True Confessions
A Hunger Games oneshot
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games or any of the characters mentioned in it.
Portia adjusts the collar of my suit with excitement in her eyes. I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "You look perfect, Peeta," she tells me, shoving me over to the mirror. I can see myself clearly now, a black suit with stunning flame accents. "You and Katniss are going to make a lovely District 12 pair."
"Thank you, Portia," I say, trying to show my gratitude in my voice. These people have turned District 12 from naked coal dust miners into striking flames, illuminating us in a way that no other stylist ever has. Sure, they're making us look great before we die, but at least we had a chance.
"Trust me, Peeta, the crowd will love you both. Caesar Flickerman works hard to make sure it goes that way with every tribute," Portia says, trying to encourage me.
We meet up with the rest of our group from District 12 at the elevator. I almost stop dead at the sight of Katniss in a dress that looks like it's entirely made of jewels. Her skin is covered in fine golden dust, her clothes bejewled with tongues of fire. It's amazing... but a little over-the-top for her. I think of the first day of school, when we were both five and she had on that red plaid dress... hair done in two braids and not one...
Stop it. You'll have enough time for that later... during the interview.
I look up and meet Katniss's eyes, luminous and gray against her radiant face. They're also looking a bit worried, but I'm not saying anything. Effie and Haymitch are also fancied up for the interviews, but I can tell that Katniss is completely tuning out Haymitch for the time being. Effie compliments both of us, telling us how great we look together, but- vice versa from Katniss- I'm not really paying that much attention. I unintentionally catch Haymitch's eye and he gives me a discreet wink. Haymitch... discreet... this is not a normal day.
Of course not. It's a day in the Hunger Games, for goodness' sake.
When the elevator opens, the other tributes are being lined up to take the stage. All twenty-four of us sit in a big arc throughout the interviews. District 12 is- as usual- scheduled to be last. As the boy from District 12, I will be the very last one to be interviewed. I hope what I say will still have some sort of effect after twenty-three interviews are over. Just like the Gamemakers, the audience is bound to get bored. And Katniss can't exactly shoot an arrow at them to get them to pay attention. No matter, she'll probably command their full attention the minute she steps up and shakes Caesar Flickerman's hand.
Right before we parade onstage, Haymitch comes up behind the two of us. "Remember, you're still a happy pair. So act like it," he growls. I'm guessing this is more for Katniss's benefit than mine.
I can see Katniss trying to work through this confusing new order- probably because Haymitch told her I'd asked to be coached separately- but she doesn't have much time to do it before we're herded in single file onto the stage. As I watch, I can see her breath coming in shallow and rapid pulses. I guess stages and nerves just aren't her thing. We find our seats and sit; Katniss is trembling, I can feel it from where I sit. She's shaking pretty hard. I think the District 11 tributes can probably feel it too.
Or maybe you pay too much attention to her and notice way too many details, a voice chimes in my head.
Shut up.
But I can't shake the feeling that the voice is right.
Caesar Flickerman bounces onto the stage, his color for this year's Games a freakish powder blue. At least he doesn't look like he's bleeding, like he did last year. He tells a few jokes to warm up the huge audience- standing room only in the brightly lit City Circle- but gets down to business.
Glimmer, the girl tribute from 1, comes up in a provocative, sheer golden gown. She's tall, with emerald green eyes and flowing blonde hair. Obviously, she's meant to be sexy, but I just can't feel attracted to her. The same way I haven't been able to be attracted to anybody except the shaking mess of nerves that's sitting right next to me. It makes me a little mad, that they can turn someone so strong and brave into someone that can hardly stand from anxiety. She keeps trying to dry her sweating palms on her dress, but jewels don't absorb much of anything. I wish I could offer her the use of my sleeve, but it would seem weird.
The districts slip by. Marvel, the boy from 1. Clove, the girl from 2, and Cato, the ruthless killing machine that also comes from 2. The boy and girl from 3. The boy and girl from 4. Both from 5... the girl from District 5 is sly, elusive, and ultimately like a fox. 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. The boy from 10 is very quiet. District 11. Rue...
I curse the Capitol, the Hunger Games, every single stupid thing on this earth that would allow such a little girl to be thrown into a vicious fight to the death to be murdered.
Rue flutters up to Caesar, a little ethereal wisp of a tribute, dressed in gossamer, complete with wings. The audience falls silent at the sight of this magical little girl.
I wonder how many of them are feeling sorry for her. How many of them will weep when she is put in that arena with twenty-three tributes bent on killing each other.
Caesar, to his credit, is very sweet with her. He compliments her seven in training- I still wonder how she could have impressed the Gamemakers so thoroughly when she's so tiny- and asks her what her greatest strength will be in the arena. Rue doesn't hesitate a bit.
"I'm very hard to catch, and if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out." Her voice is trembling a little, but she's firm and determined. I can't help but think that maybe she can win... if she's as hard to catch as she says, and if she's as sensible as she seems, she'll sit up in a tree somewhere and watch us all beat each other senseless. Then she'll be the only one left and she'll win.
Rue's time is up and she's followed by Thresh, a very solitary tribute. He was offered a place with the Careers, but rejected their company. Instead he's been speaking to no one. I wonder if Rue and Thresh know each other. Thresh reminds me of Katniss when she's with Haymitch- sullen and hostile. He ignores Caesar's attempts at banter and simply answers "yes" or "no" to each question that offers the chance. Katniss is looking a bit green under the golden glitter, but her eyes are envious. I'm a bit confused until I realize that she wishes that she could act the same way as Thresh. If she did- and if she were Thresh's size- I'm sure she thinks that she'd have a bunch of sponsors.
They call Katniss Everdeen and Katniss walks up as if in a dream. She shakes Caesar's hand and they begin. I hang on to every word.
"So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District 12. What's impressed you the most since you arrived here?" Caesar inquires.
Katniss is looking a little bit panicked, her eyes roaming through the crowd, desperately searching for something. She finds Cinna and locks eyes with him, then chokes out an answer. "The lamb stew." Lamb stew? She's more nervous than I thought. Poor Katniss. I'm not as nervous as she is. I wish I could lend her some strength to get her through this, but Caesar will have to do it instead.
Caesar and some of the audience start to laugh. "The one with the dried plums?" he asks, and she nods. "Oh, I eat it by the bucketful." He turns sideways to the audience, hand on his stomach. "It doesn't show, does it?" he asks in horror, as the crowd applauds and shouts reassurance to him.
"Now, Katniss, when you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?" Caesar asks, confidentially.
"You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?" Katniss asks. I think of the dazzling- yet terrifying- flames and try hard not to grin.
Big laugh from the audience.
"Yes. Start then," says Caesar.
"I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing this, either." She spreads out her stunning bejeweled skirt. "I mean, look at it!"
Ooohs and aahs emanate from the audience. Katniss twirls and is engulfed in tongues of fire, her skin glittering, ablaze in flames. "Oh, do that again," encourages Caesar, and she twirls and twirls, letting the dress completely cocoon her in sparkling fire. I am utterly dazed by her radiance. I see this beautiful creature, and I know her beautiful spirit. Beautiful. She is beautiful...
She finally stops as the audience breaks into cheers, swaying and clutching Caesar's arm. "Don't stop!" he says.
"I have to, I'm dizzy!" Katniss is- to my amazement- giggling. I've never seen her giggle, ever. But maybe nerves+spinning=hysterical giggles. The equation makes sense to me. A recipe for giggles... maybe, if I win, I can invent a type of bread that makes people giggle from happiness. A kind of bread that erases sorrow.
We sure could use it.
Caesar wraps a protective arm around her. "Don't worry, I've got you," he says. "Can't have you following in your mentor's footsteps." The crowd hoots and hollers as the cameras point at Haymitch, who good-naturedly waves them away and redirects them at Katniss.
"It's all right, she's safe with me," Caesar assures the crowd. "So, how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint what happened in there."
Katniss bites her lip and glances at the Gamemakers on the balcony. "Um... all I can say, is I think it was a first."
"You're killing us," says Caesar in a pained voice. "Details. Details."
She addresses the balcony instead. "I'm not supposed to talk about it, right?"
One of the Gamemakers shouts back, "She's not!" to the crowd.
"Thank you. Sorry. My lips are sealed," Katniss says.
Caesar's mood quiets a little and he continues. "Let's go back, then, to the moment they called your sister's name at the reaping. And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?"
Katniss hesitates. "Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything."
The City Circle is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"What did she say to you? After the reaping?" Caesar asks. Katniss swallows hard. "She asked me to try really hard to win."
"And what did you say?" Caesar's prompt is gentle, but Katniss tenses up and her eyes suddenly take on a cold, stone cast. Her voice seems to have dropped an octave from her giggling before.
"I swore I would." The power and fierceness and stark grim determination in her voice makes my entire body chill.
"I bet you did," Caesar says, his voice lightening the moment, giving Katniss a squeeze. The buzzer goes off. "Sorry, we're out of time. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve."
There's a lot of applause for Katniss as they call my name. Peeta Mellark. I walk up to Caesar and shake his hand, trying to be calm. The reality of what I'm about to do is slowly sinking in for the first time. But Haymitch approves, and this is the best way to make us unforgettable.
I hope it can still work after twenty-three other interviews.
"So, Peeta, how's your experience in the Capitol been? Had any lamb stew?" Caesar asks with a friendly smile.
"Of course," I reply. "But what really got me was the different kinds of bread I found here. I mean, being the baker's son and all, back in the district, it interested me. And the resemblance between some of these tributes and their bread is remarkable." The audience starts laughing. "I mean, you know the bread from District 11? The crescent-moon roll with seeds? I looked at it, and I thought, you know, that little girl from 11 and the seeds on this bread are very similar. They're both so small and cute. And then I thought, the boy from 11 is like the actual roll, all solitary and steady. You know what I mean?"
"I catch your drift," Caesar says with a wink and a smile. "And how does the Capitol bread compare, Baker Mellark?"
"It's all very fine, very good quality, but some of the other things in the Capitol are quite perilous for us district people. Have you ever been caught in a Capitol shower? I fell against all the buttons yesterday and ended up taking a bath in flower-scented soap and hot water. Tell me, do I still smell like roses?" I ask Caesar, and we take turns sniffing each other. The audience is howling with laughter. When we stop, Caesar asks the question that brings me back into my- and Haymitch's- plan.
"You're quite a pleasant fellow, Mr. Mellark. You must have a girlfriend back home?"
I hesitate and give a purposely unconvincing shake of the head.
"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" perists Caesar.
I sigh. Katniss Everdeen, I think, but I can't say that. I have to put on some kind of suspense before the blow or it'll look fake. And it's far from fake. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping," is what I say instead.
Sounds of sympathy from the crowd.
"She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.
"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," I answer.
"So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" says Caesar encouragingly.
"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning..." I swallow. "Winning won't help in my case."
"Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified. This is it.
I already knew what I was going to say, but it's different saying it out loud in front of her after all these years. I blush beet red and stammer, "Because... because... she came here with me."
My eyes go down to the floor. I don't want to see Katniss's face. She might think it's a trick... she might fall for it, and then I'd be broken up at not telling her until the time when it would seem manipulative... I don't think I could handle that. Haymitch is using this as an arena strategy, but I can't stand seeing Katniss find out that it is one. And she would ridicule me if I told her that it was all real. Insist that we have to kill each other. And... revelations of confessions don't really carry much personal weight in the Hunger Games.
Even when they're true.