Sorry I haven't updated on this story lately, but here you go!


"Are you part sasquatch?!" one of my stylist asks. She has aqua marine hair and a lighter tone of the color on her skin. She just pulled off a piece of was, bringing along huge clumps of hair.

"Yeah. Seriously, just because you're poor, doesn't mean you can't shave." another one says. She has bright orange hair. Seriously, these Capital people and their "fashion".

And for their information, I can't afford a razor. They cost like, $5 at the cheapest. I need that money to buy aglets for my shoe laces. Aglets are way more important than a stupid razor. You can do all kinds of things with aglets like...like...well I don't think you can do anything with a razor. All you can do with a razor is shave stuff...WAIT I could use it as a weapon to kill game. UGH! Why didn't I think of that before. It would have been so much easier to gut a deer. Well, now it's to late.

"Well, maybe Cinna can do something for her." the boy stylist says, stepping forward. Where did he just come from?

"Cinna is a stylist, not a miracle worker." the green stylist says.

The other two just shrug and nod.

"Wash her. I have to go throw up." the green one says. She gags, putting a hand over her mouth, and rushes out of the room.

The stylist with the orange hair grabs a hose. It's a fire hose. She turns it on and starts washing me, gown and all. The water is go strong, she flies around the room desperately holding onto it. The water sprays all over the room.

"My make-up!" One of them cries. I can't tell because the pressure from the water is so strong.

"SSSSSSTTTTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPP!" Some one cries. The person runs over the switch and turns off the water. "What is wrong with you people? It's like working with toddlers!"

"Hey! Venia is a toddler, she just had a lot of work done." One of them says.

"It's not my fault I developed a great taste for fashion at a young age." The one named Venia says, putting her hands on her hips.

"Ugh! Just give me the subject." The guy says. He grabs my wrist and takes me away. He leads me down some hallways and into a room. He sits me down in a chair and then backs up to look at me. He is dressed in black jeans with a chain and a black t-shirt. He doesn't have any make-up like other Capital people, besides gold eye liner. "Name."

"Uh..Katniss Everdeen." I say.

"Great, ugly and stupid." He says, "Why can't I ever get those district one girls? At least they can tell me their names without saying 'uh'. And they're thin and pretaty. Sure they're block heads, but-"

"If you hate me so much, why not just get it over with?" I ask him, tired of all the talk of district one. I'm jealous enough as it is.

"Don't be such a diva. It's bad enough I have to sit in this pit of despair, I don't need you complaining, that's my job. But Honey, I like your guts. I'll help you, but while your in the arena, you have to advertise my new clothing line."

"Deal." I say, putting out my hand. We shake, sealing the deal.

"I'm Cinna. Not Cinnabun, Cinna. If you call me anything but my name, you might not see the arena." He says assertively. I nod my head. I can see his pain. After years of being called things like "Everseen" or "Evergreen" or "Foreverdeen", you get annoyed.

"Okay, let's see what we can do for that face..." Cinna says. He pulls out a pair of hedge trimmers and gets to work.

He must be a perfectionist, because he's at it for hours. I can't tell what he's doing to me, but he keeps screaming whenever he moves to another aspect of my face.

"Okay, we're done." Cinna says finally. He takes a few steps away from me, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He's breathing heavily, but looks pleased with is work. He hold up a round object. There is a girl inside! How could he trap her in there? The girl has a lot of make up. Dark eye shadow, red lipstick, make up making her cheek bones dramatic. The poor thing! I scream and grab it from his hands.

"I'll save you!" I cry. But the girl in the mirror is mouthing my words. How rude! "I won't if you're going to do that-hey stop!" She continues to mock me. If I wanted to be mocked, I'd show people my report card. I'm about to die, I should be treated with respect.

"What's wrong with you?" Cinna says, hitting the back of my head, "It's a mirror."

"MY-ROAR?" I ask. I have never hear of such a thing. "What does it do?"

"UGH, it reflects things. See, this is you," he holds it in front of my face. The girl stares at me. I move my head, at the same time, so does she. I raise my hand, at the same time, so does she. I decide to test the girl's mocking ability and start dancing the cupid shuffle as fast as I can and randomly stop when I think she gets the most into it.

"Wow, she's good."

"She's you! You know what? Whatever, we have to go upstairs anyway," his voice mellows, "Come on."