TRIBUTE X

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Suzanne Collins' characters, nor am I Suzanne Collins (though I can dream).

Author's Note: Azalea, Silene, Felix, Remus, etc. are all mine. Please do not copy (not like anyone would want to. XD)

Azalea is our main character in our story here. However, the POV may change for short periods of time throughout the story. I won't indicate so, (sorry. XD)

Comments and Criticism are greatly welcome. If you guys want me to put up a Guide of the Districts, I will willingly do so. Just say the word. :D

And Finally, I hope you enjoy!

Part 1: Tribute X

"So how do you feel?" This was a wretched question. It wasn't that she didn't have an answer; it was more a feeling that she didn't feel comfortable saying it while this was broadcasted live.

"To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel…" she began with a lie. "It's something I can't read, which amazes me." The audience laughed. "I guess only time can tell. I'm afraid I'm not sure right now." She knew it was good to leave it off like that.

"Really? No… pride, or sorrow, grief? I mean, you've just won the 99th Hunger Games. Don't you feel something?" She knew he wasn't lying about that. She had won, and she did feel something. She knew its name. But she obviously didn't say it. "I never said I felt nothing. I guess it's a mix of all that. I can describe it as overwhelming at least." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm going to miss all those I've been with throughout the games, and I'll be glad that I'll never see this place again. No offense."

The audience laughed again, as did the man who was interviewing. His name was Remus Flickerman, conveniently the son of the previous interviewer. His hair was a fiery red at the ends, like it had recently been lit aflame, and his suit glittered the same color. (His hair was naturally a dark brown.) And he was just as charming as his father had been for the cameras.

"None taken. I assume after all this corruption you want to go back to your normal life, eh?" There was no doubt that's what she wanted. But she knew that was exactly what she would never get. You couldn't have a normal life after you were a tribute to the Hunger Games.

"Oh, most definitely." She leaned back into the couch and rested her hands behind her head.

"What are you going to do first?" Remus asked with curiosity in his tone. He leaned forwards, placing his elbows on his knees.

"I'm going to sit back like this and try to forget you people." She smirked. Once again the audience roared with laughter. They don't take anything seriously, do they?

"Honestly, I just want to go home and dive into a deep pool of clear water, without having to worry that there's someone behind my back wanting to kill me." Her fire-orange eyes gleamed with lost longing. "It's the one place I can think really. It's the one place where I can trace back my memories and get lost in the past." Her tone was sincere and soft.

Remus smiled. "That's a beautiful thought, Azalea. How about a round of applause for our brilliant young lady?" The crowd howled and cheered with a thunderous applause. Azalea wondered how many of them really liked her. "You've been through a lot, Azalea. And if it's what you want, I hope we never see you again either." The crowd laughed. "No offense."

"None taken." She flashed a grin and sat straight again in her dress. It was meant to resemble the flower she was named after, Azalea, the white kind. At the tips it faded to orange though, and the body portion was a pure white. It only reached to her knees, and it frilled out like petals at the ends. She wore white slip-ons too; she never liked heels. Azalea told her stylist she was a runner, not some fashion model who loved to kill their ankles.

"And that's our lovely Azalea Fellin. A final applause, if you will!" Everyone in the crowd rose to their feet, and from what she could see, most of them were cheering and hooting. Azalea flashed one more friendly grin for them as the cameras shut down and the lights flickered off. She didn't change her countenance after they went off either. She knew there were going to be more people waiting, waiting to talk to her and ask her more questions. It was going to be an endless torture.

"Hey, great job up there, if I'd say so, myself." Remus' silky voice whispered into her ear behind her. "The crowd loves you."

"Yeah, well…" Azalea smiled and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. She ran her fingers through her dark brown hair. It had been curled at the ends, another courtesy of her stylist. "They'll grow to love a lot of people. I certainly won't be the last tribute, at this rate."

Remus' coat sparkled even though the darkness and his eyes glowed too, a soft periwinkle she had observed early on. He smirked, showing his pearly white teeth. "That is true. But certainly you'll be among their favourites." He fixed his collar and led her out. She was slightly confused when she realized there weren't any obnoxious crowds of people, or flashing lights. It was a long glass hallway, which had a good view of the Capitol that led to the room that she was going to be in for only one more day. "Where are we going?"

"I'm leading you the long way around, so you can avoid the crowds. I know you have distaste for the interviewers. And the cameras." He grinned.

Azalea didn't want to make him feel that way. "You're not like them. You won't stalk me all the way back to District 9." District 9, her home, and a place she couldn't wait to get back to, in a way. But she knew it would never really feel like home again, no matter how hard she thought.

A laugh broke from Remus' lips. "Aye, I won't be doing that. I've got matters to attend to here. I'll leave that job for the others."

"Meanie." She teased as they walked through a door, leading them into a large red room. The walls had gold patters swirling up from the bottom, and trying to reach for the top. The furniture lining was gold too, but the wood was a mahogany. Waiting at a mirror was her stylist, a young man, whose skin was tanned a little and his hair was a jet black. It was tinged golden at the ends, like Remus' hair was; only it was pulled back. He wore a simple tan t-shirt, worn out jeans and black sneakers. He seemed like no special stylist. But whoever thought that was quickly proven wrong. He smirked as they entered.

"Finally, Remus, I thought you were just going to annoy me and take her through the interview crowds."

"I could have, if I wanted to, Felix. But I decided I'd rather not get this nice suit dirty. Thanks, by the way, for having it made. It's lovely." His grin was slightly mischievous.

"Aye, no problem." He had a long stride as he walked over to the two of them. He threw a small sack of money to Remus. "And thank you." He nodded curtly. So this wasn't a matter of kindness, it was just because he was being paid. Bastard.

Remus caught it in midair and it disappeared into the coat. Then he nodded curtly back and raised his hand in a farewell salute. "See ya, Felix. And you too, Azalea. Don't worry, we'll meet again soon. At your victory tour, remember?"

Inwardly, she cursed. No, she hadn't forgotten, she just didn't want to be reminded. "Aye, let's not rush it now." She let her countenance remain calm and smooth. Remus left the glorious room laughing.

The moment the door slammed behind Remus, a frown broke Felix's face, replacing the smug smirk that only existed a few moments ago. He turned his gaze onto Azalea and tugged at her shoulder, forcing her to sit down. She fell into a sitting position on to the fluffy red couch. "Alright, what's going on here?"

"What do you mean, 'what's going on here'? Between me and Remus? Nothing, that guy just annoys the heck out of me." Not completely true, but just to prove a point. Felix shoved his palm into her shoulder. "You know darn well that's not what I meant."

"Then what the heck did you mean? I'm not a mind reader, Felix!" Azalea raised her voice. Not yet. A dark, smooth voice said calmly in the back of her mind. Her eyes flared, really looking like fire now, showing the kind of anger when you have no idea what's going on.

"I'm talking about your strategy; and how you act so calmly about it in front of the cameras!" he tried to lower his voice; it was a failed attempt. "I knew you were intelligent, Lea, but I didn't realize you were a sly fox." He spat at the end, as if there was nightshade on his tongue. That pair of chocolate brown eyes were filled of rage; but that was only a veil to the real betrayal he felt inside. Though he knew the betrayal wasn't his.

"I'm not a sly fox!" she exclaimed in outrage. "I was trying to stay alive! Like everyone else was out there. And my odds were low from the beginning…"

"Oh yeah, sure. Miss 'I got rated a three, but I managed to kill about a dozen or more tributes in cold blood'. Sure your odds were really low." Felix's was pressing his lips together, even after all the blood had left them. He turned his back to her, questioning why he was even talking to her right now. He wanted to know if she had planned it all from the beginning. He wanted to know why she did what she did, and if she was really thinking about them, or her victory. But all his thoughts only managed to come out as one question. "What were you thinking… when they called your name?"

Azalea's gaze went soft. The fire had waned in her eyes. She knew she didn't want to remember that. But there were plenty of things about it she was going to remember. Slowly, her mind swirled back into that time, which seemed so long ago. All the pictures flashed before her eyes, as if she was there once more. Back to the time before she truly knew fear. Fear and death.