"Almost done, okay, Primmie?"
I smile weakly at Venia through my gritted teeth, my eyes staring at her aqua hair and gold tattoos above her eyes, mostly. She continues to peel the hair off my body, talking to me in her silly Capitol accent, using the nickname that the prep team gave me, I wanted them to stop calling me that, but simply did what Haymitch said. When she pulls off the last of the hair, I sigh in relief.
I've been at the remake center for three hours and still haven't met my stylist. Venia says he has no interest in even seeing me until she and the other two, Octavia with green skin, and Flavius with bright orange curls, make me presentable. All of the things they have done to my body have been awful, but I could almost hear Haymitch yelling at me in my head for screwing up as I considered telling my prep team to stop. But even if I did, why would they listen to a twelve year old?
I'll be honest, after everything they've done to be, I feel like a plucked bird.
"Pluckedduck." I can almost hear Katniss saying it in my head, and I smirk at the imaginary voice.
"You're doing very well," Flavius says to me. "If there's one thing we can't stand it's a whiner. Grease her down!" he orders, and Venia and Octavia quickly do it. The lotion stings a bit, but at this point, I'm used to the stinging, it quickly soothes my raw skin, anyway. The pull me down from the table and remove my robe, exposing me to them, and I feel myself shrinking as they circle me, staring, tweezers at the ready.
"Excellent!" Flavius says happily. "You look great! Even more like a human being!"
"Thank you." I say in a quiet voice, but say nothing more. I think about what Katniss might say, then add, "We don't have much cause to look good in District 12."
"Of course you don't, you poor little darling!" Octavia says, clasping her hands together in distress for me.
"But don't worry, by the time Cinna is through with you, you'll look amazing!" Venia says happily. "Let's call Cinna!" she smiles, and the three of them dart out of the room.
I sigh and try to resist the urge to put my robe back on, my stylist would probably make me remove it again anyway. I play with my hair, my mother had curled it lightly for the reaping, but let it hang down my back, even Katniss would admit, it looked good. It hadn't changed even the slightest bit over the last day or so, which didn't surprise me at all, I didn't get much sleep, so I couldn't say I had a bed-head.
The door opens and a young man who must be Cinna enters. For a Capitol citizen he looks almost too normal, he has short brown cropped hair, simple black clothes, and the only weird thing is the gold eyeliner he sports, though it does succeed in making the gold flecks in his bright green eyes stand out.
"Hello, Prim. I'm Cinna, you're stylist." he says in a quiet voice that doesn't really sound Capitol.
"Hello." I say curiously.
"Just give me a moment, all right?" he asks, and begins to circle my body, not touching me, but staring at it intensely, I resist the urge to dive for the robe. "Who did your hair?" he finally asks.
"My mother." I say quietly.
"It's beautiful, and in almost perfect balance with your profile." he tells me, smiling. "You're mother has clever fingers." I've just decided I like Cinna, too.
"Are you new? I don't think I've seen you before." I tell him.
"Yes, this is my first year in the games." he says.
"So they gave you a District 12?" I ask almost expectantly.
"I asked for a District 12." Cinna says. "Why don't you put on your robe, and we'll have a chat."
I scramble to grab my robe, and literally hear Katniss chuckling in my head. I put on the robe, and follow Cinna into another room. Two red couches face off over a lower table. The window has a great view of the city, and I can see by the light that it must be around noon. Cinna invites me to sit on one of the couches, and takes his seat across from me. The table's top splits open and what would be a feast back home pops out.
Chicken, and chunks of oranges cooked in a creamy sauce, laid on a bed of pearly white grain, tiny green peas and onions, rolls shaped like flowers, and for dessert, honey colored pudding. I ignore the bitter oranges and enjoy the sight of the rest of the food. I look up at Cinna to see him studying me.
"How despicable we must seem to you." he says sadly.
"I like you." I say with a shrug, and it's true, I don't know why, but I see a friend in Cinna, something that will try to keep me alive.
"Hm," Cinna says with curiosity. "So, Prim, about your outfit for the opening ceremonies, my partner, Portia, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Peeta. And our current thought is to dress you in complementary costumes." he says. "As you know, it's customary to reflect the flavor of the District."
"So I'll be in a coal miner outfit?" I ask him with pursed lips.
"Not exactly, you see, Portia and I think that coal miner thing's very overdone." Cinna explains. "No one will remember you in that. And we both see it as our job to make the District 12 tributes unforgettable."
It dawns on me that in a few hours I'm going to be standing in front of all of Panem naked.
"So rather than focus on the coal mining itself, we're going to focus on the coal." he says. Naked and covered in black dust. "And what do we do with coal? We burn it."
I don't understand where Cinna's going with all of this.
"You're not afraid of fire, are you, Prim?" he sees my expression and grins.