As she stepped off the tribute train and onto the rough grey promenade leading towards the bustling centre of the Capital, Genevieve couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the bright camera flashes and excited cheers from nearby spectators. She had never seen anything like it before, having grown up in the relatively quiet and peaceful District Four.

Her eyes scanned over the crowd of Capitol citizens who had waited for their train to arrive so they could see the district four tributes in person. It seemed as though they'd already taken a liking to her, she waved back coyly and shot some, more enthusiastic supporters, flirtatious smiles to ensure their continued favour of her.

Caspian seemed to also be playing up his own aloofness to come across as pure muscle. Unfortunately for him the crowd seemed more focused on Finnick who was trying to guide them towards their next stop as quickly as possible. She couldn't exactly blame them, their mentor was quite good looking.

They reached the tribute centre with little fanfare after the original crowds and cameras which probably had something to do with the peacekeepers that had been dispatched to keep the mass of people back.

It was then that she noticed a group of people waving at her from the entrance to the district four design quarters - her prep team.

They were dressed in coordinated outfits of blue and green, with dyed hair and eyebrows to match. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of suspicion as they approached her, their wide smiles and over-the-top energy a stark contrast to her own demeanour. Genevieve was sure that even the Capital mutts seemed more human than they did.

"Welcome, welcome!" exclaimed one of the stylists, a flamboyant woman with a shock of bright pink hair. "I'm Octavia, I'll be your stylist for the games. Let me just say I am so excited to work with you!"

She nodded, unsure of how to respond as they began to buzz around her, taking measurements and discussing potential angles for the games. She couldn't help but feel like a doll as she was pushed around, unknown hands carded through her hair and cooed when she least suspected it.

They soon retreated into a closed room filled with loose bolts of material and dozens of mannequins.

"Well what do you think?" Octavia asked, clasping her hands together excitedly as she guided her onto a pedestal.

Genevieve furrowed her brows, arms folded across her chest as she tried to make sense of the mess of fabrics and colours being presented to her. "So is this what we're going to be wearing?," she asked, praying silently that it wasn't. If someone tried to dress her up as a fish she would most definitely throw a fit. Her stylist made an affronted noise, putting one hand on her heart as though what Genevieve said physically hurt her before exclaiming "Heaven's no. This is my concept board. You see I've only just been promoted to Head Stylist this year after Roman retired and I'm absolutely desperate to be on Flickerman's top ten tribute looks." Octavia gushed as she led Genevieve over to a surgical looking chair and gestured for her to sit down.

With a snap of Octavia's fingers her two assistants rushed over and began to slather various ointments and creams all over her skin. Genevieve sucked in a sharp intake of breath when one of the assistants started to wax her legs without any prior warning.

They spent at least half an hour just getting rid of her body hair although when they were finished Octavia had gushed about how little she had in comparison to previous tributes.

The next hour was dedicated to sculpting and then painting her nails with delicate swirls of blue and white. After that her face was primed for makeup, and her hair was yanked around mercilessly behind her.

According to Octavia's concept board they were modelling her after the ancient tales of sea nymphs which seemed, so far, to be better than the normal fish concept.

The makeover was tedious and hurt in more ways than one. Genevieve was beginning to wonder if it was really worth all the hassle for a twenty minute parade.

Those thoughts quickly dissipated as she looked in the mirror.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders effortlessly, it had been styled to look like she had just emerged from the water. Pearls had been woven through her hair and as she turned to admire herself they glinted in the sunlight. Her eyes seemed to mimic the waves with swirls of blue lining her eyelids. This only served to enhance the contacts that she had been wearing. Her normal eyes were mostly green with a hint of brown whereas now they were blindingly blue and somehow sharper, they had been handcrafted to look like siren eyes Octavia explained as Genevieve stared down at her dress.

It was made from a light flowing material which seemed to mimic the foam often present as waves washed ashore. The dress clung to her like a second skin and she couldn't help but notice how risqué it appeared. The neckline was low and seemed to leave nothing to the imagination, at times like this Genevieve was glad to have inherited her mothers modelesque figure and not the large stocky build of her father. A ring of pearls was draped round her waist and rested artfully on her hips.

Behind her Octavia squealed in delight. "It all came together so perfectly." She shrieked with a large grin on her lips, making Genevieve a little uncomfortable.

"But of course" Octavia simpered, "That's all down to you my dear. I'm so glad we got such a fine specimen and not an uncultured brute like some of the other districts"

Genevieve nodded, once again unsure of how to respond, Luckily she was saved from answering by Mags and Finnick entering the room. They had disappeared shortly after she had met her prep team and Genevieve was glad to see some more familiar faces.

Odair looked her up and down as he approached, "Your parade costume isn't half bad" he remarked and Octavia looked like she wanted to slap him for suggesting it was anything less than a masterpiece.

Genevieve scoffed, "Jealous you had to dress up a salmon" she snapped, irritated, and Finnick laughed. Even the ugly garb he'd been given for his parade had done nothing to diminish his natural beauty but Genevieve felt a little protective over her talented, well meaning, yet over enthusiastic stylist. The insult hadn't seemed to affect him at all judging by the smirk decorating his face.

"I'm sorry, is this funny to you." She grunted.

"Yes, highly." He teased, enjoying the look of annoyance on her face

"Watch it, I'm not against punching that pretty little smile off your face." She threatened picking up her skirts and turning to face him. Mags, sensing another conflict, had ducked out of the door with a small wave goodbye, on her way to check on Caspian and Octavia didn't look like she wanted to interrupt. So really there was no one to stop her if she went through with her threat.

"The great Genevieve Coppergeove thinks I'm pretty. What a pleasant surprise." He joked.

"I didn't call you pretty."

"Sorry darling but I think it's a bit too late to take that back."

Genevieve felt herself beginning to blush at the nickname and tried to remain unbothered. "Ugh you're so— so obnoxious."

"Is that the best you can come up with? Surely you have better insults than that. Let's hear another one, this is quite entertaining after all."

"Stop telling me what to do." She demanded, with a petulant huff.

"In case you haven't noticed yet, that's kind of my job."

"Your job is to keep me alive, not annoy me to death."

"How am I meant to keep you alive if I can't tell you what to do?"

"You leave me to my own devices. I'm more than capable of winning without your help."

"Whatever you say darling." He jeered and ducked out the door.

Genevieve had to stop herself from screaming in frustration and promptly ignored Octavia who swooned at the mere sight of her mentor.