After being carted off to be made "fashionable", in the eyes of the Capitol (which involved being removed of almost all the hair on my body), I was greeted and pleasantly surprised by my stylist who looked almost normal.
"Hello Primrose," the dark skinned stylist says quietly.
"Just Prim actually," I say meekly, ducking my head.
"Well Prim, My name is Cinna and I am to be your stylist," said the stylist newly dubbed Cinna.
"Who did your hair?" He questions softly.
"My mom," I say just as quietly as him.
"It's lovely," he remarks breaking the silence once more.
I allow myself the ghost of a smile finally relaxing with anyone aside from Peeta.
"How old are you?" He asks, most likely attempting to learn a few things about me for how to present me to the Capitol and other districts.
"Twelve," I reply.
I see his normal calm poker face contort into anger.
"How despicable we must seem to you," he says barely leashing his anger.
I'm not quite sure how to respond, so I simply nod an assent.
"So, what will we be wearing during the parade?" I ask, praying that we won't be miners.
He smiles and asks mischievously "How do you feel about fire?"
A few hours later, I am wearing a gorgeous dress which reaches down to right below my knees and wisps off giving the illusion of smoke, black sandals, and as far as make-up, all I have on is smokey eyes and a bit of touch ups.
Peeta is dressed rather simply, wearing what is practically just a black leotard.
I wouldn't give him a second glance during the tribute parade, until Cinna comes and lights us on fire.
The entire parade passes like a breeze, but in the end leaves me exhausted, so I had upstairs to the tribute quarters directly after the Opening Ceremonies and cry myself to sleep.