Day 7- Interviews

We again get a fairly early night, having discussed the interviews to death and been tired out by doing so. The next day, our fifth at the training centre, is spent preparing, or rather being prepared, for the interviews. I am dressed in a black and green suit, which honestly looks better than it sounds, while Tamla is given a plain yet elegant cream coloured dress, modest, but not overly so.

Before we know it we're waiting for our interviews with Caesar Flickerman, the long-time host of all important interviews on the Capitol television. We sit in a waiting area behind the stage with Woof, Iulia, Rogellus and Marcius and are provided with a TV screen so we can watch the other tributes interviews.

They only last three minutes and seem to fly by. I marvel at how Flickerman changes tone so quickly and effortlessly, from bantering to reassuring, from thoughtful listening to probing questioning.

Jade goes first and is a sponsor-winning combination of tough and determined and very sexy. Silver is chatty, confident and funny, but with a scary edge, while Cleo is determined to bring her family honour. Varro is gruff and tough, not speaking much, but giving off an air of bloodthirstiness.

Coulette surprises me, saying she might be small but she's clever and will be hard to catch, and isn't scared of killing anyone. Alecto is nervy, though Caesar manages to even put him at ease a little, and they chat about how he hopes he can plan his way out of trouble.

Shayla is rather sullen and snarky, 'playing the bad girl' Woof says, while Perrin is a real-crowd pleaser, charming and funny. Kyla is just brutally honest, coming across as very normal, while Barr comes across, I feel awful for thinking, a little bit whiny.

Zianna plays dumb but adorable, I'm sure she's actually more intelligent than she makes out from what I saw of her in training, while Mitro says not much beyond how he's done the important part by saving his brother and will try to kill as many careers as possible, which gets a good cheer but seems doomed to me.

Fern just goes natural, having a really genuine-seeming conversation with Caesar while keeping a defiant confidence about her chances. Grove just grunts 'yes' or 'no' or something equally short to whatever he is asked, and then it's Tamla's turn.

She gets a reasonable round of applause as Caesar announces her to the crowd and acknowledges them before Caesar takes her hand and directs her to her seat.

"So Tamla," he begins, "how are you finding life in the Capitol? I imagine it's quite a change from district 8!"

"It certainly is!" she says, her voice upbeat, "but it's been hard to concentrate on the city too much when we've been so busy with training and styling."

"Of course, of course," he says. "So what do you think of your stylist? Do you like your outfit?"

"Marcius is excellent!" she says, "I love the dress; I think it's really me. It's not too showy."

"But still very pretty," Caesar says flatteringly.

"Thank you," Tamla replies sweetly.

"So if you see yourself as not too showy," he asks, "will that extend into the Games? Do you plan to keep your head down?"

"Well I don't want to give my strategy away," she says with a grin and wink, "but I think you can tell I'm not going to win through brute force."

"So you do believe you can win?" he asks.

"I have to don't I?" she asks, her voice catching a little. Here comes vulnerable, I think with a smile. She's not acting completely, but is exaggerating her emotions just enough. "If I'm not going in there to win then I might as well step off the podium and end it quickly."

The mood of the audience drops and for a second I wonder if she's made a mistake, but she continues, her smile returning, "And I'm hardly going to do that, am I?" and the audience chuckle lightly.

"Of course not!" Caesar says jovially. "Now, can you tell us about your life back home? What are your family like?"

"They're brilliant," she says wistfully, and I don't think she's acting at all now. "My mom and dad have never had much but they've always kept me and my brothers comfortable. We've not gone wanting because my parents work so hard for us."

"That's heartening to hear. And how old are your brothers?"

"Eight and eleven," she says. "I had to look after them quite a lot because of my parents working."

"Well it sounds like you have a wonderful family," says Caesar. "I'm sure they are very proud of you."

"Thank you Caesar," says Tamla.

"Now," says Caesar, his eyes growing serious as he leans forward. "For your individual training you scored a four. Now there were plenty of tributes with similar scores, but it is quite low. Remembering that you aren't supposed to tell us what happened in there, do you think it was a fair score? Do you think it gives an accurate reflection of your potential?"

"I think it probably was fair," she muses, "but I think I could have done better. To be honest," she says with a smile, "I'm not too concerned whether I get a three or a four or a five or a six. I know what I can do and what I can't. If people want to sponsor me they're clever enough to make up their own minds."

"Will you be relying on sponsor gifts?" Caesar asks, "There are some strong contenders out there this year, how do you see yourself beating them?"

"Well the Hunger Games isn't just about fighting," she says. "It's about staying alive in the wilds. And I'm not sure any amount of training can prepare you, seeing how we don't have a clue what the arena will be like."

"Indeed, indeed," he says, "well that is all we have time for I'm afraid, I can only wish you the best of luck. Ladies and Gentlemen, Tamla Pretton, District 8!"

She waves to the crowd and leaves to hearty applause, and I'm up, Iulia sheepherding me in the right direction before leaving me to head up to the stage. I pass Tamla on the way, and she gives me a reassuring smile, and suddenly I'm out and Caesar is calling out my name and the audience are clapping.

"Rory!" he begins. "Welcome, welcome."

"Thank you," I mutter somewhat.

"Now I think there's only place to start here," Caesar commences, "and that's your training score. Eight, matching the district you come from. Now I don't know if you realise this, but that is an amazing score. I am reliably informed that it is the highest score by a tribute from district 8 for twenty-six years."

I don't have to act, surprised, as this genuinely stuns me. I also suddenly feel a surge of pressure; what will my district be expecting of me. "That's…a surprise," I say.

"Especially as district 8 isn't renowned for training with weapons," says Caesar.

"And it's very urban," I continue, "so we aren't often as accustomed to outdoor survival as some of the other districts."

"Indeed," says Caesar. "So can you give us a clue at all as to what gained you that score?"

"Sorry," I say. "I'll just tell you that I've got a surprise or two up my sleeve."

"Intriguing!" says Caesar. "Now, can I ask you, what is your attitude going into the Games? Can you sum it up in one word? Are you hopeful? Confident? Worried?"

"If I had to pick one word…it would be determined," I say.

"To win?"

"To get back home," I clarify, "so yes. Not that it isn't amazing here, but I promised my family I'd come back to them, and I intend to keep that promise."

"I'm sure you do," says Caesar, patting me on the shoulder. "So who is it waiting for you in district 8?"

"My parents and my little sister, Kay," I say quietly. "I decided from the moment I was reaped that I was going to win, because I can't bear to think of her being left alone."

The audience actually 'aww' at this and I give an internal cheer. Without even having to overact I've hopefully gained more popular support.

"You're obviously very close," says Caesar gently, and I nod. "But I'd wager," he continues, "that some of our audience are wondering if you aren't too nice to make it to the end? How would you counter that?"

"I'm not going to kill anyone I don't have to," I say, "but that doesn't mean I'm scared of a fight. If it comes down to kill or be killed…then I'll just think of my family and remember that the most important thing is for me not to die."

"Well I'm sure our viewers will be keeping a close eye on you Rory Jordan," finishes Caesar. "Mysterious skills, determined but good-hearted and kind. You are an enigma!"

"I hope I can help makes the Games great viewing!" I end, even though I have to force it out and feel sick with myself I need to end on a high, sponsor gifts could make all the difference for me.

"I'm sure you will!" says Caesar, before the interview is over and I'm returning to the waiting room.

I catch most of Clarissa's interview and wish I hadn't- it's painful- she spends the whole time in tears and doesn't even seem to grasp quite how willing the careers will be to kill her. Jonathan is too nervous to put across any image, but at least stays brave and tear-free, while Amelia plays up being vulnerable, hoping for sympathy I assume, and Carson is just natural, which unfortunately for him, I don't think will win him many sponsors, as he is quite dull.

Cinnamon talks up her chances, brave and confident while still sweet and pleasant, while Jeremiah is, surprisingly, highly talkative, having a serious conversation with Caesar that I think must verge on being censored as he discusses the morality of the games. Daisy from twelve is terrified, but angry rather than resigned with it and Syme ends the interviews in uninspiring fashion with an un-noteworthy chat, which he doesn't seem to really commit to.