You can do this, I tell myself as I step out onto the stage. Immediately, the roar of the crowd becomes deafening, and the flashing lights leave me blinded. I plaster a smile on my face for the cameras and the audience gets even louder.
I make my way towards the center of the stage where Caesar Flickerman sits across from an empty chair. I sit down and we shake hands, exchanging pleasantries for a moment before settling back in our cushy seats.
I realize I'm shaking and all of a sudden the nervousness hits me. My mentor, Griffin, had told me exactly how much is riding on this interview. My life. My family's lives. Ever since my little trick with the axe and the force field had happened, I'd had to be very cautious. President Snow and the rest of the Gamemakers apparently were not very happy with me for using their own arena against them. It made them look foolish, weak. So now Snow wants me to convince all of Panem that what I did was just a last, desperate attempt to stay alive and not in any way a rebellious act. If I do, after this final Victor's interview with Caesar I'll get to go home. If not, well…I don't want to think about that.
"So, Haymitch," Caesar begins, once the roar of the audience has died down. "How've things been since you won the Hunger Games?"
"Well, everything's certainly been different than what I'm used to," I manage to reply, though I want to say something much nastier. Griffin told me to be polite.
Caesar laughs. "Well, I would imagine!" he says. I playfully laugh along with him, trying to ignore the feeling of dread creeping up on me.
"So, how do you feel knowing you'll be boarding the train to go back to District 12 tomorrow morning?" Caesar asks.
"I'm very excited. I've been getting kind of homesick lately," I say. Which is the truth, but not all of it.
We spend the next several minutes chatting lightheartedly. I'm trying desperately not to say anything sarcastic or rude, which, of course, being me, is just about impossible.
All too soon it's over and they're dimming the lights to show the recap of my Games. I'm doing okay until it shows Maysilee's death. I have to dig my fingers into my armrests and grit my teeth to keep from screaming aloud. The moment passes, however, and I try to relax as the film continues.
I tense up as it reaches the finale. It shows me and the other tribute's big fight, me desperately crawling towards the force field, and finally, the axe embedding itself in my competitor's forehead. I'm surprised they didn't edit out me using the force field, although I suppose they couldn't, seeing as how that was what ended the Games. A loud applause follows the video and I force myself to smile, to keep the emotions I'm really feeling buried. I've gotten good at that over the past few weeks.
When the claps and cheers die down Caesar turns to me. "That was quite an impressive victory," he compliments.
"Thank you. It was a difficult one for sure." I respond honestly.
Caesar smiles at me and then gets a more serious expression, and I tense up, knowing what he's about to say.
"Since the end of your Games, there's been one thing that's been on everybody's mind. What were you thinking when your opponent's own axe ended up killing her, causing you to win?" Caesar asks, leaning in closer to make sure he hears me.
"I was…shocked, to say the least," is my reply.
I wince; Snow won't accept that. He knows fully well that axe coming back over the cliff was my intent. I rush to add on to my answer.
"It was definitely surprising, but it kept me alive, so I thought hey, why not? The axe killing the District 1 girl was just some pretty good luck. I can't stay I regret it happening. Although I would've won even if it hadn't," I finish arrogantly. Caesar and the audience laugh appreciatively.
The rest of the interview flies by, with me still holding my tongue and being painfully polite, and Caesar asking safe, easy to answer questions. Pretty soon I'm being swept off the stage and surrounded by the excited chatter of my prep team; Orinia, Fuchsia, and Cassius.
"You were just amazing out there!" gushes Orinia, her turquoise-spiked head nodding wildly. "People could barely tell you'd grown up poor and filthy!"
I roll my eyes as Cassius straightens my tie, grinning with his silver, metallic looking lips. "And that grimy District 12 look of yours? All but gone!" he chirps happily.
Suffice to say my prep team isn't big on District 12. I have a snappy retort on the tip of my tongue when I see Griffin-my middle-aged, arrogant, and obnoxious mentor-coming towards us, looking angry. I frown and turn to my prep team.
"Hey, I'll see you guys later, all right?" I say.
"Okay, Haymitch!" Orinia and Cassius squeal, scurrying off. Fuchsia, however, remains, and gives me a once-over, raising her eyebrows at me. I know she senses my distress, and I quickly shake my head. She gives my a look that says, "Are you sure?" before I nod my head and she hurries away.
Griffin reaches me at this point and I turn to face him. "What?" I demand.
"That was terrible, kid," he replies nonchalantly. I pull back as though I've been slapped in the face.
"What?" I demand again, this time a bit confused as well.
Griffin simply looks at me for a moment before saying, "Come on," turning, and striding abruptly in the opposite direction. I hurry to catch up with him and we don't speak one more word to each other as we get in a car, reporters swarming everywhere, drive to the Training Center, and take the elevator all the way up back to District 12's floor.
Griffin plops down onto the couch in the front of the TV, and I follow suit, taking a seat as far away from him as possible. He switches the television on and instantly my interview appears. We're still watching the recap, though it's coming to the end.
"Why-" I begin, but Griffin loudly shushes me before pointing to the screen again. Caesar has just asked his question about the force field, and I'm answering. I still don't see what the big deal is. I appear witty and confident, just like I always do. My answer is smooth and clearly spoken. My appearance is fine too; not a single strand of curly black hair out of place. I can't understand what Griffin is freaking out about.
I turn and see my mentor looking expectantly at me. "What is your deal?" I finally ask angrily. "I did perfectly! All I needed to do was convince Snow, and I did."
He smirks haughtily at me. "No you didn't."
"What are you talking about?" I ask bitterly.
"Look, Haymitch," he sneers my name. "Sure, you may have convinced the rest of Panem that you using the Capitol's force field wasn't a big deal, but you haven't convinced me—or the Gamemakers, for that matter. Trust me; you won't be forgiven for it, ever. Plus," he smirks. "I can easily tell when you're lying. You get this...look in your eye," he stands up and starts to head towards his bedroom. He's almost at the doorway when I shout out after him.
"I'll be fine! And why does it even matter that you can tell I'm lying anyway?"
Griffin slowly turns around, faces me, and with a dead serious voice, says "Because, if I can, President Snow can. And you pretending that your use of the force field was innocent? That was a lie."
Then he turns and slams his door shut, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
