[The Hunger Games Trilogy is copyrighted to Suzanne Collins. I own nothing but my sunburn.]
Cato shifted in his seat as Cesar Flickerman continued to ask him unimportant questions that wouldn't help him gain any sponsers.
He wasn't worried though. He had The Games in the bag. He knew his brute strength and confidence would be enough to gain sponsers.
His district partner, Clove, might have a harder time. She was small but menacing. Her build allowed her to move quickly and she was very skilled with knives.
"Now Cato, how do you plan to win?" Cesar asked in a curious tone of voice. "If I told you that I'd have to kill you." He smirked.
Cesar rebounded with a generic remark. The rest of the interview passed slowly, as if each second lasted a century.
The blonde haired boy grew bored quickly but could feel his audience devouring his every word. They loved him. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it. It came to him easily, too easily.
The monotonous interview waned on as Cato's mind drifted to Clove. He could feel her staring at him from the backstage line-up.
They put her in some frilly frock that just wasn't her. How they got it on her was beyond Cato.
She never wore anything girly since he had known her. He had been her training partner since he could remember.
Clove was a vicious fighter who could kill you before you even thought about blinking.
The buzzer sounded and Cato walked off the stage wordlessly.
He smelled Clove's perfume as he walked past her, it was something he couldn't identfy combined with lilac.
Her dress complimented her in all of the right places and made her pale skin look like porcelin.
He saw a slight blush appear on Clove's face as she noticed him taking in the sight of her. "Don't mess this up!" Cato called to her from down the hall.