I've forgotten about the disclaimer till now, so I do not own the hunger games, or Clove or Cato or Marvel or Glimmer or Brutus or Enobaria etc., but I do own Tabby and Cress and a few others.
Chapter 5
On the morning on the interviews, I'm filled with more dread than what I have for the beginning of the games. Which isn't much, but will be for the other tributes. The dread they will be feeling for the day we enter the arena will be huge, and it will also be similar in size to what I'm feeling for today. Because today I'm going to have another encounter with my prep team and, god forbid, Cress, in preparation for my interview later.
After I've been beautified/tortured by Iris, Jasper and Godetia, I wait for him in the same room I did last time, tapping my hand on the wall in impatience. When he arrives, I almost choke at his newest hairstyle. His now egg-yolk yellow locks have been crimped, extended and plaited, finishing wrapped around his forehead. The eyebrows are still curly but acid green, and he's accessorized with golden earrings the size of dinner plates. Its certainly a unique look, but not one I hope that my new one will be inspired by.
He gives me a dress to wear (I hate dresses), a silky thing covered in silver netting, and it's a struggle to even touch it without retching. Then I am given some stupid silver headdress, and I wait, apprehensive, for the surely awful shoes I'll have to actually place on my feet. However, Cress seems to think it would be best if I went BAREFOOT to make me seem more of a fighter. And a pretty dress REALLY inspires that I'm just that. I'm blaming him if I get a splinter.
When I'm waiting next to the stage with the other tributes while Glimmer does her interview, it's almost all I can can do to not break the neck of everyone standing around me I feel so stupid. Glimmer is dressed in a transparent golden dress that she seems to really like. Originally she was going for the gorgeous approach, but it's sort of turned to a sweet little girl act. Still, the Capitol audience seem to like her.
My eyes wander to the district 4 tributes. They're a part of the careers, but whenever they sit with us they always look a bit uncomfortable and don't talk much. The girl, Tabby, is only thirteen and very small, unusually for a career. I've grown quite fond of her (though on reflection I suppose I could kill her if necessary) and we all tease her give her the mocking nickname Tabby cat. She doesn't seem to mind - I think her Mother used to call her that back in District 4 or something - and the person she spends the most time with is Glimmer. They have the same flowing golden hair.
The 17 year old boy, Graham, has the brains and looks of a hamster. He's of the same build of Cato, so even though he's decidedly unskilled he can generally beat people in hand to hand combat. Even then he uses brutality and not wit to win. I think Marvel was able to beat him in training, which just goes to show.
The buzzer sounds for Glimmer and Marvel makes his way to the stage. Like his District partner, his angle sort of changes throughout the interview. He starts with arrogantly confident, but begins leaning towards 'funny guy' later on. The District 1 mentors, Cashmere and Gloss, don't seem too bothered, as Marvel was a hit anyway.
I vaguely notice Cato walking past me to the stage. I have to admit he does well, becoming a bloodthirsty killing machine, being very open about his tactics with just a hint of mystery. He's easily the favourite so far. In fact, when his buzzer goes, the audience let out a groan of disappointment. The interviewer, Ceasar Flickerman, laughs and states that rules are rules. Then, it's me.
I'm not nervous, just longing to get it over with so I don't have to spend another second looking at the ghastly faces of the Capitol people. After the chariot rides, flaming suits, dresses, handbags, hats and all the rest seem to have become the new fashion. It makes me angry, but I don't let it show on my face. I'm not giving twelve that satisfaction.
I answer with arrogant sarcasm and wit, explaining how ruthless I am, how nothing will prevent me from winning these games. Ceasar congratulates me on my score. The cheers of the Capitol are dizzying and ear-splitting, so I know I've done well. In fact, I've earned myself an dirty look from Glimmer. Her beauty and charm has been forgotten now I've upstaged her. After my final answer (Don't forget me. I won't be beaten, and soon I'll be standing in front of you as your victor, Capitol.") I'm certain that no-one can hold a candle to my success.
I don't pay much attention to the other interviews. Tabby is very sweet, stating how careers aren't usually the underdogs, but this time she is the underdog, and in almost every storybook there is, the underdog always pulls through, and that what she will do etc. Thresh plays it strong and silent, Rue, the twelve year old, says she is hard to catch, and therefore kill. Finally, it's time for Katniss Everdeen. She's so girlishly charming I want to puke. When she spins in her swirling flame dress, I almost do. Though she's infuriating, however, the twelve boy, Peeta Mellark I think he's called, is ten times more so. He is a joker, and him and Ceasar make a great pair, admittedly. Inevitably, though, Ceasar asks him the ever-dreaded romance question that he's held back until now. Mellark blushes (Really?) and then, acting all embarassed, admits he's totally in love with Everdeen. Of course he is, the little liar. She goes bright red and the Capitol audience absolutely hang on every word Mellark says, completely buying the so-called confession of love. I realize what total twits they all are. Twelve's tributes would fit right in with them. Only their not going to get the chance, because I am even more determined for them to die at my hands than before. Not Cato's, nor anybody elses. Mine.
When head back to my room on floor two, I remember the actual games start tomorrow. Tommorow I enter the arena. It's exciting, and, though it never was before, a little scary. No-where near scary enough to make me weep, however.
Because I'm a career. And careers don't cry.