𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲

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〔 GLORY AND GORE: PART ONE 〕
CHAPTER THREE
— pieces of the game.


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I STAND NAKED IN FRONT OF A WALL OF MIRRORS AS I LET MY EYES FALL OVER MY SLENDER FRAME. The few days of travel from District 4 to the Capitol are quick, and as soon as our train arrives, Finnick and I are whisked away to meet with stylists and prep teams who can't wait to get their hands on us. I look over my pale, naked form in the mirrors, taking notice of the curve of my body as my waist meets my hips and the slight way in which my ribs poke out from beneath my blanch skin.

My prep team spends the entire day stripping my body of any hair, waxing my legs and arms, plucking at my unkempt eyebrows, and giving my long hair a needed trim. They've bathed me in an endless amount of soaps and oils packed with ingredients that are unknown to me but hold benefits I never would have imagined there being a need for in the first place. Then, when they've finished, they marvel at their hard work before ushering me into a large room where I'm told my stylist will arrive any minute to begin discussing what my entrance to the upcoming Tribute Parade will entail.

I consider the idea that because Finnick is my District partner, my outfit will most certainly accommodate some form of nudity. I try to imagine what his stylist has planned for him, and in turn, what my matching outfit will look like as the door to the large room opens and closes with a click. I turn, seeing a woman standing near the door, observing my naked body with squinted blue eyes. I know she's my stylist, as no one else would be granted to enter the room with me in such an exposed state, but she's so normal looking compared to the rest of the Capitol people that I don't recognize her as being who she's supposed to be.

"This is perfect," She declares, and she walks across the room to grab a silky white robe off a hook on the wall beside me.

She's beautiful, beautiful in a way that seems so different from the standards the Capitol holds for their women. She looks utterly natural, nothing on her appears to have been enhanced, and she holds her slender frame gracefully on strikingly long legs. The only thing that exemplifies her Capitol flare is her clothes, all a shade of shimmering gold that hug the curve of her body, and her hair, naturally a honey blonde with sporadic licks of royal blue.

She walks towards me, opening the robe and draping it across my shoulders as she helps me slip my arms through the holes before tying the strings in a perfect bow around my waist. Taking a step backward, she takes in my form once more, smiling kindly as she meets my eyes.

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