Note: Sorry this is a little late. I expected to be done sooner... I'll try to get the next one done earlier. I promise. :)
And... this is the tenth chapter! Yay! I know there are authors out there on FanFiction with 50 chapter stories, or over 100 stories total, but this feels like a huge accomplishment to me. And I have to thank CleoKatra Emerald and pjoy11 for reviewing. Without you (and everyone else who has reviewed this), I don't know if I would have even gotten to this point. So thanks, everyone!
CleoKatra Emerald- I would PM you with my answer to your question, but I couldn't, so I'll just answer it here! You can copy it into a word doc, as long as you just keep it for yourself to read, and don't pretend that you wrote it or anything like that. I feel honored that you want to keep it! If anyone else wants to do this, please let me know.
I would also like to give a huge thank you to CCullenGirl for designing Veronica/Foxface's interview outfit! It is amazing, and I definitely could not have come up with one on my own. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
One last note: Does anyone think that my chapters are too short? I can make the next ones longer, if people think I should. The reason I'm asking this is because I looked back at one of the previous chapters to check a name or something, and realized that the chapter seemed... short. Or maybe it's just me. Review with your opinion. Actually, review about anything in this story. I love reviews, and they motivate me to update quicker. So please, please review!
Disclaimer: There are some quotes from The Hunger Games in this chapter. They are dialogue that would be hard for me to exclude. I did not write them, and I don't own The Hunger Games or Twilight.
Enough of this. Enjoy this chapter!
Training with my escort (whose name I still can't remember) was boring. I had to pretend that I didn't know how to walk in heels—because I seriously doubted that anyone in my District Five orphanage had even seen high heeled shoes before. And then I had to learn how to smile while talking. Absolutely horrendous—and it didn't help that my escort was insanely irritating the whole time.
Training with Zella for my interview was more interesting, but not by much. She stared at me for a while in the beginning, which was immensely creepy.
"What exactly are you doing?" I asked after a long pause.
"Trying to figure out what you're angle should be… I don't know much about you." she replied.
"Well, I can't exactly be Miss Likeable and Perfect." I retorted.
"How do you know what my interview angle was? I won the fifty-second Games… that was twenty-two years ago—before you were born." I suppressed a grin. If only she knew. "How did you find this out?"
"The orphanage was boring."
"You lived in an orphanage?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you have any friends to pass time with?"
"I didn't have close friends."
"You still didn't answer my question."
I shrugged. "Watching reruns of the Games on TV passed the time."
"But why do you remember my interview?"
"I remember your Games well because I kind of… idolized you."
"Why?"
"You were so brave. And you're the only female Victor from Five that I can recall"
Zella sighed. "That just proves my point. I know nothing about you. And… it took you a while to answer the question. Do you want me to help you or not?" She paused. "Don't answer that." She quickly added.
More awkward silence passed as Zella studied me, obviously deep in thought. After several minutes, she sighed in defeat. "It's useless! I can't think of any angle that you could successfully pull off that could get you sponsors! You're just too evasive!"
"That's a bad thing?" I asked.
Zella tilted her head, and made a strange "huh"-ing sound as she contemplated something.
"You didn't answer my question…" I said, confused and slightly creeped out.
"I think you have a point…" she said slowly.
"That you didn't answer my question?" I asked, extremely puzzled.
"No. That being evasive just might work…"
We then practiced for the interview. I suppose I was "naturally elusive" or whatever, but the truth was that I didn't really have a past life that I could talk about on live TV, besides my three years in the orphanage. But I managed.
The next day, Glaucia, Hilaria, and Iunius were back to prepare me for the interviews. I didn't pay attention to a single word that bubbled out of their cosmetically altered mouths, or what they were doing to me.
Alban came with my dress, and told me to close my eyes as he slipped it on. Suddenly, I had a flashback of Khristal and Preana from the previous two Games. Khristal had long legs, a long torso, and big eyes with enormous eyelashes. Preana was shorter, with curly hair and a longer nose. Both of their interview dresses were ghastly.
Khristal was a giraffe. Preana was a sheep.
The costumes portrayed them well as animals, but they were not flattering at all. And really, who wants to wear a dress weighted down by thousands of cotton balls?
"Open your eyes!" commanded Alban, barely containing his glee.
I braced myself for the worst.
But when I opened my eyes… I didn't look terrible. My dress wasn't covered in cotton balls.
The girl I saw in the mirror was wearing a floor length, short sleeved gown with a deep V-neck that was a beautiful reddish-orange. She had long, black gloves that came up to her elbow. The tip of her nose was black, and around her eyes was a small amount of black eye shadow. She was wearing simple black flats. Her long red hair shimmered in the light.
I couldn't believe it was me.
Even more so, I couldn't believe that Alban made it. For once, he saw a beautiful animal in a tribute.
He smiled. "I thought you'd like it."
"I love it." I whispered.
I can't remember much after that. I was whisked to the stage, and sat with the other tributes. The host, Caesar Flickerman, told a few jokes, and then brought out the girl from District One.
The time passed. Twenty-four minutes, to be exact, with three minutes for each of the eight tributes before me. Then it was my turn.
I walked on stage, slightly nervous. I suppose all the tributes were nervous, but how many of them were worried about being exposed as vampires on live television?
The audience studied my costume, and collectively gasped. They were as surprised as I was at the beauty of it. They were expecting another sheep.
Caesar shook my hand. "So, Veronica, how are you doing tonight?"
"Fine."
"Anything interesting about you that you want to share with us?"
Immediately, I thought yes, I'm actually not a human, and I really want to kill you and drink your blood right now. But I could never say that. So instead I replied "Like what?"
"Like… are you as fox-like as your stylist implies?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I'm the one who's supposed to be asking the questions, Veronica. You're the one being interviewed." The audience chuckled.
"But are you asking if I look like a fox under this makeup," I insisted, as another small laugh trickled out of the audience, "or if I am clever, like all stereotypical foxes are?"
"I meant the latter, but you can answer both if you like."
"Well, I suppose both the answers would just be a matter of opinion."
Caesar threw his hands up in mock frustration. "We're getting nowhere! Why can't you just make this easier for me?"
"Well, Caesar, that would take all the fun out of this for me! I do need to have some fun before I go into the arena, you know?"
He half-chortled. "Well, that is true."
We continued—him asking questions, me dodging them. Eventually, my time was up, and I left the stage.
The other interviews passed. I zoned out for most of them, pondering my "death". But I made myself pay attention as the boy from District Eleven returned to his seat. The girl from District Twelve walked onstage. Her dress was spectacular—covered in sparkling gems. It shimmered, and I saw that her stylist had continued with the fire theme.
Her interview however—mediocre. The best part was when she talked about her sister. But did that set her apart from the others? Not by much. They all had family wanting them to come home a victor.
As she left the stage, I stifled a yawn. Her district partner took her place onstage with Caesar.
He was great. He had all of the right words, and knew how to get the audience laughing. But that didn't prepare any of us for what came next.
"So, Peeta, you have a special girl at home?"
He hesitated, and then unconvincingly shook his head.
Caesar pushed. Everyone knew he lied. Everyone knew that there was a special someone.
"Well," everyone leaned forward in their chairs, not wanting to miss a single word, "there is this one girl."
The sad story unfolded. He had a crush on her as long as he could remember. She didn't know he existed. Oh, poor him. He went on to explain, that if he won, it wouldn't help him. By now, everyone was confused. Why not?
Oh wait, she was his District partner.
In that instant, the girl from District Twelve changed from a girl on fire, whose reputation was created by her stylist, to half of a match made in heaven.
Once again, I smiled, knowing that all cameras would be on the unlucky pair. For once, odds were absolutely in District Twelve's favor.