9 For a long moment, the cameras are holding on Peeta's downcast eyes as his red cheeks turn a lighter shade; everyone lets the news sink it. Then, my face is on the screen. My expression, a mixture of shock and- -annoyingly- -a bit flattered. My cheeks turn scarlet and I tilt my head down. Peeta likes me? I think, as Caesar continues on with an extreme edge of bad luck in his tone.
"Oh, dear. That's a real piece of bad luck." Caesar says, the road murmurs with agreement and I can hear a few cries of agony shoot out along the crowd.
"It's not good," agrees Peeta.
"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady," Caesar says, "She didn't know?"
Peeta sadly shakes his head, "Not until now."
My eyes flicker up to the screen. I'm still blushing, but is it possible that my cheeks got even redder?
"Well, I wish we could get her back here and a get a response- -" Caesar is cut off by the audience's cheering, "- -but, unfortunately, rules are rules and her time has been spent. Best of luck, Peeta Mellark, and I can honestly say I know that all of our hearts are with you."
The roar of the crowd is unbelievable, Peeta's made his mark and wiped out the rest of ours with his declaration of love. For me. His declaration of love for me. When the audience settles, he chokes out a "thank you" and returns to his seat. We stand for the anthem and I'm forced to raise my still lightly blushing face for all of the cameras to see. The camera is now aimed straight at a shot of Peeta and I, and we look like we've chosen to sit so close to each other when in reality the spaces between the chairs have been tightly packed together. As soon as the anthem is over and Peeta and I can escape to the back, I pull his hand away behind a curtain. I know the camera filmed me pull his hand, but I don't care. They're only allowed so far unless asked. So, after I've pulled Peeta aside, away from the camera's prying film, I push my arm against his chest; locking him in place.
"What was that! Why did you do that?" I yell.
"What are you talking about?" Peeta asks, genuinely confused.
"Why did you say you loved me?" I ask.
"It was supposed to be a compliment." He snaps back.
"Oh, if you were really in love wouldn't you try to see me more rather than ask to be coached separately!" I counter, annoyed. Peeta gives me an even more confused look then before and I roll my eyes. "What are you playing at?"
Suddenly, Haymitch, Effie, Cinna, and Portia are running towards us on sight from the elevators.
"What's going on?" Effie asks.
"He's plotting something, and I refuse to have that done to me by him until at least the Games! I hadn't planned anything, so why should he?" I spit, acidly.
Haymitch says, "He's helping you, here!"
"How?" snap back.
"He just gave you something you could never achieve on your own!" Haymitch states angrily.
"So, what's that?" I ask, impatiently. Cinna is right, I do get easily angered around Haymitch.
"He made you look desirable. As soon as he said he wanted you, you've become the sole thing people are talking about. You've go to act like star-crossed lovers if you want to get any sponsors, got it?" He snaps, "It's all about the show, it's all about how you're perceived. So, you are going to act this part, and act it well."
My eyes widen, that must've been Haymitch's plan the entire time. Star-crossed lovers. I needed to look genuinely shocked and that's why they hadn't told me until now.
"It doesn't matter, anyhow." Peeta says, and I see Haymitch offer a cameraman the once-in-a-lifetime chance to film this. Which means I know what Haymitch expects me to do, act the part, "you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?"
I'm not surprised by Peeta's fine acting skills. He's lied for me, covered for me, tons of times. I hope I can be just as good, but I feel odd acting like this. Oh, well… if it means survival. The cameraman is in place, time to act.
I run up to Peeta and hug him around his middle, I can see- -from a screen behind him- -the look of shock that's on his face. I stand on my tip toes, just a little bit because though Peeta is taller than me the heels make up for part of it, and kiss him on the forehead, the nose- -again- -and the cheek. I can hear the audience cheer and hoot and aww as the scene goes live. This still feels wrong somehow.
Peeta eventually begins to come out of his initial shock and hugs back with a smile. Wow is he a good actor. I pull away from Peeta and smile, as brightly as I can to try and hide the awkward feeling festering inside me, and we begin to walk away. Cinna, Portia, Haymitch, and Effie pretending to block us from the view of the camera, as if Haymtich hadn't beckoned him over, and I curl my pink around Peeta's. I can nearly feel the heat of the camera on my fingers.
Peeta is positively beaming. I like when he looks happy, but it feels fake. I try to mimic his expression. At least I know everyone is in on it, but then, as we walk towards the elevator, I lean towards Cinna and whisper, "was my expression right? For the whole 'star-crossed lovers thing?"
"Yes." Cinna says, "With the blush it was perfect."
We enter the elevators and the escalation upwards seems to take forever as I replay tonight's events in my mind. We reach District 12's floor and we can smell our dinner down the hall. Peeta sits next to me and the food comes in, warm and delicious as always. I realize then that this whole 'always together' thing had a purpose, and it was going to start happening all the more frequently.
After dinner, we watch the replay in the living room. I seem honest and myself, a more Effie-like version of myself, but the others assure me I was charming. Peeta was in all forms a true charming during his interview, though he wasn't so sure.
"Wow, Peeta, you're really good in front of a crowd." I say, watching as the rose-smelling joke begins.
"No, I'm really not all that funny." He says, "You were the good one." I nudge him with my elbow.
"You have a real habit of hypocrisy, don't you?" We laugh lightly. You see? This feels normal…ish. Like friends, the way we were for a time before the lone-coaching thing. A little more like friends, but friends just the same.
It's then that I see it, Peeta is the one that continued to make me that 'shining star' Haymitch'd mentioned. Not me, him. His love declaration for me made me memorable, not my Effie-style twirling. It then cuts to Peeta saying '…you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?' Then, when I'm hugging him and displacing several kisses, and we walk off with our pinkies entwined. I suddenly get a shocking jolt when I realize just exactly what day tomorrow is. Tomorrow, at dawn, we will be awakened early to prepare for the arena. Though the actual games don't start until ten, because so many Capitol citizens like to rise later in the day, Peeta and I have an early start to get to.
I know Effie and Haymitch aren't going with us, they leave here and go to the Games Headquarter- -hopefully working twenty-four-seven to get us sponsors. Effie takes both of us by the hand and, with actual tears in her eyes, wishes us well and thanks us for being the best tributes she's had, and eventually as to leave with the parting words, "I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!" and has to leave due to emotional overcome.
Haymitch crosses his arms and looks us over, just as he had the day on the tribute train.
"Any words of final advice?" asks Peeta.
"Stay together, find water a soon as possible, and when the gong sounds- -get the hell out of there. They'll be a bloodbath at the Conrucopia. Don't be a part of it. Just clear out and put as much distance between you and the others, got it?"
"Yeah. Thank you, Haymitch." I say, with genuine gratitude.
Peeta and I both walk up to our rooms together. Having to keep up the act, he wraps his arm around my shoulder. I don't mind as much, the more fear over comes me about tomorrow, the more I feel the need to survive, the less awkward acting like 'star-crossed lovers' with Peeta feels.
When we land at my door, Peeta says, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"And hopefully after that." I say.
I close the door behind me and sprint for my shower. I've been itching all day to get this gold paint and makeup off of me. I'm not used to it and it bothers me so. Unfortunately, I know the one soap that'll get it off. The yellow, lemony one that takes off several thin layers of my skin. I was right, it works perfectly to the point where the only trace of the prep team left is my flame designed fingernails. I want to keep them for as long as possible- -Tulip, the girl on fire.
Next, I go digging through my closest for some sort of pajamas to wear. I finally settle on a dark purple vertical striped pajama pants and shirt combo. I slip into bed and try for a good nights sleep for I know I won't be getting any after tonight.
No such luck.
I wake up several hours later, sweating and scared, because I had that dream again. That one where I die in the games in front of my family, where the watch me on screen. I watch the clock, for I have nothing better to do, and count the minutes that tick by. 1:23, 1:24, 1:25, 1:26…
I get up, bored with counting, and slowly openly door as for it not to creak. I then tip toe down the hall. I wonder if Peeta's awake… I think, maybe he'll watch TV with me…
I open the door, making sure it doesn't wake him if he isn't awake, and peak inside. What? He's not here? Dang it, now I have to channel surf by myself… wait, I know where he'd be!
I rush down the hall towards the staircase, I sprint up them two at a time and peak quietly inside the door- -that was left ajar- -at dome-shaped area that is the roof. The roof is not lit at night, and when I take my first step in the door I immediately see the dark silhouette against the cities bright and endless lights from the Capitol below.
Peeta.
He's sitting with his legs crossed and has his hands in his lap, he's looking down at the city. I hear a large amount of noise, singing, car horns, and music blaring so loud from below that is audible through the thick dome glass. I sit next to him, my knees in front of me and wrap my arms around them.
"You know, you should get some sleep." I kid.
I see him shake his head slightly, only half his face is visible in the light of the Capitol.
"I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all." he says, then squints, "I think they even dressed up in costumes."
"Who'd be able to tell?" I say, and he chortles slightly.
"Couldn't sleep?" He asks.
"My mind wouldn't let me…" I say, remembering my horrible dream.
"Thinking of your family?" he asks.
"Sort of, I fell asleep for a bit and they were… in my dream." I say as a chill goes down my spine. Okay, time to change the subject. "But, mostly about the Games. What it'll be like, what the terrain will be. All that stuff. How are you?"
"Doesn't matter, I've never been much of a contender in this." He says, looking down at his hands.
"That's not true in the slightest." I say, as he looks at me once more. "And you really shouldn't be thinking that way either."
"Why not? It is true. My best hope is to not die disgracing myself and…" he trails off.
"and… what?" I press.
"I don't know how to put it, exactly… I just… want to die as myself. Does that make sense?" he asks. I nod slightly, yeah it actually does. I don't want the Capitol to change me. I mean, the food is good, but the people… not the kind you want to be yourself. I've already acted like Effie once, twice is not my goal. "It's like, I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster I'm not."
"You won't be a monster." I say, he shakes his head, unsure. "Do you not want to kill anyone?"
"No, I'm sure when the time comes I will, just like you or anyone else would." he says, "Only I keep wishing that I could think… think of a way to… to show the Captiol that they don't own me, that I'm not just a pawn in their chess game, you know?"
"But, we have no choice." I say miserably, "We are what we are, and what we kind of are their pawns."
"Okay, but within that framework. There's still you and there's still me," he insists, "don't you see?"
I shake my head sadly, he sighs, "It's okay, but, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?"
He's locked those baby blue eyes on mine, and they're demanding an answer. I try to stare back with the same intensity as I answer, but know I cannot. "Care about staying alive and all the other things Haymitch said."
Peeta smiles at me in a sad and mocking way, "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetie."
I'm just about ready to slap him for that. How dare he call me that offensive nickname from Haymitch. "You know, just go ahead and spend the last hours of your freedom trying to plan a noble death. But me? I'm going to spend it thinking of how I know I'm going to win this for my brother."
"Wouldn't surprise me if you do." he says, "give my mother the best when you get back, will you?"
"Ugh!" I groan, "Peeta the point was for you to find some sort of hope!"
"My hope is that District 12 will have a winner this year, for my family's sake." He says. "I honestly think you'll win."
"Thanks, Peeta." I say, giving up on any chance of making him see hope. I stand up and get ready to leave, but quickly turn around again to displace an honest kiss on Peeta's cheek. I then continue walking towards the door. My hand has just gasped the doorknob when Peeta says, "But, there weren't any cameras." I turn around and lean on the door but don't release my grip on the doorknob, then I look at the Peeta silhouette.
I shrug, "Maybe it wasn't for the cameras.
