The last remains of the wedding dress burned away. The crowd went ballistic as Katniss Everdeen raised her wings. The beautiful bride had transformed into a striking Mockingjay.

"My, my, my!" Ceasar proclaimed when the crowd finally managed to calm down. "Your stylist has certainty outdone himself this time!" Ceasar forced a laugh as Cinna rose and took a bow much to the excitement of the Capitol citizens.

Ceasar looked once more at Katniss' dress and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew what this meant. "I'm sure we won't see anything like this again," he spoke the words around a smile as he glanced at Cinna. He knew Snow would never tolerate this act of defiance. The stylist was as good as dead

Cinna pinned the gold Mockingjay pin on Katniss. "Remember, I'm still betting on you, girl on fire."

"Thank you," Katniss breathed as she hugged her stylist for the last time.

Cinna heard a ruckus in the hallway. They were coming. He gentle but forcefully pulled Katniss away from him and escorted her to the platform. Dread slowly began to build as he waited for it to rise.

His heart sank when he heard the door open behind him. Cinna always channeled his emotions into his work so he wouldn't hurt anyone but himself but oh, how he wished Katniss didn't have to watch this...

An aching head drove Cinna back into consciousness. His feet dragging on the ground as two Peacekeepers dragged him through a hallway and the sickly taste of blood burned the back of his throat. Dark bruises began to form on his skin as The Peacekeepers shoved him through a door and forced him to his knees.

"I normally like to take a more… personal approach with things like this," Snow said. His back turned the stylist, Snow watched the monitors in front of him, all showing a different angle of the bloodshed. "But I'm pressed for time so I'll make this quick."

Cinna remained silent, watching as Katniss, Peeta, Finnick, and Mags ran for safety. He closed his eyes and sighed. They were safe for now. Haymitch's plan was working.

Snow rose from his seat and headed towards Cinna. Two Peacekeepers kept a tight grip on him in case the stylist had another trick up his sleeve. Cinna kept his gaze on the ground as President Snow spoke.

"You are brilliant, Cinna. I really don't want to kill you." The President admitted, adjusting the white rose pinned to his coat. "So I will give you a chance to use your talents for the greater good. Join my cause. I will let you live if you help put an end to this rebellion."

For a while Cinna was silent and the president began to lose his patience. Grimacing, Cinna looked up at Snow and drew a slow, painful breath. "The people will continue to fight as long as there is a thread of hope."

Fists clenched, Snow's eyes lit up with fury and for a moment he truly looked like the madman he was. "Then the thread must be cut," Snow spat.

Cinna just stared at the wall, exhausted but at peace. For the moment, the Mockingjay lived. "Go ahead," he whispered.

With a nod from Snow, the Peacekeeper on his right drew his gun, placed it on the back of Cinna's head and pulled the trigger.

The brilliant stylist was no more.

Reaching in his pocket, Snow pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his sweaty forehead. "Get him out of here," he ordered. The Peacekeepers dragged Cinna's lifeless body from the room and Snow returned to his seat to watch the 75th Annual Hunger games. This time he would be sure the odds were in his favor.