Wildfire | Johanna Mason

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝓌𝑜

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Gwendolyn pressed her firm hands against Daphne's shoulders, forcing her to turn. "Stand tall, girl," the woman said, pressing a hand to her back to straighten it. "If the people don't like you enough, your life will not be pretty."

"My life won't be pretty, anyway," she muttered, straightening her back anyway. She looked in the mirror, and had to admit that she looked quite beautiful. Her dress was a lavender color, not very much like her district at all, but inspired by the lavender scent she usually wore. Flowers were sewn in the delicate fabric, and pearls and flowers were woven in her hair.

Gwendolyn smiled softly, adding some final details on the dress. "At least you are alive," it was true, she was alive, but Daphne wondered how much she could live. "And you look stunning."

Despite herself, Daphne smiled. She did look gorgeous. Her skin was smooth and shining, her hair was straightened, and then laid in waves softer than her own curls. In the arena, she'd lost a lot of weight, yet the dress made it seem like she still had curves.

She didn't look like a girl who had killed people.

"Yeah," she looked away from herself and sat down on the couch to put her tiny heels on. "I do look pretty, thanks."

The woman gave her a tight smile, watched as the victor stood again, and walked a few steps to test the shoes. "Are you okay?"

"What?" People had asked her all sorts of things, but no one had asked her she was okay. She didn't want them to ask, she just wanted to be cocky and bitter.

"It's a dumb question, I know, but... are you okay enough to give this interview?"

Daphne turned back to the mirror. She didn't see Daphne staring back, she saw someone with Daphne's eyes, with her mouth. But not herself. The thing was that Daphne wasn't well enough to lie and smile, but the girl with Daphne's face — just better — could.

"I'll do it," she didn't know if she could, but she would. She would do it and go home. "Don't worry about it."

The stylist pursed her lips in a tight smile, but before anything could be said, there was a knock on the door. Robert Westerfall walked in with a bright smile on his face. He was delighted to have his daughter survive; nothing could kick him off his high, and nothing could annoy Daphne more. "You look gorgeous,"

"Thank you," Daphne muttered, turning to her father. She didn't enjoy his company anymore. At least not right now. He was so happy, so glad to have her back. He'd survived his games on luck, on surviving without even having to hurt someone. He didn't understand what she went through, not really, at least. He was too happy for having a victor as a daughter. "Let's just get this over with."

She stepped past him, only to see Johanna and Blight in the hallway. "Remember," Blight said, the mentor's following her as she walked. "Smile--"

"I know what I have to do," she snapped, lifting her dress a little too high so she could walk faster. "Smile and lie. It's literally the only thing you've told me since last night, I'm not stupid."