A Game of Chance [A Hunger Games Fanfiction]
Author: Phoenix Summers

Chapter 8
The Stylists

I stroll through the crowd - Hunter, Damon and the team behind me - happily. These Capitol citizens have been brought up to love district 1, which means that we already have a distinct advantage. Although... their fashions are rather bizzare. I don't think I could ever were one of their dresses. I'd be far too embarassed to even show myself.


Joe quickly speeds up, so that he is leading our little 'procession'. I look at his newly dyed pink hair in distaste as he calls over his shoulder to us to say close. I inwardly roll my eyes. Well, what does he think we're going to do? Run off? Not very likely.


Suddenly, I can hear a scuffle behind me. I whip my head around, and see Hunter being restrained by four guards, a wild look in her eyes. From their iron-tight grip I can gather that she tried to make a break for it. As they shackle her wrists and ankles I shake my head in digust. As if she could be a career. She isn't even nearly subtle enough.


Joe purses up his lips tightly and gestures at a building on our far right, just set apart slightly from the other buildings. I have to blink twice before I can realise what I am seeing. What, up until a few seconds ago, I had thought to be a house, were actually three houses joined up, with our names etched onto the doors. I stare in amazement, then turn off my emotions. I know that it is a Quarter Quell, but a house for each tribute?


Joe points to the houses and I immediately get the fact that they back onto the training centre. I then realise that he wants us to go inside. Remembering the previous games, I think immediately of the chariots.


The Stylists. Of course.


I take a deep breath and walk into the building closest to me; with the name 'Diamond' on. Gathering my courage, I push open the unlocked door, which locks after me as I go in.


I am immediately greeted by human sized green furballs. I back away slightly, alarmed, then realise that this is my prep team. Great, so now I get to be prepared by people covered in mould. My brain goes numb at the very thought.


"Are you my prep team?" I ask, already knowing the answer. In reply the tallest furball nodds.


"I'm Aqugua" he says in a prounonced Capitol accent. He then points to the other two beside him, starting with the man on the right. "This is Girald, and Relda. We're your prep team."


Great. I have the mouldiest prep team around. I indroduce myself then resign myself to what I know is going to come, sooner or later.


Two hours later, they have finishes their work on me. My arms and legs are smooth, the birthmark I had just below my lip has vanished. I glare at them. I liked that birthmark. I get up, and without a word of thanks, turn to leave. I then have to bite back a scream. A grotesque man is standing by the door, grinning evily at me. He indroduces himself, and I am horrified to realise that he is...


My stylist.


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