"a big part of who i am is who i am not."
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in which grey spectral was a name finnick odair had long forgotten until the 75th hunger games.
[catching fire - mockingjay]
[a grey spectral stand alone]
[plot belongs to @mikaeIsons]
six; A DECISION OF UTMOST DIFFICULTY (OR SIMPLICITY)
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Grey had been so, so confident her stylists could never come up with anything worse than the dress forced upon her during the opening ceremony.
She was dead wrong.
Her face remained neutral as she entered the waiting area, eyes a vast storm of swirling fury, and she fought every instinct in her body to cross her arms over her chest.
They hadn't covered her torso in any material, which had her wishing gruesome deaths upon the two stylists. Instead of a regular, albeit tight, bodice her stylists usually dressed her in, they had retrieved Grey two hours earlier for them to spray the entirety of her torso in silver body glitter. They giggled and sang their praises while they waited for it to dry against her skin before they had her shimmy into a glittering diamond skirt that flowed freely behind her. The almost opaque material glittered brilliantly under the dull lighting of the backstage area.
Her makeup fit the glitter theme, silver and regal. Her stylists hadn't left a freckle insight, per usual. They had placed so many extensions into her hair that it weighed heavy on her back and caused the tiniest need to tilt her entire body so she wouldn't topple backward due to the weight of the hair.
She was not looking forward to getting them out before the coming morning, but thankfully, they had ended the torture and given her some flats to wear.
Grey was one the first to arrive. She ventured to the small staircase which led to the dais while she impatiently waited for Caesar Flickerman to take the stage and captivate his audience with parting words of sadness which would fuel the fire growing inside her.
"Did your stylists lose a bet?"
Grey glanced to her left and scoffed at Finnick's appearance while he stared at her with furrowed brows.
"No." She rolled her eyes, "They call this 'up and coming fashion.'"
"Up and coming..." He trailed off with a chuckle, "You look–"
"Like if I could slit their throats and get away with it, I would." She hissed out beneath her breath. She shoved her hand in the single pocket sewn into the left side of the skirt, her scowl deepening when she discovered how shallow it was.
Her fingers brushed against the cool metal of the golden bracelet Haymitch had handed her the night before, and she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as her fingers wrapped around the cold chain.
"We want to get as many of you out of that arena alive."
"What's the catch?"
"You'll need to form an alliance with Katniss Everdeen and keep her alive."
She was coming into the games with a plan to follow Slate's advice. She was going to pick an alliance she'd be able to abandon with little guilt and, if necessary, kill to win. If Grey were honest, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were two individuals she would have found easy to betray.
