A/N: I haven't finished reading the new prequel novel yet...but I had an idea and I couldn't get it out of my head.

So here's a prequel idea that I got while watching the movies…Might be a bit AU/OC but here we go. For some of the games, I had to invent stuff because I couldn't find much on them. These might not be accurate, but we will just roll with it. I own nothing but the story I create.

Enjoy!

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Effie Trinket was, by all accounts, an average looking girl. That's what everyone told her, anyway, and while she didn't mind being average-looking, she thought it was a bit of an understatement at the moment.

The girl that faced her in the mirror looked so different than the one that usually mocked her back home. There was blush across her pale cheeks, some kind of glossy coating on her lips that tasted like sugar and thick mascara on her lashes that extended them like wings. Beneath those wings, her own blue irises stared back at herself in wonder.

"Beautiful." Fidge came around her left side and adjusted the fabric at her hips ever so slightly.

"You think so?"

"I know so." Fidge came around her front and narrowed his dark eyes, scanning the mint green dress for any flaws or imperfections. "Simple elegance is something to strive for."

And strive he had. Her make up was minimal, but it was so different than anything she'd worn before. It almost made those hollow cheekbones disappear. And the dress...padded of course. At only 13, she was tiny, so thin her ribs seemed to press through the skin around her ribcage. The sleeves helped to hide her bony limbs, giving her the healthy physique a capitol citizen should have.

She ran her sweaty palms across the chiffon, a fabric she had never been able to afford, and then shook her hands nervously.

"Nervous?"

"I don't know." She muttered as he pulled out shoes for her. "I want this to go well, but I can't afford to get my hopes up."

He held her hand while she stepped into her short heels. "With your father's success, I have no doubt he'll be tasked to return next year. As long as tonight goes well, that is."

Fidge was right. It was the Victory tour, and the final stop involved a lavish party at the President's Mansion. Her father cooked most of the food on the banquet table (which was ironic in its own right) and, if tonight went well, the odds of him being invited back...well they would be in his favor.

She giggled to herself at the thought. Fidge's mouth quirked up at the sound as he made one last pass around, and then he deemed her perfect. With help, she dismounted the small platform and took one last look at her reflection in the mirror.

There was a sharp rapt at the door, and in came a capitol servant. "Miss, your father is waiting for you downstairs."

"Thank you." She nodded, her nerves hitting an all-time high . She pushed them back, forcing a pleasant smile on her face.

"Go have fun." Fidge hissed, shooing her through the door and into an empty hallway with a wink.

The servant seemed to have disappeared, leaving her to navigate the hallway alone. In the distance, there was already a mild melody playing through the dining rooms, and raucous laughter seemed to reverberate through the walls. She followed the sounds, keeping one hand on the thick wooden railing.

Eventually, she did make it downstairs, and she found her father almost instantly. His face brightened when he saw her, and he held out a hand to escort her down the last few steps. The warmth of his hands, which were usually so cold, helped to relax her tense nerves.

"Euphemia, dear, this is Head Gamemaker Henrietta Blue. Blue, this is my daughter." His voice was quick and breathy, so he must have been both very nervous and also very excited.

She knew her role, her place in the grand scheme of the night. It was to make him look good.

"Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you." Both sweet and bubbly, and she won them over almost instantly.

Blue gushed over her dress, how pretty she looked and how grown up she was. Someone else, another gamemaker, she guessed, talked about the food. She replied just as happily to their prompts.

When they asked her about what she wanted to do, if she wanted to be a part of the games, she replied "I hadn't really thought about it. I love fashion, so maybe I can help with the tribute parade costumes?"

Her dad reached over and put a light hand on her shoulder, squeezing it ever so slightly. That was a good answer. She beamed even brighter.

"Well, if the food at home is half as good as it is tonight, you might have to be making me new clothes in the future!"

There was a thunderous round of laughter. A gamemaker patted her father good naturedly on the shoulder. She smiled of course, in that same bubbly way, but inside her heart sank.

If only they knew….

The triumphant sound of trumpets and drums interrupted the conversation, and the room quickly vacated out to the patio to greet the incoming tribute and his support team. Eagerly, her father took her hand and led her outside to get a good look at the party.

Above them, President Snow gave a speech that was met with loud applause all across the grounds. The small group seemed to surround the tribute, as if protecting him from the crowd of onlookers. She couldn't see much of him, but when his stylist moved over a little bit, she got her first glimpse.

Effie had seen Haymitch Abernathy on television, of course. For the last six months, his face had been plastered on reruns, the details of his games playing on loop for all who chose to watch. She was surprised to see that, six months after the games had ended, he looked even more lethal standing in that courtyard. But he didn't care about the crowds or his stylist team or even his mentor….

He was staring straight at Snow.

Before she could process that look on his face, the group was being ushered back into the room. They all seemed to migrate downstairs and she followed them, also eager to see the Haymitch Abernathy up close.

The party was in full swing when she got down to the gardens. Music came from somewhere. People plucked food from the buffet tables and stood around talking with full plates. While her father was requested to return to the kitchen to solve a minor crisis, she wandered the tables. Effie took in the people-the carefully painted faces. Animal prints were all the rage this year, and more than once, she saw someone with cat whiskers attached to their faces. It was almost too much, the finery and the colorful fabrics and the smells. It was far more elegant than anything she had gone to before, but it was overwhelming.

Up on the second floor of the mansion, which was much quieter, she found a bathroom and entered quickly, locking the door behind her.

Effie forced herself to take a few deep breaths to calm her anxious nerves. Her own blue eyes seemed to say Calm down you idiot back to her in the bathroom mirror.

She stood up straight, forced her shoulders back, and took one last, steadying breath. With that bubbly smile plastered on her face, she exited the bathroom.

As she began her descent back down to the dining room, she heard something, like a bottle or a glass being dropped. With a frown, she turned and neared the room closest to her. Through the thick mahogany doors, she heard another noise.

Effie pushed the door with her small shoulder.

Almost immediately, she heard a woosh and narrowly avoided having a knife pierce the flesh by her left ear.

She whipped around, eyes going wide at the butter knife that was now embedded in the doorframe.

"That is mahogany!" She cried indignantly, turning back to the assailant. "Why did you throw a knife at me?!"

"Why did you sneak up on me?" It was Haymitch. He wobbled a bit, bottle in his hand, obviously plastered and very irritated.

"I didn't-" She breathlessly turned to look at the knife, and then back to him. "Do you always bring knives to dinner parties?"

"Dinner parties? More like murder parties." he scoffed, sliding drunkenly into a plush chair. "I stole it from the dining room table." he finally mumbled, taking another swig.

"Ah." She looked at him warily. This boy...there was something off about him. While he drank and spoke in a rage, she could also see an unbearable amount of pain on his face.

"Who are you?" He slurred.

"Effie. Effie Trinket. And you're Haymitch, right?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah."

"Well I-"

"Effie!" Someone was calling for her.

"I have to-I have to go." She turned her attention back to Haymitch and their bizarre and not-at-all-what-she-pictured conversation. "Are you alright?"

"Perfect." He sneered sarcastically, tipping his bottle to her. "Go run along now, sweetheart."

Effie frowned at him, but she didn't have much time to dwell on the look that was on his face as she left. Instead, she went and found her father.

He could barely contain his excitement as he pulled her aside, where he told her the good news. He would be catering the Gamemakers events, a full time job that lasted all through the year. They would move to the outskirts of the capitol, they could start fresh.

He was ecstatic and so was she, and for a moment, as they walked hand in hand back to their hotel, she forgot about the boy with the butter knife.

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A/N: What do you guys think?