Dahlia never set out to earn herself a nickname. She didn't strive to be adored by the Capitol. She had just wanted to make an impression. And she had made more of an impression than she ever thought she would. The Tribute Parade was the next step in securing her place in the hearts (and pockets) of the people of the Capitol.

Juno had created a work of art in just one evening. A sleek black dress adorned her body, falling all the way to the floor. It was an elevated version of her dress in the Reaping and kept up with the dark theme her nickname suggests. The link to District Five came in the form of large sleeves of fabric flowing from her shoulders to the floor. The material was smooth and light but was embroidered with silver jewels all the way down. The gleaming silver reflected off the shining lights of the Capitol and looked like ripples of electricity flowing down her arms. A fake black dahlia flower was pinned into the sleek low bun that her hair had been scraped into and small silver gems decorating her eyelids completed the look.

Dahlia Blossom, the poor girl from District Five, looked unrecognisable. Because it wasn't Dahlia Blossom staring back at her in the mirror. It was the Black Dahlia. A persona she has created. A character she could sculpt into a winner. She may feel like a little girl playing dress-up but the audience would see exactly what she wanted them to see. A Victor.

"Ah, here's your district partner." Juno announces as Wyatt is practically dragged forward by his own stylist. Juno smirks at the aggravated face of the stylist as the pair approach the chariot. "Have a good time, Zeus? My darling flower here was an absolute angel."

The other stylist, Zeus, just glared with a shake of his head. Dahlia was glad Wyatt was making someone else's life miserable for a change. He was like a dark cloud that came to rain on everyone's parade. But Dahlia wasn't going to let him ruin her chances. She would throw him from the chariot if she must.

"Well done for dragging him out. I was prepared to go alone." Dahlia compliments Zeus, quirking a taunting eyebrow at Wyatt. The boy was wearing an all-black outfit, in an attempt to profit off of Dahlia's new nickname, with similar sleeves as his district partner. He just sneered in reply and attempted to rub the glitter out of his eye. Zeus slapped his hand quickly to stop the boy ruining the makeup.

"You two better get in the chariot. You'll be off soon." Juno states, ushering Dahlia into the black chariot and ensuring the dress sits just right. "Good luck, dear." With a kiss on her tribute's knuckles, Juno was off in a flurry of silver and Wyatt was flung in beside Dahlia.

"Are you sure we don't need to strap you in? You know, in case you run off again." Dahlia jests in a deadpan tone, not bothering to face the miserable boy next to her.

"What is your problem with me?" Wyatt snaps in a venomous tone, fists clenched by his side as he turns to her. "You seem to have always had it out for me, right from the beginning. I found out I was basically being sent to my death and you told me to pull myself together!"

"Because you were making a fool of yourself and, by extension, me." Dahlia spits back, whipping her head around to glare at the boy. "Unlike you, I choose to believe that maybe I can win this because I have sisters back home that I made a promise to. I don't need the Capitol thinking I'm a coward like you."

"You are not The Black Dahlia. That's just a stupid nickname. It doesn't change a thing about who you are." Wyatt argues, displaying an emotion other than despair for once in his time as a tribute.

"Well, who am I then? If you seem to know me so well." Dahlia retorts, hands clenching into fists at her side.

Wyatt eyes the flower in her hair with disgust. "You are Dahlia Blossom." He snatches the hair piece roughly, despite Dahlia jerking out of the way, and crushes it in his hand. "You're a pathetic stupid little girl who's in way over her head." He tosses the flower out of the chariot behind him, straight at the feet of someone walking past.

"Your quarrel is not with me, Wyatt. It is with the Capitol. If you want to go against them, be my guest. But I'm not going to let you drag me down as well." Dahlia seethes through gritted teeth and stormy eyes. "And do not take your anger out on me. Because I can assure you that I am angrier. And, if you're not careful, my face may be the last one you see." Dahlia threatens with her eyes narrowed murderously. As she goes to continue tearing into the boy, a throat clearing interrupts them.

"I believe this belongs to you, Miss Blossom." The voice belongs to a young boy the same age as Dahlia. He had sunkissed skin, golden blonde hair and eyes the colour of a tranquil sea. Finnick Odair was a glorious sight to behold. Watching him through a screen certainly didn't do justice to the god standing before her. In his hand was the discarded flower, cradled delicately as if it was his most precious possession. He had smoothed out the edges as best as he could, until most of the creases had disappeared.

With a final glare to Wyatt, Dahlia pushed past him to exit the chariot. Her eyes softened upon coming face to face with the beautiful Victor as she states, "Thank you. I apologise for Wyatt. I'm sure he was not aiming for you."

"It's alright." Finnick smiles down at her, but pulls the flower out of reach before she can take it from him. Instead, he starts to pin the dahlia back into its rightful place. Dahlia didn't know how he knew its exact placement but she didn't question him. "It's not everyday you meet a beautiful flower." Dahlia was not easily won over by a bright smile and beautiful eyes. But she had to admit that Finnick's were the most beautiful she had ever seen. And the proximity between the two of them was making her nervous. As he finishes fixing the accessory, he pulls back to let his eyes roam over the girl's face. "A word of advice... Don't lose yourself in those games." Dahlia's eyes followed his fingers as they caressed her cheek and tucked a stray strand of escaped hair behind her ear. "The Black Dahlia is just a character. Don't forget who you really are, little flower."

Finnick's confident mask slipped from his face. Over the past year, he had discovered just what it meant to be a survivor. People wanted him to pretend he was fine. They wanted to know about all the good things and ignore the bad. They didn't care that he hadn't had a decent night of sleep since before his games. They didn't care that he was constantly waiting for the next attack. They didn't care that behind closed doors, he was absolutely broken inside. All they wanted was their attractive, young Victor. And Finnick was exhausted. Until a flower landed at his feet. Not the usual red roses and colourful bouquets he's grown used to. But a black dahlia, flawed and imperfect. Beautiful.

Dahlia could see the pain hidden in his eyes. Oceans of blue littered with the memories of a boy who was forced to grow up too quickly. Nobody notices this side of Victors. The way they fracture under the weight of guilt, expectation and fear. Suddenly, she isn't looking at the face of a noble Victor but the face of a lonely boy haunted by his actions. You can take the Victor out of the game but you can't take the game out of the Victor. Alaric's words make sense. Nobody ever truly leaves that arena.

"How do I do that?" Dahlia asks quietly, as though she's trying not to spook a wounded animal.

Finnick allows a soft smile to creep onto his face, the first genuine smile he's had since before the games. "Remember who you're fighting for." His hand leaves her skin, making Dahlia feel colder without his warmth. His Capitol smirk is restored as he backs away from the District Five tribute. "I'm rooting for you, Blossom."

Dahlia tilts her chin up proudly, like the composed tribute she's pretending to be. "Thanks for the words of encouragement, Odair." With one final wink, the boy saunters off as an unfamiliar giddiness bubbles inside him.

Returning to the chariot, Dahlia pays no attention to Wyatt anymore. As much as he tries to resume the argument, Dahlia doesn't give him any satisfaction. Her mind is stuck on the golden-haired boy and she can't get him out. A dopey grin rests on her lips as she replays their conversation. Finnick Odair wants her to win. She won't be letting him down. Her head remains stuck in the clouds until movement from the chariot sends her crashing back down.

Show time.

The deafening roar of the crowd hit her ears first as the bright lights of the Capitol temporarily blinded her vision. A dazzling smile was immediately plastered onto her face and she started to wave at the audience. They scream and cheer as she blows them kisses, some nearly toppling over the railings in excitement. Dahlia does well at hiding her true feelings of disgust at the excitement the crowd displays. Wyatt, like usual, seems to be incapable of disguising how he feels and glares at the Capitol in disdain.

The parade seems neverending, the bright colours of the spectators blending into a mismatched patchwork quilt. Roses fall down from the sky like raindrops, showering Dahlia with their tokens of approval. She will surely be a favourite for these games if she keeps going like this. But this also means that she'll be a target.

The chariot slows to a stop in formation with the others as President Snow steps up to the podium. The Capitol hollers in delight, cheering on a tyrannical dictator who is responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocent children. Once the crowd settles down, Snow begins his rousing speech.

"Welcome." The voice echoes into the night air. "Tributes, we welcome you. We salute your courage and your sacrifice." Thunderous applause rains down upon the tributes, many of whom were forced here against their will. "And we wish you... Happy Hunger Games." Dahlia feels those cold, unnerving eyes piercing into her soul. The older man smirks as she stares back, determined and unafraid. She would not let him win. "And may the odds be ever in your favour."

The District Five chariot was greeted by Juno and Zeus upon their return, Magenta lingering behind them. Wyatt wasted no time storming from the chariot and marching away. Zeus grunted in annoyance but followed behind the boy nonetheless.

"My dear, that was just exquisite." Magenta explained as Juno assisted the girl in descending from the chariot. "We're on to a winner with you."

"Magenta is right, for once." Alaric states, approaching behind the escort. Dahlia smiles in relief at the impressed look on the man's face. "We'll make a Victor of you yet."

The group ignores the glares from the other tributes as they make their way to District Five's apartment. Dahlia stops Juno before they get too far. "Can you do something for me?"

Later that evening, Finnick Odair answers the door of Districit Four's apartment to find no one there. Only a familiar black dahlia pin lying on the floor.

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