"Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in a round of applause for our very special guest today. She's the winner of the 70th Hunger Games, a fierce competitor and a true champion. Our very own Capital Angel, Genevieve Coppergrove!"

Genevieve took a deep breath and emerged from the left wing of the stage, the rumbling noise momentarily shocked her as she waved towards a crowd of desperate fans. It was almost unbecoming, the way they scrambled over each other just to get a glimpse of her.

It was strange that the capital spent so much time portraying the districts as less than and subhuman when nothing she'd seen at home reminded her of rabid animals the way the crowd in front of her did. By the time she had finished ruminating this thought she was already using Caesar's outstretched hand to guide her to a plush velvet seat.

"Look at you! Look at you. Oh, your stylists have outdone themselves yet again. That is quite an outfit, don't you think ladies and gentlemen?" Caesar asked and laughed when he was met with wolf whistles and shouts of agreement. Deciding to embrace the sensuality of her chosen garment, Genevieve preened at the compliment and tossed her blonde hair over her shoulders, so that he could get a better glimpse of the intricate straps holding her dress up.

"The audience certainly agrees so now I think it's time to say congratulations! You are the victor of the 70th Hunger Games. Now be a dear and enlighten us, how does that feel?" She made a noise of surprise to appear thoughtful before replying. "Thank you Caesar! I would say that it feels surreal, but from the moment I entered that arena I knew I would win." Her confession wasn't entirely truthful but the audience seemed to eat it up, judging by the shocked noises and loud cheering that broke out afterwards.

If there was one thing she knew how to do it was putting on a show. Caesar seemed to appreciate interviewing someone with charisma for once, the last few victor interviews had been drop dead boring and Genevieve was sure he was thankful for the change.

"I think that I would have to agree with you on that. I'm not allowed to bet contractually but if I was, my money would have been on you right from the start."

"You're too kind Caesar. It's been an incredible journey, and I'm grateful for every moment and all the help I received throughout."

"You certainly had a lot of supporters rooting for you throughout the Games and it's easy to see why."

"I'm not just a pretty face."

"She's got the beauty, the brains and the brawn. What more could you ask for?" Caesar asked, directing the question at the audience. "Now that the games are over you'll be heading back to your district after your victory tour, is there anybody special waiting for you back home?" The audience were on the edge of their seats and for once it was completely silent.

"No one. But I will be glad to see my family again and some of my friends back home." Genevieve swallowed, unsure if she should have mentioned Finnick but then again he was very desirable in the capital and she was sure that if she divulged the nature of their relationship the end result wouldn't be pretty.

"I find that so hard to believe, you've got plenty of young men and women right here in the capital who would sell their right arm for a chance to win your heart." Caesar joked and Genevieve laughed softly, not realising how much truth his statement actually held.

All too soon the interviews were over and she was ushered backstage by a team of harried looking avoxes, her next destination would be the victory after party hosted by Claudius Templesmith himself. A place for all the most important names and faces to band together to get a glimpse at their newly crowned victor.

Before she could join them Genevieve was forced through another outfit change. If she had thought her interview dress was bad, this one really took the cake. The skirt was long, flowy and iridescent; she had no problem with it since it was quite pretty but the top, if it could even be called that, was simply bejewelled mesh netting and seashells. Wearing it was only a small step up from being topless but her prep team was already at the party and there was no other option but to grin and bare it.

Genevieve spent the entire elevator ride adjusting her top and staring at her reflection. Once she had draped it in the least revealing way possible she crossed her arms over her chest and made her way to the party.

The tribute centre where it was being held was overly loud and filled to the brim with people. Within a second of stepping into the room, multiple people had already introduced themselves and invaded the little personal space she had.

Her saviour came in the form of Finnick who was also dressed in an overly revealing garb. The minutes she caught sight of him in the throng of bodies, Genevieve rushed over.

"Hello." She chimed, shielding her body from prying eyes under his much broader frame.

"You know, you're my favourite thing in this room... and we're surrounded by Gallowstone's stash of personal liquor." Was the first thing he said and that really worked to catch her off guard.

"Okay wow. How much have you had to drink?" Genevieve spluttered.

"Stone cold sober darlin'. It's best not to accept any beverages at these kinds of gatherings." He sneered with obvious distaste as he surveyed the room. "I see Snow's already working his magic on your prep team."

"What? Do you mean the outfit?" She asked, gazing down at herself.

"Mmmh, he's building you a persona. The worst is yet to come." Genevieve didn't bother deciphering his cryptic answers and instead plucked a piece of chocolate from a nearby serving platter.

"Don't eat that. It's filled with alcohol and judging by the colour it might also contain an aphrodisiac." He reprimanded gently. Genevieve flushed at his analysis and deposited the afformented food back onto a platter.

"Ugh but I'm so hungry and I've got such a bad sweet tooth right now. You wouldn't happen to have any non dangerous sugar related food on you at this moment in time." She bemoaned, slumping against a wall. Finnick gave her a look that was a definite no and she groaned. "What kind of a mentor doesn't carry round snacks for his starving tribute." Finnick snorted at her awful attempt at humour and plucked a sugar cube from the drinks bar behind him which Genevieve accepted gleefully.