up at him again with surprised eyes. "I-I'm sorry? District Twelve, you said?"

"Yes." Cinna sighed internally. He had been facing questions, shock, and in one case, outright disbelief for his request.

"Well...I suppose that- but I see that District Four's stylist is retiring. Would you prefer to apply for that position instead?"

Cinna shook his head. "No, thank you."

The woman, who had been slightly flustered, regained control. Looking down at her screen yet again, she said. "Very well. You seem to have all the requirements, but there are still some questions I must ask. Protocol, you understand."

He nodded. There didn't seem like much else he could do.

"All right. Can you draw an outfit that you would consider for District Twelve, for opening night?" She passed him a piece of paper, a clipboard, and a pencil.

Cinna immediately started sketching out his idea, and when he was done, he looked up and handed her the clipboard back.

She looked at it, and her eyes widened. "I'm sorry - this is what you would do?"

"Yes."

"You plan to - light the tributes on fire?"

"More specifically, light their costumes on fire using completely harmless synthetic fire."

She straightened her glasses. "Well..."

Cinna waited.

"I suppose it's very creative...and there's no one else willing to do it...Yes, you can have the job."

Cinna smiled for the first time since entering the room. "Wonderful."

She smiled back. "Well, your work here is done. Be sure to report to a mandatory orientation on Thursday, with the details in here." She slid him a file.

"Thank you." The new District Twelve stylist exited the room with a new bounce in his step.

A/N I know, it's kinda boring, but I LOVE Cinna, and it's a challenge writing him, so I just went all "What the heck" and decided to do it. Well, yeah, that's it for now, folks.

Keep lovin' Spencer Reid!