"And now, it's District Eleven!" Rookie shouts, making my heart catch. "Please welcome District Eleven's female tribute, Vervain Lehane!" Rookie gestures widely to the entrance to the stage and I'm ushered onto the stage.

I walk onto the stage dressed in a long, flowing peach and orange gown. My torso is covered in a halter top that was woven out of orange and peach-colored silk, small vines woven intricately into the fabric. My skirt flows from low on my waist to the floor, light as air and dancing with glitter on its orange silken surface. It flows with different layers and I twirl around, as per orders of my stylist, to show it off. My hair was down with little pink roses woven into my curls. The overwhelming scent of Rookie's perfume overtakes me as she greets me with air kisses on either cheek. She's at least six inches taller than I am, so she has to bend over slightly. Thankfully my dress makes me look taller than I actually am.

"Welcome, Vervain!" says Rookie with a bright smile, sitting down on one of the two chairs present. "Please! Sit, sit." She pats the other one and I sit down next to her, looking out into the sea of hungry eyes, waiting for me to speak my first public words since the reaping. I began to feel uncomfortable underneath the corset of my gown because it hung so closely to my skin.

"Hello, Rookie," I greet her back, smiling as best I could. It stung me to actually smile at her, her being just as much an instrument in the vile Games as the Gamemakers themselves. But I stuck it out and kept on smiling, looking as genuine as I could.

She gushes about how wonderful my dress looks and how stunning my hair is. I lick my pink-glossed lips, tasting the sweet yet artificial strawberry taste of it. "So, Vervain, let's start things off properly. "What is your motivation for these Games?" Rookie asks, leaning forward in her fuzzy pink chair.

I swallow hard, still smiling only now without baring my teeth. "Um . . . well," I debated over whether or not to tell her, and the rest of the nation, why exactly I'm so motivated to get these Games over with or just lie, but I finally chose the truth. It was lying that would gain me sponsors in this. "Well, my sister died a few months ago," I say, prompting Rookie's face to do a 180 from happy to crushed. I did my best to swallow the lump slowly forming in my throat. "And . . . and after that happened I took over the major duties in my family. I have two little sisters and another younger brother, as well as my mother. So, my motivation is to stay alive for them." Luckily for me, my voice cracked on the last word. I was on the verge of tears at the memory of sitting next to my sister on her death bed, holding her hand too tight, as she slipped away from me.

I jerk my stare up from the stage floor to our host when she speaks. "How poetic," she gushes with a wide, toothy smile, putting her hand over her heart. If there's one there. "It's so . . . full of honor that you're playing these Games for your family, Vervain."

Now I was going to make an attempt at humor. "Well, it's not like I'm playing these Games for myself, now is it?"

Rookie and the crowd erupt in laughter and I wonder if they've been giving laughing gas to make them laugh at everyone's poor, nervous jokes like that. Rookie catches her breath and puts her hand on mine. "Now, Vervain. In addition to your family, is there someone special waiting for you back home in Eleven?"

I blink at the memory of him. His blueberry eyes, blond hair. I blink again, suddenly back where I'm supposed to be. No, this isn't where I'm supposed to be at all. I smile. "There's always been somebody," I laugh with a shrug. "Isn't there always? It's always been a one-way street, kind of. But . . . at the most I can hope that he's gonna be routing for me and will . . . be there when I get back." I give my head a little shake, unintentionally further selling my emotions to the crowd.

"How sweet," the pink-haired host smiles almost dreamily at me, making me even more uncomfortable than I already was. "I'm sure he'll be watching everyday just to see you." I don't smile this time, I just look down at my black-painted nails uncomfortably. "What do you do at home, dear?"

"As in a job?" I ask, getting a quick nod in response. Okay. This is a question I can answer. I take a deep breath and do my best at a half smile. "Oh, um . . . I sort fruits and vegetables at my local market. Well, the largest one, actually. We have many in District Eleven, but there's one main market that's the most expensive. I take in the loads, sort them, make up the signs and prices, that kind of stuff."

"How exciting!" Rookie exclaims. She appears to like me all right. It's a one-way sort of attraction, something that I know all too much about unfortunately. "Now, Vervain, before we must part, are there any last words you have for the live audience here tonight?" She asks, gesturing widely to the crowd in attendance.

I look expressionlessly into the eager crowd and smirk just a little. "To be honest I feel as though this whole arrangement is barbaric and wrong, but there is not one single tribute in this entire thing that will make it so I don't get home. Because I will by any means necessary. As awful and despicable as The Games are, I know that I'm stronger than them and the other tributes. Nothing is going to stop me from getting home to what and who I love. Nothing."

Rookie, a little speechless, smiles and tries to pick things up again. "Okay! Let's have a hand for District Eleven Tribute, Vervain Lehane!" The crowd applauds her words loudly as the buzzer goes off and I walks back behind the curtain to backstage, not giving the Capitol audience a single glance.