"Dahlia Blossom. Don't let the name fool you. She's better known as the Black Dahlia. And she didn't earn that nickname by smiling and looking pretty."
"She sure knows how to perform for the camera."
"Because she knows how to play the game. She alwa...
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The six months leading up to Dahlia's Victory Tour were anything but the calm and peaceful time she had been craving. Although the Blossom family were moved into the Victors' Village, their new house was big enough for them to avoid Dahlia like the plague. They tiptoed around her as if they were walking on egg shells, terrified of upsetting or aggravating her. Their distance hurt more than any physical wound Dahlia could ever receive.
Most of her time was now spent at Alaric's house, which was right across the street. The pair enjoyed each other's company, finding solace in someone who had gone through similar experiences. He was also the only person Dahlia had left who knew how tortured her mind had become. Dreams plagued by distorted memories. Manic episodes where she's convinced that Cove's blood is on her hands. Sheer terror whenever she's plunged into complete darkness. Some nights, Dahlia relived the moment where she was falling down the tunnel and her body feels like it's plummeting through a never-ending pit. She always finds herself jerking awake with a jolt as if she had finally landed on solid ground.
Alaric's house was the only place she felt like she could be herself. Her family had made it quite clear that they didn't know who she was anymore and the rest of her district was stuck on the idea that she was a coldhearted bitch. With Alaric, Dahlia got the chance to be what she truly was; a child. Together they found a happiness that could only come from a healthy father-daughter relationship.
Dahlia taught him how to cook. Alaric taught her how to tend to his garden.
She opened up to him about the pain caused from Cove's death and her family's hurtful avoidance. He told her about the loved ones that were taken from him and showed her the tattoo he has with the names of every tribute he's ever mentored.
It was a light in the darkness for both of them. Neither would have survived this long without the other. And they would be clinging on even tighter as the tour was rapidly approaching.
"You are nervous." Alaric observes, reclining in an armchair as he watches Dahlia race around her room in a flurry.
"And here I thought I was doing such a good job at hiding it." Dahlia replies in a deadpan tone, trying to work out what she'd need to take with her on a tour of the districts. Would the Capitol provide her with everything she needs? Or was she required to bring her own things? She felt so underprepared for this. "Six months of freedom from the prying eyes of Panem and now I'm being thrown straight back in."
"You should feel grateful that Snow has left you alone for those six months. I'm afraid the publicity is something you'll have to get used to." Alaric informs her with a grim expression. "They will be expecting you to step up alongside me as a mentor." Dahlia groans loudly before flopping face-first onto the bed. She screams into the duvet with her legs kicking out like a toddler. Chuckling at her childish behaviour, Alaric scoops her body up and flings her carefully over his shoulder. "Come on, flower. I'm sure Juno's had your entire wardrobe planned out for months."
