Chapter 11

Prim's POV

I'm still not convinced that I am surrounded by people, not brightly colored birds. They are my prep team, Octavia, Venia, and Flavius. They are all very sweet, except maybe Flavius since he's been trying to use purple lipstick on me since I walked in, and I know they don't want to be here. However, they still adore the "trendy" capitol styles. Venia just finished yanking through my hair and Octavia finished waxing me. Flavius is still adding a final detail to my nails which I am not supposed to see. It's a surprise! It's a surprise! They continue babbling until finally they turn their attention to me.

"Oh, Prim! You're ready! Gorgeous! Fabulous!" Octavia squeals.

I turn myself to the mirror. I still look like Prim but it's more like a flawless version of me. I am happy that I recognize myself, however. I grin.

"Thank you!" I gush. Though I'm not as serious as my mother was...gushing is not something I do often.

Venia chirps, "Oh! Your stylists going to love you!"

"Who is my stylist?"

Octavia replies quietly, "Oh...darling we don't know. We haven't been allowed to see your stylist. And since Cinna..." Tears pool into her eyes and I instinctively give her a hug.

"Octavia, I'm so sorry."

She wipes her tears away and Venia, determined on staying composed says, "Oh Octavia, come now. Remember what Cinna said about crying." Octavia nods.

"I'm sorry, Prim. I'll go get your stylist." The prep team walks out.

A few minutes later a man walks in, my stylist. He is not like Flavius, he's normal. I wonder if this is how it always is for District Twelve. Then I see the brown hair...the golden eyeliner...the green eyes with the gold flecks. Wait...I think I know him. But I can't remember who...

"Hello, Prim, I am Cinna, your stylist," he says quietly.

That's who.

Cinna's POV

After Prim gets over shock, we sit down and order lunch. I study her carefully. She is so like Katniss in some ways. A girl on fire, blazing with hope and determination. But more than that. She doesn't have her mother's fight, but something more gentle. However, I can't describe her as Peeta. No this little girl, shes like her aunt. Loving, little Prim. No, shes no fighter. But she's...a primrose. Yes. As lovely as the flower she was named for. She's strong despite her fragileness. She gives hope. Belief. Not destruction like her mother, but not the same type of hope and belief as her father. She's like Prim. Innocent. And I can only hope that I do her justice in her design. I look to her face thoughtfully and smile.

"What?"

"You remind me so much of your aunt."

"Oh," she says simply. I would of passed it off as uncaring if she didn't say it so thoughtfully, maybe trying to picture her lovely aunt.

I help her get into a flowing black dress. It goes down to her feet with a small trail behind her. The sleeves goes just above her elbows and she looks stunning. I grin as I remember this isn't the best part. Unfortunately, Martin will be in a coal black tuxedo the whole time. His new stylist won't cooperate. I wish Portia were here. Portia. The name still brings tears to my eyes.

"Oh Cinna. Thank you! It's a little bit heavy though, why is that?"

"Oh little Prim, you'll see," I say mischieviously. I then adjust her make-up and we go.

"I'm not gonna burst into flames or something, am I?" She looks worried as we head down the hall and I laugh quietly.

"No, not flames. But you have to promise me that after a minute or so you'll twirl, alright?"

"Alright. How do I know when to twirl?"

"Well, I want the audience to have seen you first. You'll know," I grin.

"Okay, Cinna. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Prim."

"Oh, and Cinna?"

"Yes?"

"How'd you decide that my mom was meant to be the girl on fire?"

"Well, it was more of a perfect match than a decision, Prim. You see, thats why I asked for District Twelve first year. I had enough of seeing the kids in coal mining suits. Not attractive, and won't help the kids survive. So I came up with the design. But we can only hope that our costume works with the tribute. When I saw Katniss, I thought that she was perfect for it. And she still is." I smile, remembering Katniss at sixteen.

"Oh," she said quietly and thoughtfully, "Cinna, were you disappointed when you saw me?"

"Oh, Prim you'll be dazzling. But disappointed isn't even a word compared to how I felt when I saw you on that screen." I lower my tone a little. "Katniss always promised herself that this would never happen to any child of hers. She didn't deserve this after all shes been through. You may not know it, but your mother is the strongest person you'll ever meet. And you don't deserve this. No child does. But I'm close to your mother, so this is even harder than what it was when she was in the Games."

"I know," she says quietly, "I wish there was someway I could promise her I'll get out of there...but I can't. I'll probably die in the bloodbath."

I stop her and crouch down to look her in the eyes. "Don't believe it for a second." If she gives up before she's tried, I don't know what I'll do. She bites her lip and nods. I stand up and we continue walking towards the City Circle. We are just arriving and I spot Katniss. She'll be surprised to see me. I laugh quietly at the thought.

Katniss looks up and sees me. She hasn't changed much, besides the fact that shes older, probably mid-thirties, and holding little Rue's hand. Her face lights up and she nudges Peeta. He looks up and grins and they walk over towards me.

Katniss gives me a hug when she gets to me. "Cinna! But, how? Plutarch had sai-"

"I know, Plutarch thought I was dead. And we all know he's never been wrong before, of course." We all grin.

Katniss smiles lightly. "So, Cinna, I see you've given up fire?"

I laugh, "Yes, I have. But there's more to this costume than it seems, Katniss. And I actually got the idea from Effie, and tweaked it a little bit. You know what twirling does to some of my designs."

Her face becomes worried. "Oh Cinna, please tell me you didn't..."

"Katniss, I got the idea from Effie. You don't need to worry."

She laughs and her face relaxes. "Right, sorry."

"No need to apologize." I look at the clock. "Oh, Prim, we have to get going." I take her over to the chariot and make sure she's alright. I have them hold hands and whisper in Prim's ear.

"Remember, twirl and smile. Enjoy it, Prim. This is your night. Let them see you then twirl. Smile, blow kisses, whatever you like. Good luck, Prim." She grins at me and nods. I turn to Martin and see his stylist, Mabrina, a highly alternated Capitol woman is babbling to him and he is glaring at her. I smile to him.

"Good luck, Martin."

He grins back. "Thanks, Cinna." I see Mabrina flush in anger. Oh, what a fun few years this will be. We walk off together, Mabrina being obnoxiously childish. She's looking away with her altered nose in the air. Then she gets bored with it and looks to me.

"Did you alter Prim's dress?" She squeals. "Because you know that I wanted them simple."

"Of course I altered it. You may of wanted them simple. Your tribute is. Let's see how many sponsers simple gets, Mabrina?"

"Like it matters. You know the Gamemakers want the little girl dead. So dead she will be! Serves them right." She walks off, laughing. It sickens me. But not as much as knowing that she could be right. Prim's smart, though, and I'm not losing hope in her yet. I stand by Katniss to watch.

Prim's POV

We are the last to leave, being Twelve. Martin and I are clutching on to eachother. I look and beam at the audience. I know they've noticed me by the shouts of my name. I wait a few seconds, squeeze Martin's hand and begin to twirl. I gasp as smoke arises but keep twirling. I see shreds of my black gown falling to the street and when I finally stop twirling I am dressed in a shimmering, silver, wispy dress that makes me as stunning as a gem.

I'm a diamond. I look to the audience and blow kisses and catch an evening primrose. I am dazzling. Cinna is a genious.

Our chariots finish the first lap and go for a second while the cruel president with the eyes of a snake begins her speech. I beam the whole time and watch my transformation being replayed on the screen and then going to me beaming. As for the other tributes? They are glaring, of course. Finally, the chariots begin to leave and Twelve shortly follows. My family and Cinna are waiting there, grinning.

Cinna's POV

I lean down to give Prim a hug.

"You did it, sweetie."

"Thank you Cinna!" She gushes and her being Katniss's daughter, that means I've done something right. And I know what it is.

I have created a thing more radiant than fire on Katniss, even.

I have created Prim, the girl who was a gem.