This is what Peeta's thinking when he's in the first interview admitting his love to Katniss. About 90% of the dialogue is directly quoted from the book. This is REALLY long. Like the longest one-shot/chapter I've ever written in my life. So…Enjoy =)
Disclaimer: I only wish that I was Suzanne Collins =(
Portia never fails to surprise me. She is the most amazing designer that has worked for the Hunger Games. I still can't believe the reflection in the mirror is me. I look almost handsome in a striking black suit. There are incandescent flames licking the edges of it. They flicker as the light hits them. It looks like I'm being swallowed by flames. The little make up on my face only accentuates my features.
"Thank you, Portia," I say.
"No problem, dear." She smiles a brilliant smile at me. "You ready for the interview?" she asks. I exhale through my teeth.
"I hope so. Haymitch and I have gone over it about a million times. If I'm not ready now, I don't think I ever will be." I take a deep breath trying to beat down my stage fright.
"Come on," she says. "It's almost show time." She sounds exited. I guess I would be too if I had Capitol optimism. I guess I'd be happy if I didn't ever have to worry about me or anyone else I love dying in the Hunger Games.
We meet the rest of the District 12 team in the hallway. I have to stop myself from staring at Katniss. She looks beautiful. The dress she's wearing looks like it's made of flames. Her hair is braided and hanging over her shoulder. She looks stunningly simple. I pull my eyes away from her and focus on my interview. When the elevator stops we see the other tributes, already lined up on stage. I feel unbelievably overwhelmed. You can be overwhelmed, I tell myself, as long as you don't let it show. I feel Haymitch's fist on my back shoving me lightly.
"Remember, you're still a happy pair. So act like it." Acting. That's all this is. Acting. There's time for one more deep breath, then it's show time. The first thing I notice are the camera's everywhere. They're all focused on us, ready to catch any mistake we might make. My eyes flicker to the host, Caesar Flickerman. He bounces on his toes, a perfect smile on his lips. His hair is powder blue this year. He starts the evening off with a joke and then welcomes the first tribute onto the stage, the girl tribute from District 1.
She's a pretty girl, but her performance was forgettable. I focus on the time, trying to get a feel for how long I have. The three minutes pass faster than I expected. Most of the tributes are forgettable, but there are a few that stand out in my mind. There's the giant from District 2, who comes off as ruthless. There's the girl from District 5 who looks clever. It's often the clever ones who are the problem. Then there's the boy tribute from 11. He's tall and hostile. He looks like he'll definitely be a problem in the arena. Then it's Katniss's turn. This time I focus only on her.
Caesar starts off with his usual questions. How do you like the Capitol? What's your favorite thing about it? He adds flair to her answers with his own comments. He makes her personality shine.
"Now, Katniss," he says. "When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?" I held my breath for her.
"You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?" I laughed along with the audience, letting out the breath I was holding. She was doing exceptionally well. "I thought Cinna was brilliant," she answers, "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. I mean, look at it!" I smile at her. She does look stunning. Then she starts turning. The dress turns truly fiery.
"Oh, do that again!" Caesar says. She lifts her arms and twirls around and around. The audience breaks into wild cheering. She spins and spins and when she stops she clutches onto Caesars arm.
"Don't stop!"he demands, half heartedly.
"I have to, I'm dizzy!" Then she giggled. Katniss Everdeen actually giggled. I feel my eyes widen in disbelief. Caesar helps her back to the chair. They start talking about her amazing training score. My mind is still reeling in disbelief.
"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?" I can see Katniss stiffen. There's sadness swimming behind her brown eyes.
"Her names Prim," she says after a pause. "She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything." The crowd is silent.
"What did she say to you? After the reaping?" Caesar's voice is softer. He's trying to comfort her with his words, while evoking sympathy from possible sponsors.
"She asked me to try really hard to win," Katniss answered.
"And what did you say?" Caesar asks.
"I swore I would." Katniss's eyes emptied of their sadness and rang with fierce determination. She had never looked more powerful in her life.
"I bet you did," Caesar says. The buzzer goes up. "Sorry we're out of time. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve." I take a deep breath. I'm up. Caesar welcomes me to the stage and I get a polite applause.
"So Peeta, tell us about yourself."
"Well, I'm 16 and I'm a baker's son," I say simply.
"A baker's son? Really? Anything interesting you can share about your life there?" I take a second to think of a witty answer.
"Well, Caesar, I can identify the breads from each District by smell."
"Really?" Caesar asks. "That a survival skill you plan on bringing to the arena?" he asks. The audience laughs.
"I think so," I say. Caesar gives me a quizzical look. "Each type of bread has it's own personality," I say matter a factly. Caesar and the audience laugh at this. "And each of these tributes remind me of a type of bread."
"How about this? I give you a tribute and you tell me the type of bread."
"Sounds good," I answer.
"District 2 boy?"
"Whole-wheat. He has the rough quality to him."
"District 11 girl?" I take a glance at her. She's the young girl that Katniss has been hanging out during training.
"Sweet bread," I answer. "She's young and sweet." The crowd "aww's" at that.
"District 3 girl?"
"Flat-bread. Flavorless and no personality," I answer. Low blow, yes, but the audience reacts with laughter.
"You're a funny kid, Peeta Mellark," he says.
"Thank you very much, Caesar Flickerman," I say with a small bow. The crowd laughs at that.
"So, what's your favorite part about the Capitol?" Caesar asks.
"It's all so great. Except for the showers of course," I say.
"Now what could possibly be wrong with the showers?" he asks.
"They're incredibly confusing," I say. "The first time I climb in I just pushed a bunch of random buttons and I ended up in an incredibly cold shower being squirted in every direction by what smelled like liquefied rose." The crowd bursts into laughter. "Tell me, do I still smell like roses?" I ask. He leans in and sniffs me.
"Wow!," he says. The crowd starts laughing. "That's strong! I think it's what I shower in. Now tell me, do I smell like that?" he asked in mock disgust. I lean in and sniff him.
"Wow! That is strong." The crowd is hysterical. I don't fully understand Capitol humor, but I'm beyond glad they're laughing. We play up the smelling thing then relax into the sound of their laughter.
"So, Peeta, you have a special girl at home?" he asks me. My mind flashes to Katniss. I shake my head. It's the truth. That special girl isn't at home.
"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" says Caesar. My mind's moving at a million miles an hour. Earlier, I'd been told to tell the truth. Maybe…maybe telling the truth is the way to go. Maybe…the truth could help us.
I can play the sympathy card. The majority of sponsors are from the Capitol and the Capitol people love a good story. I can give them that story. Katniss and I…we could be…something. We can be the love story that has never before been seen in the history of the Hunger Games. I'm absolutely convinced this would help us in the long run. I sigh.
"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." Sounds of sympathy emanate from the crowd. My heart speeds up. I'm taking a gamble.
"She have another fellow?" Caesar asks. I know I have to play this all perfectly. Any wrong move and I could lose sponsors instead of gain them.
"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," I say.
"So here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" Caesar says, edging me on. I take a deep breath. My heart twists. I wish it were that easy.
"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning…won't help in my case."
"Why ever not?" I feel a blush spread across my face. Don't chicken out. This could be our chance.
"Because…because…she came here with me." I steal a glance at Katniss. Her mouth is half open. She looks surprised. Can't blame her.
"Oh, that is a piece of bad luck."
"It's not good," I agree. I glance at Katniss again and her lips are pressed tightly together. She looks furious. Please, please, please let her forgive me.
"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady." I nod in agreement. "She didn't know?"
"Not until now." The next time I look at her she's blushing.
"Wouldn't you love to pull her back out here and get a response?" The crowd screams with excitement. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours." The crowd roars.
"Thank you," I croak out. I hope to god that this is enough to save her. Suddenly I realize that I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this to save her. Then the buzzer rings. Saved by the bell, I think.
The anthem plays, the stage clears and Katniss and I are ushered into the elevator with a lot of other tributes. I steal a glance at Katniss. Her jaw is set. She has murder in her eyes. I clamp my eyes shut in frustration. The elevator slowly empties. I can feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. Finally, we're dropped off on the 12th floor. I've only taken a few steps out of the elevator when her hands slam into my chest. I fall back and crash into an urn. The urn cracks and shatters. I lift up my hands. There's blood flowing off of them.
"What was that for?" I ask.
"You had no right! No right to go saying those things about me!" She's shouting at me. Her face is twisted in a furious scowl. Behind her, the elevators opens and Effie, Haymitch, Cinna and Portia walk out.
"What's going on?" Effie asks. She sounds crazy. Typical Effie. "Did you fall?"
"After she shoved me," I said under my breath. Apparently it was loud enough for Haymitch to hear.
"Shoved him?"
"This was your idea, wasn't it? Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?" My eyebrows knot together. I start to pull the broken pieces of urn from my hand. I wince.
"It was my idea. Haymitch just helped me with it," I said. Maybe she'll have an easier time realizing this is strategy if I claim Haymitch was involved. Haymitch and I exchange a brief glance. I can see a little shock in his eyes but he catches on quickly.
"Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. To you!" What is she talking about? She looks insane. The dress makes her look like she's on fire. Her arms are waving around furiously.
"You are a fool. Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you could never achieve on your own." Haymitch is furious. Effie and Portia have faded into the background. They look frightened. Cinna is staring at the fight, but he looks more concerned than anything else.
"He made me look weak!" she counters.
"He made you look desirable! And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until he said he wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!"
"But we're not star-crossed lovers!" Haymitch grabs her and pins her against the wall. I take a step forward to help her. Cinna catches my eye. His look is a warning. I stop.
"Who cares? It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived. The most I could say about you after your interview was that you were nice enough, although that in itself was a small miracle. Now I can say you're a heartbreaker. Oh, oh, oh, how the boys back home fall longingly at your feet. Which do you think will get you more sponsors?" Cinna takes a few steps forward and places his hand on her shoulder.
"He's right, Katniss," he said.
"I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid," Katniss countered.
"No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known it wouldn't have read as real," Portia says.
"She's just worried about her boyfriend," I say to myself. Apparently I didn't say it as quietly as I thought. Her cheeks burn red.
"I don't have a boyfriend," she hisses at me.
"Whatever," I say. "But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?" I'm starting to feel bitter. I did this all for her. I'm incredibly thankful that Haymitch, Cinna, and Portia understand why I said what I said. I'm glad they're backing me up. I'm pissed that Katniss is so ungrateful. I see her shoulders relax. Her mind is working and she's seeing the logic in my actions.
"After he said that he loved me, did you think I could be in love with him, too?" she asked. I close my eyes. Pretend you don't care, I tell myself. She can't know that this isn't a bluff.
"I did," Portia chimes in. "The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush." Everyone agrees with her.
"You're golden, sweetheart." Katniss cringes a little at the word, Sweetheart. "You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block." Katniss's cheeks turn crimson.
"I'm sorry I shoved you," she tells me.
"Doesn't matter. Although it's technically illegal," I think remembering the laws about harming a tribute.
"Are your hands okay?" she asks me.
"They'll be all right."
"Come on, let's eat," Haymitch says. Everyone follows Haymitch into the dining room except for me and Portia.
"Let's get you fixed up," she says. She leads me into the prep room. "Do you want me to call a medical team?" she asks. I shake my head. She starts wrapping my hand in bandages. "You and Haymitch didn't really talk about this before, did you." It's not a question. I look up at her in surprise.
"How did you know?"
"I saw the look you and Haymitch exchanged." My blood turns to ice.
"Do you think that Katniss saw it too?" I ask.
"She was too angry, I think." I let out a deep breath. "You did well. Better than anyone could have expected," she says.
"Thank you."
"I'm done. Let's go to dinner." I follow her into the dining room. After a silent and awkward dinner, we watch the games on the television. I don't really want to relive this. I shut my eyes and lean against the back of the couch. I hear Katniss worrying over sounding shallow, but everyone reassures her that she was charming. I remain silent. I stay this way until the anthem announces that the interviews are over.
This is the last time I'll ever see Haymitch and Effie. We're not allowed to see them before the games. Effie kisses us both on the cheeks and thanks us for being such great tributes.
"I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!" I have a hard time not telling her off. That's all we are to her. Stepping stones to her success. Haymitch looks us over with his arms crossed.
"Any final words of advice?" I ask him.
"When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopia. Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water. Got it?" I nod.
"And after that?" Katniss asks.
"Stay alive." This time, we both nod. Katniss leaves to go to bed, but Haymitch holds me back.
"What the hell made you do that?" Haymitch asks.
"I thought it could help." He rubs his forehead like I'm giving him a headache.
"You better hope to hell it does." I nod grimly. He claps me on the back. "Good work, kid." I nod in response. "One more thing. Is it true? Do you really love her?"
"You told me to tell the truth," I answer. He smiles. I can see his lips twitching. Suddenly he can't hold it back anymore. He starts laughing manically. "What?" I demand.
"Good luck with that one, Peeta." He shakes his head, still laughing. With that, he leaves. Bye, Haymitch, I think. I walk bitterly down the hall, not nearly ready enough to be thrust into the arena tomorrow.