"Thank you for choosing me. May I just say that I simply adore your hair this year, Caesar!" The turquoise-tinted woman gushes. Caesar runs his hand over the top of his slicked back fuschia locks.
"Thank you so much, darling!" Caesar is completely at ease with this kind of audience and interview format, but I'm still trying to get used to it. It's so much more terrifying when you know that people are noting down your every word, ready to be made into tomorrow's news stories. Caesar has been really helpful, scraping answers out of me when I've been too scared to respond and even unknowingly checking that my story all fits together. "Now, your question is..?" He smiles warmly.
"Oh, yes," the blue lady replies. "Katniss, how do you feel about the extended timeline of the Quarter Quell?" Several reporters perk up; it would seem they are all longing for the answer to this question, even though I have no idea what it's about.
"Extended timeline?" I query.
"Have you not heard?" Caesar looks at me with an expression of horror on his face. "Did you not watch the extra broadcast last night?" I smile grimly.
"Not exactly," I say, laughing nervously. "I was... preoccupied, with pregnancy issues." The crowd's split reaction would be funny were I not on a podium in front of them- the men all recoil and squirm where the women gaze on with either longing or sympathy. If only they knew the truth! I have to stifle a laugh.
"Oh, my dear girl!" Caesar exclaims. "I am so sorry to be the one to break this to you, but the Gamemaking team have made the decision that, to add to the Quarter Quell arena's abnormality, the Games will be prolonged for the duration of seven months!" There are a few scattered cheers from the press, quickly muted when my mouth drops open.
"But- but Peeta-" It is all I can do to stammer like a moron.
"I know, it's a very unfortunate circumstance, but what can one do? You'll just have to cope as best you can without him." I do a fast sum in my head, using the facts Cinna and I decided upon, and realise something terrible.
"Caesar, it's not just the separation," I say, real anxiety filling my voice. "It's the fact that I'm already three months pregnant." There is a gasp from everyone in the studio. "That means that, all going to plan, mine and Peeta's child will be born while he is still in the arena." Everyone begins to react as the news truly sets in. Uneasy looks turn into full-blown panic, whispers rise to worried conversations, and I even see two women holding each other in floods of tears. It's not the first-time-father side of things that has me terrified- I know that there's not really a baby- but instead the realisation that Peeta will not be with me to support me through this all. He will not be available to help with any other methods of conception that my mother may concoct. I may actually conceive a child and then have no contact with its father for over half a year. And, most worryingly, he will be completely under Snow's control for all that time. I bite my lip at the painful thought and turn to Caesar. I see not the calm face I was expecting, but a man who cannot look me in the eye. He addresses the camera instead.
"We'll be right back with you, after this short break. Stay tuned for more from our Girl On Fire, Katniss Everdeen!" As soon as we are off the air he plonks himself down in a plush armchair offstage and is handed a bottle of weird-looking liquid, which he gulps down. He clicks his fingers and three girls rush over to him, fanning him rapidly until his flustered look finally fades and he is ready to make his next presentation. The moment he returns to the microphone, the cameras start to roll once more.
"Hello Panem! Caesar Flickerman here again with all the latest on District 12's greatest, Katniss Everdeen!" The audience applauds and cheers. "Now, Miss Everdeen- about your secret nuptials! Could we possibly get a glimpse of your ring?" The wedding themed questions continue for what seems like hours. After questions about everything from the traditions to the dress, the topic finally returns to the one I am prepared for, thanks to a man with a quiff that mimics a leaping horse:
"I was wondering- are you showing yet?" I am suddenly very glad that I put my bump on, even though it is uncomfortable. I smile as I reply, "Yes, a little. Would you like to see?" The crowd roars in delight so I stand up and stretch my dress taught over my stomach, fully flaunting the hopefully-well-placed bump. I can barely hear myself think over the sounds of the cameras and my eyes go funny from the flashing lights in every direction. By the time Caesar quietly taps me, telling me to sit back down, it is all I can do to keep smiling as I gratefully back off and attempt to regain my sense of sight.
"Yes, you with the purple headband?" Caesar points towards a woman and she beams at me.
"Do you have any ideas for baby names yet?" She is practically bouncing. This question has thrown me a little, I'll admit; I didn't think I'd be asked about baby names so early on.
"No, not yet," I reply with a smile, and nod for the next question. Caesar chooses a man with a massive bowtie next: "Is there a possibility of the baby being named after any of Everdeen's Fallen?"
I glance at Caesar, having no idea what he means, and he whispers, "He means, will the baby be named after anyone who died in the Games?"
Oh. I flinch internally at the term. 'Everdeen's Fallen'. Well, it suits the purpose, I suppose. They all died because of me in some way.
My gaze turns down and I don't look up from my lap as I answer, "Those people were part of my past, and this child is my future." I trace my hand across my stomach as if caressing the baby, and I hear cameras clicking away. "Unfortunately, nothing can bring them back, and there are some... unpleasant memories that are tied to them and that- that time in my life. So no. Definitely not." My brain becomes clouded with thoughts of Cato's screams for mercy, the sound of Marvel's body hitting the ground with a sickening squelch as he landed in his own blood that had pooled from the wound in his neck- a wound that I had caused. A shudder racks my body and the bowtied reporter pipes up again.
"Oh, that's too bad. No baby Rue then?" I remember Rue, with her sweet smile and love of music; the little snuggle she did as she buried her small head into my chest in an attempt at sleep; her heartwarming, hopeful expression as I offered her my groosling leg; her swinging from tree to tree, so weightless and angelic that I actually thought she might fly. My throat is thick with tears now.
"Perhaps... Perhaps a middle name would be ok." The reporters go wild. I can barely see and am trying futilely to blink my eyes clear; at the same time, Caesar is trying (just as futilely) to rein the crowds in. Eventually he gives up and announces me once more before escorting me from the stage to where Peeta is waiting for me in the wings- surprisingly, alone for once. He wraps his arm around my waist a little too tightly- he's obviously angry- and leads me away from the chaos in the studio and back to our top-floor lodgings, remaining deadly quiet the whole time. He never once lets go of me. We sit on the sofa together, awaiting Effie and Haymitch's return- goodness knows where they are.
"Katniss," he says after about ten minutes, finally breaking the silence. "We need to talk."
"What about? I thought everything was pretty obvious," I reply, leaning away from him slightly to gauge his reaction.
"It is. There's just one thing that's obvious to me that isn't to anyone else." He takes a deep breath. "I'm not going into the arena."