Hey Guys! Currently, A Stylist's Games is on hiatus, because I'm starting Mockingjay, Peeta's POV. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
Scare me
"Hello, Peeta. It's time for an interview," Portia says. When she opens the door, I shield my eyes from the artificial light streaming into my cell.
"Why?" I ask.
"Snow says so," she replies, a hint of anger in her voice.
"No," I say.
"Yes. You have to, Peeta. If you haven't noticed, you're their prisoner, their property. They can make you do whatever they want," Portia says, disgusted.
"So nothing has changed. I'm still a piece in their Games," I say.
She nods. She takes my hand, and takes me from the cell. I say nothing, just let her guide me along. I've decided to cooperate with her, and the rest of the Capitol.
"Here we are!" Portia says, too enthusiastically to be genuine.
She leads me to a large room filled with clothing racks. One side of the room has a huge table with an abundance of sewing machines and fabric.
"C'mon, let's get you fitted for the interview, shall we?" Portia tells me to sit in one of the large chairs, and I do.
Moments later, my prep team enters. Sensa, Jaysa, and Lanius.
"Peeta! So good to see you…" Sensa trails off.
I nod. "Have they- done anything to you?" Jaysa asks.
"No," I reply. They all seem to sigh with relief. "But why would you care?"
"Peeta, we are here to help you. We love you," Jaysa says, and Lanius and Sensa nods encouragingly.
"Okay," I say.
"Come here, Peeta," Portia motions to me.
She shows me a white suit, paired with white shoes, socks, and a jacket.
"White," I say.
"Yes, Snow's request," she says vehemently.
"Sensa, Jaysa, Lanius, we need the full body polish," Portia says to my prep team.
After the full body polish, Portia gives me the suit and shows me a dressing room.
"Perfect," Portia gestures for me to follow her out of the room, and I do.
"This is Sara. She will take you to the stage and back to your… quarters," Portia says.
Sara takes my arm and tugs me away. She grabs my hands and puts a pair of thick, metal handcuffs on. I look at her, and she looks away quickly.
She leads me to a stage, never letting go of my arm. Her grip tightens when we arrive at the stage.
Like I'm going to try to escape. Where would I go? I'm in the middle of the Capitol, I'm not going to be able to get to District 1, let alone District 12.
District 12. Someone said that 12 was bombed, that no one survived. My family, Sams, Mrs. Everdeen, Prim. Everyone.
"Hello, Peeta. Are you ready?" Caesar Flickerman says.
"I guess," I reply.
He looks toward the camera like I didn't say anything. One of the people in the room, the director I assume, counts backwards.
"We're live," he calls.
"Good evening, everyone. Whether you're from the Capitol or the districts, you will want to see this. Here we have, Mr. Peeta Mellark!"
I can almost see the color drain from Katniss's face.
"So… Peeta… welcome back," Caesar says.
I smile slightly. "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar," I reply.
"I must confess I did," Caesar says, "The night before the Quarter Quell… well, who ever thought we'd see you again?"
"It wasn't part of my plan, that's for sure," I say.
Caesar leans toward me a little. "I think it was clear what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your child could survive."
Damn it, I forgot about that. That plan that me and Haymitch came up with, to stop the Quell.
Haymitch. That son of a Bitch.
Suddenly, Caesar draws me from my thoughts.
"Peeta?" He whispers, pointing to the camera.
"That was it, clear and simple," I start getting nervous, tracing my fingers along the patterns on the chair. "But other people had plans as well," I hope he knows what I'm talking about. The rebel's plan to rescue Katniss from the Quell. I have to assume that the Capitol got to me first, but I'm just guessing.
It is silent for a long time, making me more nervous than before. It suddenly comes to me that Marcus told me to mention a cease-fire or else the world isn't going to be a pretty place for me or Katniss.
"Why don't you tell us about that last night in the arena?" Caesar asks. "Help us sort a few things out."
I nod, but take time to figure out what to say. What should I say? How can I be sure I can do this without saying something incriminating?
"That last night… to tell you about that last night… well, first of all, you have to imagine how it felt in the arena. It was like being an insect trapped under a bowl filled with steaming air. And all around you, that jungle… green and alive and ticking. That giant clock, ticking away your life. Every hour promising a new horror. You have to imagine that in the past two days, sixteen people have died- some of them defending you. At the rate things are going, the final eight will dead by the following morning. Save one. The victor. And your plan is that it won't be you."
I stop, looking at the small amount of people gathered in the room. They all are glued to my lips, including Caesar. I continue, thinking about the cease-fire.
"Once you're in the arena, the rest of the world becomes very distant. All the people and the things you loved or cared about almost cease to exist," I use this word, almost implying the cease-fire. "The pink sky and the monsters in the jungle and the tributes who want your blood become your final reality, the only one that ever mattered. As bad as it makes you feel, you're gonna have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it's very costly."
"It costs your life," Caesar says.
"Oh, no. It's costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people? It costs everything you are."
"Everything you are," Caesar repeats slowly, mulling over the words in his mind.
No one seems to moving. Everyone seems to have died in the room around me. I'm getting anxious. Very, very anxious.
I decide to continue. "So you hold onto your wish. And that last night, yes, my wish was to save Katniss. But even without knowing about the rebels, it didn't feel right. Everything was too complicated. I found myself regretting I hadn't run off with her earlier in the day, as she had suggested. But there was no getting out at that point."
"You were too caught up in Beetee's plan to electrify the salt lake," Caesar says.
Suddenly, I get angry. "Too busy playing allies with the others! I should have never let them separate us!" I burst out.
"That's when I lost her," I say, more calmly.
"When you stayed at the lightning tree, while she and Johanna Mason took the wire coil down to the water," Caesar clarifies.
"I didn't want to!" I shout. "But I couldn't argue with Beetee without giving indicating we were about to break away from the alliance. When that wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Trying to find her. Watching Brutus kill Chaff. Killing Brutus myself. I know she was calling my name. Then the lightning bolt hit the tree, and the force field around the arena… blew out.
"Katniss blew it out, Peeta," Caesar says. "You've seen the footage."
Yes, I have. But it doesn't mean anything, Caesar.
"She didn't know what she was doing. None of us could follow Beetee's plan. You can see her trying to figure out what to do with that wire," I snap.
"All right. It just looks suspicious," Caesar says. "As if she was part of the plan all along."
I stand up, and lean in toward Caesar's face, locking my hands on the arms of his chair. "Really? And was it part of her plan to Johanna to nearly kill her? For the electric shock to paralyze her? To trigger the bombing? She didn't know, Caesar! Neither of us knew anything except that we were trying to keep each other alive!"
Caesar places his hand on my chest, and presses me back into my chair. "Okay, Peeta, I believe you," he says.
Thank God. That was hard. But I'm still not sure he convinced. Oh well, not my problem.
"Okay," I say, and start running my fingers through my once-perfectly-groomed hair.
Caesar stops, as if he is studying me.
"What about your mentor, Haymitch Abernathy?"
My face hardens. I don't want to talk about him, I'm still not sure what I think about him.
"I don't know what he knew."
"Could he have been part of conspiracy?" Caesar presses.
"He never mentioned it," I say.
"What does your heart tell you?"
"That I shouldn't have trusted him," I say. "That's all."
Caesar pats my shoulder apologetically. "We can stop now if you want," he says.
"Was there more to discuss?" I ask, although I already know the answer. Yes, there is. Marcus said so. I need to speak about the cease-fire.
"I was going to ask your thoughts on the war, but if you're too upset…" Caesar begins.
"Oh, I'm not too upset to answer that," I say, inhaling deeply. I look directly at the camera, imaging it's Katniss, that I'm doing this for her. All for her.
"I want everyone that's watching- whether you're on the Capitol or the rebel side- to stop for just a moment and think about what a war could mean. For human beings. We almost went extinct fighting one and other before. Now our numbers are even fewer. Our conditions more tenuous. Is this really what want to do? Kill ourselves off completely? In the hopes that- what? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the Earth?" I'm shouting, more agitated than before.
"I don't really… I'm not sure I'm following…" Caesar stammers.
"We can't fight each other, Caesar," I explain. "There won't be enough of us left to keep going. If everybody doesn't lay down their weapons- and I mean very soon- it's all over, anyway."
"So… you're calling for a cease-fire?" Caesar asks.
"Yes, I'm calling for a cease-fire," I say. I'm getting tired of doing this. All I've said is the same things over and over and over again.
"Now why don't we ask the guards to take me back to my quarters so I can build another hundred care houses?" I ask, wishing I could go back and sleep, even if I have to sleep on the floor.
Caesar turns to the camera. "All right, I think that about wraps this up. So back to our regularly scheduled programing's," he smiles.
Music plays, and Sara comes back onto the stage and takes me off. But I'm not greeted by a happy sight. When we enter the backstage area, Marcus is waiting for me.
"Good enough," he says, when his fist lands on my face.