When I come to, I'm in my bed. Well, it's not MY bed, it's some bed the Capitol had put here, to be my last proper sleep until I die. I don't know how long I was out for, but judging by the light outside, maybe a day? It takes my brain a minute to realize what this means. I'm completely un-prepared for my interview! I throw off my covers and jump out of bed, only to have a major head-rush and about fall over. Someone must've heard the ruckus, because I hear a knock. "Come in," I croak out. To my surprise, it's Thorn. He looks more tiered than normal. He doesn't say anything at first, just helps me back onto the edge of the bed and sits next to me. Finally he says "You missed interview prep." I nod. "You got a One." I nod again. More silence. I look up at him and say "How do you cope?" I seems taken aback at first then says "With what?" "Anything. Getting a One, being stripped of everything you love and sent off for saluter, you know, the works." He smiles sadly. "You don't," he tells me "You only keep going." And then he leaves. I sit there, muling over his words. I got a one. I got a one. I got a one. That's all my brain has been able to think for the past hour, while my prep team tsks and sighs over my appearance. "Nothing we can't fix!" one of them trills loudly. I just sit and stand whenever they tell me to, and then am asked to wait for my stylist, Poppy I think was her name. When she enters, I try to smile and be somewhat happy for her, but she's not buying it. "Honestly, Piper. You've gotta look the part of course, thats what I'm here for--but you've got to FEEL the part as well." "I'm trying," I mumble. She holds my chin and tilts it up. I look her in the eyes, green and glistening. She doesn't know what it's like, and she never will. All she can do is act sympathetic until I die and she has a new tribute next year. "Maybe if you look that part, you'll start to feel it as well." And with a flourish, she pulls from a black bag the most gorgeous dress I've ever seen. Strapless, shimmering and black with the short skirt looking as if it had been dipped in molten lava. All I can do is stare. She laughs and says "Alright, let's get this thing on you!" Poppy has me close my eyes while she puts the dress on me, which makes me want to open the over more of course, but I obey. Then Poppy walks me over to what I know is a mirror and says "And...open!" So I do, and what I see takes my breath away. I have to admit, I, or rather this stranger wearing this dress and make-up, look radiant. My dark make-up arches in a triangle shape from my eye lid almost all to way to my eye brows. A glittering gel of sorts makes my eyelashes look five times longer than they really are, and my bright red lipstick is practically blinding. But the dress. Oh the dress. It fits like a glove, and I seem to glow when I wear it, even though I know it's just the light. It's my first time in front of a mirror in a few days, but I'm so happy that this is what I see. Not the broken, scored a one girl from a few hours ago. I turn and hug Poppy. I don't know where that impulse came from, but I did anyway. She gave a "oh!" and patted me on the back and said "Be careful! You don't want to wrinkle the dress!" I stepped back and said "Thank you." She looked at me for a moment and said "Now that's what I call feeling the part." And I smiled.
