I wake up with a stone in my stomach. Dredd didn't even come to wake me up. I expect he doesn't want to talk to me, even though we're supposed to practice for my interview. I already know what I want to say, plus he'd probably spend most of the time with Kristen anyways.
Still angry about my training score, I pass most of the day in my room before going to meet with my stylist again.
There are people in the Capitol who tell stories on TV, there are people that cook things on TV, there are people who get filmed shopping on TV. Then there's James Catroll. James Catroll is the Hunger Games guy. Not only does he interview the Tributes, he narrates the Games, making comments on everything that happens. In the off-season, he is present for interviews about how the next arena is coming, interviews with past victors, and more interviews with Gamemakers.
If you could ever pick someone to interview you, it would be him. I've seen him pull an interview with a sobbing four year old out of the gutter. I'm pretty sure if aliens came to Earth, we could give them James Catroll and they would leave happy. Forget introverts and extroverts, he has his own personality type.
What I admire about him so much is that he's probably one of the few people in Panem who knows more about the Games than I do.
Standing by the elevator, I find myself again waiting for a girl to get ready. I'm wearing a suit that might as well be the same one I wore for the chariot rides. Kristen is apparently getting into an ensemble that's even grander than her chariot outfit and I'm the one who has to suffer through waiting.
I'm about to gnaw my own hand off in boredom when she finally emerges. The outfit isn't even that great, it's just a dress. I honestly can't figure out what took that long to get ready, but I guess that's the male in me talking.
Before the interviews begin, I'll need to talk to my alliance about who we're going to target at the Cornucopia.
A few more moments of my life are spent in silence during another awkward elevator ride. It gets even more awkward as we pick up more and more tributes on the way down and eventually every time the doors open we have to go through the whole "can-I-fit-oh-sorry-I-guess-I-can't" "no-wait-I'll-move-oh-sorry-didn't-mean-to-elbow-y ou" "no-really-it's-okay-I'll-just-catch-the-other-one -wait-there-is-no-other-one-better-make-room," routine. Normally it wouldn't be that bad, except some people's costumes are really extravagant and are impossible to fit easily into the cramped space. The girl from Seven's sticks must have swatted me in the face at least four times.
Eventually I end up pressed chest-to-chest with Preston. It doesn't help that he's significantly taller than I am, so I end up staring at his chin and can't even make conversation.
To my dismay though, somewhere deep inside that pretty little head of his, he finds the will speak. "Uh, how's it going?"
"Fine, fine, good."
Ayler laughs at us from across the elevator.
"Didn't even know you were in here, Ayler," I shout.
"Probably my fault," Says William, who I had previously thought was Jarratt. "I've kinda got him pinned in the corner here."
To everyone's relief, the elevator doors open. We all pile out quickly, visibly trying to forget that that just happened. The doors shut quickly. A switchboard next to the solitary elevator indicates that floors 12, 11, 9, and 5 have all requested it the next time it comes up. Looks like it's going to be another packed ride down for those kids.
Ah the little quirks of the Hunger Games that the audience doesn't get to see.
Trawl, Jason, and Dai Lao who had all watched us get out are now surpressing laughter. Dai Lao's face is in particular is almost purple. It was funny, but it wasn't that funny.
"Good afternoon gentlemen," Ayler greets them. Everyone exchanges nods.
"I thought we should go over the plan for when we first get into the Arena," I say. "I think the best idea is to go after the group with that girl from Five, uh, Tsoma. They're the only other group so I think we'd be smart to get them out of the way. So when we get in there, everyone has to go towards the Cornucopia and grab the first weapon they see. We'll take control of all of the supplies and take them with us when we leave."
Jason speaks up. "So we're all going to go after three tiny kids?"
"No, no, of course not. If you get the chance to go after someone else, do it. We just don't want any of them to get away."
Everyone agrees to the idea, some of them look a little off-put by it, but no one protests. Trawl seems eager to agree with me, I can't help but think that it's an act.
A stage person comes to line us up for the interviews and I start feeling anxious. Not only having I been waiting for this moment for years, I've been planning it too. As long as James goes along with what I'm trying to do, it should go well enough to abolish my less-than-ideal training score.
In no time we're being ushered on stage to our semi-circle of chairs behind James'. For the next portion of the evening, I will be a background feature of one of the biggest broadcasts of the year. Every television in all of Panem will be turned on and I will be 'that guy from Six' peeking out behind James' stylized cowlick.
The only advice I took from Dredd was to not listen to the interviews before mine. Now is the time to focus on myself, I will be winning the Games, not my alliance. As tempting as it is to lose myself in what my allies say, it will only make me more nervous for my interview.
With that, I turn my attention to the audience, focusing particularly on a freaky woman in the front row with a fake third eye. At least I hope it's fake.
Before I know it, its Kristen's turn and I will be going next. Three minutes go by.
Here we go.
I stand up when James introduces me, shaky at the knees. Is the audience cheering? I could hear them cheering for everyone else, why aren't they cheering for me?
After a few seconds, my hearing clicks back in and it turns out at yes, in fact, the audience was cheering quite loudly. James welcomes me to a set of plush chairs; I shake his hand and sit down, smiling wider than I ever have before.
James speaks first. "Everett, we're very glad to have you here."
"Thanks James, I'm excited to meet you. I'm a huge fan of the Games."
"So I've heard! And how about that alliance of yours, I think we're all very excited to see you guys working together," he nods to me, smiling. The audience cheers in response as if this is old news to them.
Uh, how do they know about that? I'm starting to regret not listening to everyone else's interview. A subtle glance to the other tributes, who told them about the alliance?
Wait, why am I angry? There's not really a problem with them knowing… I guess…
It must be the nerves, it's got to be the nerves. I've always gotten irritable when my plans change.
The audience stops cheering, I should answer James' question. Wait, he didn't even ask a question. Ha! This is the fabulous James Catroll I've been waiting my whole life to meet?
Breathe.
"James, do you remember Vatlian Moore from the first Hunger Games?" I ask him.
He scoffs towards the audience. "Of course I do, he almost won!"
"He could have won."
The audience goes completely silent. Someone coughs, a chair squeaks. James gives me a look asking where I'm going with this.
I continue. "The reason he didn't was because he took the wrong weapon when they split up."
"Go on."
"He took the bow and arrows, leaving his ally with the sword."
"Yes," James leans in, intrigued. "But his ally was fantastic with the bow and arrows; surely if he had given it to him he would have shot him instantly."
The audience murmurs at this, taking in James' ideas.
"But James," I say, pausing before I continue. "What's a bow and arrow against a sword?"
He ponders for a minute before gasping in realization. The audience follows his lead, cheering and clapping once they make sense of my reasoning.
It's brief and very hard to catch, but I can just make it out as James winks at me. This finally makes sense; someone who knows the Games as well as James surely would have figured this out too. This is the James Catroll I have admired, acting dumb to play up my strategy.
We go on back and forth for the rest of the time pointing out the downfalls of some of the most famous players. Lydia should have killed her ally, Matron stopped running too early, if Salem had climbed a tree instead of fighting back, he would have both lived and spotted where the final opponent was.
The audience is quiet through most of this, hopefully with awe. When there's five seconds left, James thanks me for my insight and I go to sit down. My pulse has slowed down significantly, but it's still only when the audience has stopped cheering that I realize they were cheering at all.
Now I can relax. My interview is over and there's nothing more I can do until the Games themselves. I learned my lesson from before; not listening to the other interviews was just plain stupid. I need to know if anyone says anything that regards me. Way to go, Dredd.
However, it seems that the rest of the interviews are pretty lackluster. Three different girls vow to be the first girl to win the Games, but Marie Lynn is the only one who can make it seem somewhat believable. She acts very mysterious throughout her whole interview and is it ever believable. She jokes around that she has more than just one trick up her sleeve. When James asks her how many she counts on her fingers, eventually coming up with a total of seven.
"And how many of those are weapons?" James asks, amazed.
She smiles slyly. "More than you'd expect."
There is no measure to the amount that I hope that I still hold one of those coveted places up that sleeve of hers. I pray that my mediocre score wasn't low enough for her to abandon our alliance. My strategy for the interview wasn't just to impress the Capitol, I wanted to patch up any holes I'd made with her as well.
The tributes sitting around me look nervous. I already knew Marie Lynn was good with weapons, but the Capitol didn't. Actually, if it wasn't for her training score, she'd just be another obvious casualty. She could probably gut all of us with a sword, spear, bow, axe, knife, or just plain take us down fighting one-on-one. Well, all of us except maybe Trawl. All together that makes six of her secret tricks, seven if you include me.
The rest of the tributes pretty much just talk about training and their home lives. I get bored after listening to them, so I can only imagine what the rest of Panem is thinking.
When the broadcast concludes, we're sent back up in the elevators to our floors. The first thing I see is a little disheartening; Dredd's waiting for me on the couch.
"Everett, come over here and talk to me," he waves me over.
"Why would I want to talk to you?"
His eyebrows mesh together in confusion. "Because I'm your mentor?"
I let out a sigh of anger. "You told me not to listen to the other interviews and because of that I had no idea James knew about my alliance. It made me look like an idiot. Plus, I don't even have any idea who told him!"
"You can't be serious," he groans, honestly looking confused at me. "Everett, no one told him about your interview, the Capitol already knows. I told you not to listen to the interviews to calm you down. It worked; your interview went fine, really well actually."
I only really catch the first part of what he says. "Wait, how did the Capitol already know?"
"Are you kidding? I do talk to the other mentors you know, I've been working with them since we got here and you started your alliance. I've been promoting you guys all week to the press."
I'm shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
He scoffs again. "Why didn't I tell you? Everett, you're the one who shoots me down every time I want to talk, you're the one who locks yourself in your room all day. I can only help you if you want me to."
"You only ever help Kristen!"
"Did you just miss everything I just said? I can only help someone who wants to try to work with me. I've been trying to do the best I can without any assistance at all from you, but you know what, that's really freaking hard, Everett!"
"Oh so I guess you're just going to help Kristen now!"
His head drops into his hands. "Are you actually this dense? It's my job to help you. I want to help you. Do you think I want to see either of you die? I don't have to be here, I signed up to do this and last time I checked so did you. So the least you could do is act like it!"
I turn around, furious. He shouldn't be yelling at me, he's the one that made it seem like he didn't want to help me at all.
"Are you going to say anything?" He asks.
I stay exactly where I am, too angry to move at all or answer his question.
He grunts. "Fine, just go to bed then, try to sleep if you can. Kristen, I'll talk to you now."
As I'm stomping away I can hear him apologizing to Kristen for our fight. I'm still so riled up that I don't even know what I think about it. If there's one thing Dredd got right it's that sleeping was going to be hard. Before I even know what's happened, its morning and I've barely slept at all.
Alright, that's the last one before the Games!
Many thanks, watch for the eagle!