The Price of Beauty (Hunger Games Fanfic) Pt. 1
The Price of Beauty (Hunger Games Fanfic) Pt. 1 hungergames stories
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Persephone Valentine has forever lived in her mother's shadow. Desperate to overcome the role of second best, she and her cousin become the first ever student stylists. But what will happen when she's outshined by the horrid District 12 tributes and their soppy love story?

The Price of Beauty (Hunger Games Fanfic) Pt. 1

The familiar smell of the fabric shop fills my nose as I take a step in, the bell over head ringing. Anastasia, the owner, likes burning campfire and rosemary scented candles.

The familiar smell of the fabric shop fills my nose as I take a step in, the bell over head ringing. Anastasia, the owner, likes burning campfire and rosemary scented candles. It's an odd combination, but it's constant and has stayed the same her whole life, unlike the extravagant and ever-changing fashion trends in the Capitol.

I glance down at the slip of pastel pink paper my mother gave me. I do all of her shopping now, even though we have an Avox.

I glance down at the slip of pastel pink paper my mother gave me. I do all of her shopping now, even though we have an Avox. Last time she trusted Dandelion with shopping for fabric, she came home with bright green velvet, an absolute no-no.

I wave to Anastasia and she gives me a small smile. Her hair is pink today and lays on her shoulders in two thick curls. She has on orange eyeshadow and a lipstick shade matching her hair.

I wave to Anastasia and she gives me a small smile. Her hair is pink today and lays on her shoulders in two thick curls. She has on orange eyeshadow and a lipstick shade matching her hair. Her dress is a small, red thing. It's sleeveless and stops mid-thigh. She's always one to try the new fashion trends.

I run my hand along the fabrics. My mother hadn't specified any type of fabric, she just said something that screams new and improved.

I run my hand along the fabrics. My mother hadn't specified any type of fabric, she just said something that screams new and improved. When it comes to my mother, anything she wears is new and improved. Everyone's trying to imitate her and what she wears. Some have even copied her signature heart tattoos.

I have one on my lower back, just to prove I'm a Valentine, but it's hidden most of the time.

My hand stops on a silk fabric. I turn and look at it. It's a deep, royal purple. Something a king would've worn thousands of years ago. I grab it from off the shelf.

My hand stops on a silk fabric. I turn and look at it. It's a deep, royal purple. Something a king would've worn thousands of years ago. I grab it from off the shelf. My mother wouldn't care for this color, but I would. And if I want to convince her I'm fit to be a stylist, I have to do things no one's ever done before.

I grab canvas-y orange fabric for my mother and bring it up to the counter. Anastasia smiles at me while she checks my things out. "Are you ready for the Games?" She asks.

I grab canvas-y orange fabric for my mother and bring it up to the counter. Anastasia smiles at me while she checks my things out. "Are you ready for the Games?" She asks. I nod. "More nervous than anything, I think. My mother's letting me help her with her tribute."

Anastasia's eyes widen. "They're letting a student be a stylist?"

Anastasia's eyes widen. "They're letting a student be a stylist? "More like co-stylist, but yeah. President Snow says it'd be a wonderful learning opportunity. Andromeda is doing it too."

Andromeda is my best friend and cousin. Our mothers are sisters and are both successful stylists. We were both stoked when our mothers allowed us to work with them.

Anastasia puts the fabric in the white paper bags that say "The Fabric Shoppe" in cursive letters and hands it to me. "Make them beautiful." She says, and winks.

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