Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia nor the characters, they belong to Himaruya Hidekaz-sensei. Hunger Games series belongs to Suzanne Collins. The outfit design belongs to CLAMP.
A/N: Thank you very much for all the great ideas! I went with Serial Mood Killer's, but I'm really thankful for all of them.
Chapter 9: Interview
Betrayal. That's the first thing I feel, followed by anger. Both are ridiculous. Unjustified. I shouldn't feel neither of these, I should be either happy or indifferent, which one is correct, I don't know. But definitely not betrayed, not furious. For me to feel betrayal because of such a thing would mean that he have betrayed my trust. But for that to happen, there would have to be trust first, between him and me. There isn't. He's just an asshole, an enemy, another tribute, a bastard, a liar, another person that wants me dead, someone whom I'll have to kill in order to survive. Not a friend, not an ally, not someone worth my trust. I bite my lip, trying to desperately believe what my mind is telling me.
But my heart knows better, and I secretly agree with that blood-pumping bastard of mine. A person who threw me bread even though he got beaten up for that, someone who lied for me when I slipped about the Avox girl, someone that held my hand to keep me steady in the chariot, told Carlos passionately about my hunting skills so that our fucking mentor would know what I need to learn, an asshole with the fucking brightest smile I've ever seen directed at me… how the hell could I not trust someone like that? Someone so foolishly stupid, so foolishly nice, so painfully, painfully Feliciano like?
On the other hand, I feel relieved. We can finally stop pretending to be best friends, I can drop the smiles and nice words. They were too hard for me, anyway. The 'allies' game finally came to a halt, and I'm glad. It's time. The Games begin in forty-eight hours, and something fucking cheesy like trust or friendliness would just weaken me. Whatever made tomato bastard come to such a decision, I should be grateful for that. Maybe it's because I outperformed him in the training, or maybe he's even more tired of the whole 'friends' bullshit than me. I don't know, and honestly, I don't give a damn. I'm glad he's realized we're enemies, and that's all we'll ever be. It's better, much better that way. And just once, my heart agrees with my mind, and with me.
"Yeah, whatever" I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand "So what's the schedule? You must've divided your time somehow, drinking bastard" he frowns at the nickname, but brushes it off almost instantly.
"Each of ya will get four hours with that pinky guy over here" he points at Feliks "And talk about useless stuff like presentation. And then honey, you'll come back to me for content. Get it?" I nod, watching Feliks' reddening ears.
"What exactly did you, like, call me?" I'm grateful that Carlos waves him off for once. I'm pissed, and I don't really feel like listening to their childish argument. I glance at Antonio and hold back an unpleasant laughter. He's pointedly looking at his folded hands, obviously not wanting to look me in the eye. Coward, I think as I straighten up. Feliks' lips are moving with the speed of light, but I don't exactly hear him. Being able to tune him out, I'm glad I was able to master that incredible ability.
"So, spunky brat, you're startin' with Feliks. Any problems?" both of them are looking at me, and I'm sure that if I turned just slightly, I would see a furious light green eyes daring me to complain. I slowly shake my head, briefly wondering what exactly Feliks would be teaching me for four fucking hours. "Good. He's yours"
The pink bastard smiles with pleasure, and takes my hand in his. I bite my lip, my teeth finding the cut from yesterday, and also the pain. I really just want to pull away, I'm not used to psychical contact, but I know it would upset him. And upset Capitol man is worse than normal Capitol bastard, or so the drunkard's told me.
We reach my room, and he pushes me on the bed, hurrying to the closet. He takes out a pair of high heels from there and places them in front of me, smiling brightly. I stare at him and then at the shoes.
"What are these for?" I ask, trying to sound as not pissed off as possible. I think I'm not very convincing, because his eyebrows furrow, and his smile gets just this tiny bit more fake. His eye twitches, too.
"Why, high heels of course, sweetie" he coos sweetly, but I know he's secretly thinking that I'm stupid. You can see it in his damn eyes.
"Yeah, I can see that. But what are these for?" he tugs a strand of hair behind his ear, and I must admit that he looks quite feminine. I wonder what they're feeding the stupid male bastards here. Yao looks like a fucking woman, Feliks looks like a fucking woman, half of the population in Capitol that isn't a female probably looks like women!
"For walking! Kiku told me that it might be necessary for you to, like, master twirling around in these, in case he doesn't finish your newest outfit on time! I still can't believe you denied his dress, it was, like, totally beautiful. Sparkling red and stuff. All the tributes would be jealous of you, sweetie" he sits down next to me, looking pointedly at black shoes of death.
"What the fuck?" I look at him with wide eyes "Kiku wanted me to wear a fucking dress?" Feliks cringes and shuts his eyes tightly.
"Well of course he did! You have, like, a very smooth skin and full lips. You're the cutest boy I've ever seen, sweetie. People love sweethearts like you, especially if you twirl around in cute dresses, on, like, beautiful heels"
"Well then you're all fucking crazy" I grumble, looking at the deadly shoes in front of me with disgust "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a guy. And men don't wear dresses. Especially not when they're going to their own death" he stares at me with unreadable expression, though his fake smile is still present. He stands up and walks towards the closet. His hand go through multiple fabrics, before he pulls out white material pants and a long, yellow dress. I open my lips, but he holds up his hand.
"Shush!" he walks out from the room, the clothes still in his hands, and comes back a few minutes later with a satisfied smile on his face. He throws the clothes at me. "Now go and change. It's the closest I'll ever get to Kiku's thing, and we'll, like, have to practice you walking around in that"
I put on the clothes, first pants and then the dress, which I realize is ripped in few places. I look in the mirror and stare at myself. It's amazing what few rips can do. The dress looks now like a normal shirt, with just really long strands of fabric from my waist to my ankles. From the back it almost looks like a cape. It also reminds me of a flower, sort of. It's like petals meeting together around the receptacle. It doesn't, however, look like a dress at all. If it was Kiku's idea, then he's actually a genius.
"You look quite dashing right now too, skarbie. Now, practice, practice!" Feliks claps his hands and rushes to my side, pulling my hand once again. He tells me to walk around the room, so I do, but apparently I don't do it gracefully enough. The strands of material that follow me around like a shadow are actually fucking annoying. I spend forty minutes just walking around the room, before the pink bastard finally nods approvingly and tells me to sit down next to him. As soon as I do that, however, he smacks my head.
"What the hell?" I growl, glaring at him.
"Like, loot at your posture! Terrible, just totally terrible!"
For another hour I just keep sitting on my bed. It turns out that sitting normally is a no go, and that I have to sit like a fucking 'good young man'. Since fucking when does your way of sitting decide whether or not you're a 'good young man' goddamit? Also, it turns out that when I sit, I have a tendency of ducking my head. And then comes two hours of fucking smiling. Eye contact, waving your hand, and smiling. The last one is mostly about smiling more often, and less like a murderer because, apparently 'it is, like, totally not cute'. Then there's eye contact, that I better keep up through the whole interview, and try my best not to betray my real thoughts. Like smacking someone in the head, for example. And then there's waving. As soon as I walk in, I'm supposed to wave. Something about getting on people's good side right from the beginning. Then Feliks makes me say various phrases, which usually begin with a smile, end with a smile, and are said with a smile. By the lunchtime, my cheeks are twitching from overuse.
"Well, that's the best I can do" Feliks finally says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Somehow, no matter what he does, he's fucking graceful. "Just, like, remember, Lovino, that you want the audience to like you" he adds, looking at me with tired eyes.
"Are you saying they won't like me?" I ask sullenly. It's a great confidence boost, seriously. Nothing makes you quite as confident as someone saying that no one will fucking like you. Asshole. Or, like Gilbert would say, unawesome.
"Not if you glare at them the entire time, obviously. You have to smile, and leave the glaring for the arena. Like, be happy. Be smiley! Be fun!"
"Why the hell should I smile at someone who's going to enjoy watching me die?" I ask, and he sighs with irritation.
"Think that they're your friends! I'm sure even you can, like, smile at your friends" my mind flashes to Gilbert again, but I try to get rid of the image as fast as I can. My blood boils at a mare idea of someone comparing a true friend to a bunch of strangers, who just want you to die in a most spectacular way possible. I grit my teeth.
"So someone who's betting on my death counts as a friend in Capitol?"
"Well try and pretend that they are!" Feliks spats, his eyes wide from anger. He quickly regains his composure and puts on a fake smile. "See, look at me. I'm totally mad at you, and yet I'm smiling"
"How convincing you are indeed" I grumble under my nose.
"What did you say?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed.
"Nothing" I lie and stand up "I'm going to change and eat. And then I'll catch Carlos. Time's up anyway, isn't it?" he looks at his wristwatch and nods slowly. I quickly undress from the clothes, which I slowly began to hate, and sprint off from the room, before that fucking pink bastard can think of another torturous thing.
Tomato bastard and our stupid mentor both seem to be in pretty good moods. That cheers me up a little. Maybe at least the content session will be an improvement, and maybe it'll actually make a change in my presentation in tomorrow's show. I smile delicately as I head towards the table, but it turns into a frown as soon as my eyes meet Antonio's for a split of second.
After lunch Carlos takes me to a sitting room, orders me to sit on the couch and then just stares at me with a frown for a couple of minutes. It's fucking unnerving and creepy.
"What?" I ask finally, regretting that looks can't kill. His death would be one of the greatest things happening, actually. And I'm sure he's actually a little stoned.
"Nothing. Just trying to figure out what to do with ya, brat" he says, taking a sit next to me. I move away from him, but he moves closer to me right back. I hold back a growl and a string of curses. "How we're going to present you, sweetheart. That's a seriously problematic question. Do we want you to be a charming lil' prince charming? Aloof? Maybe fierce? Do we want them to think you're cute or hot? I've no idea, sweetheart. So far, you're the shining star of these Games. You volunteered for your brother, oh, how brave, how amazing, the people were sayin'. Then Kiku made you look unforgettable with his clothes, and not one person could take their eyes off of ya. You've got the top training score from all of the tributes. People are fascinated, intrigued, curious. They know you're amazing, that you do a lot of incredible things, surely, but they don't know who you are. And they'll want to meet you, get to know you at tomorrow's show. The impression you do tomorrow, will decide exactly what I can do in terms of sponsors for ya" Carlos says, before taking a sip of water from his glass.
Having watched the Games for the past few years, I know that he's right. Whether people will like me, it all depends on the attitude I'll be playing. If you appeal to the crowd, be it when you're being eccentric, playful or brutal, you gain their favor.
"What's tomato bastard's approach? Or am I not allowed to know?" I ask.
"Likable. He doesn't even have to pretend, he was born with a bright personality. People are going to love him, just like moths love flames" he glances at me with a sour expression "And whenever you open your mouth, sweetheart, you just make people want to punch you in the face, and call you sullen, rude and hostile" I look at him with boredom, desperately hoping that he'll choke on his water and drown in his own salvia. Asshole.
"Thanks for the fucking motivational speech, bastard"
"That's what I'm talking about, brat. That attitude of yours, it ain't exactly the most heartwarming thing out there, ya know" he smirks, and looks so smug, that I just want to punch his face with all my strength. But I grit my teeth and just look at him with narrowed eyes. "I don't know where you pulled that cheery, happy lil' prince charming in the chariot from, but I haven't seen him before or ever since" Carlos says, taking another sip of his water.
"Well, I don't exactly have many reasons to be cheery, do I?" he sighs, much like Feliks has before, with irritation. It's kind of awesome to know that I can annoy the hell out of people. Maybe I'll be able to annoy some bastard to death during the Games. I bite my lip again, trying to prevent those thoughts. I'm sure that all the stupid ideas come from Antonio. Obviously, his stupidity has affected me. I knew it was better to avoid that fucker since the beginning.
"Listen, you don't have to please me, okay? Frankly, I could care less if you're a smiling idiot, or a cursing mess. But you have to please the audience and all that shit. I hope you get that. So now, pretend that I'm the audience. Please me. Amuse me. Entertain me" he says with a smug expression, looking at me challengingly.
"Fine" I snarl. He gets into the role of the interviewer and starts asking me questions. I try to answer them as nonchalantly as possible, in a way that would win people's heart, but I can't do it properly. I'm too furious at my mentor, and with every question, my fury grows bigger. I start to think how horribly unfair the Hunger Games and everything related to them are. Thinking that I'll have to act like a mindless puppy, just to please some fuckers I hate makes me want to scream in frustration at the whole world. The longer the interview goes on, the bigger my fury becomes. With every question I'm more pissed, and soon I'm spitting out the answers through gritted teeth.
"Alright brat, enough" Carlos says finally, and by looking at his lifeless eyes, I know I've messed up. "We've got to find you another personality to fit into, because you're not doin' any good at this one. I've asked you fifty questions, and I know nothing about you, your family, your friends, your past, what you care about or about what makes you happy. And you know what? They want to know about you, Lovino. And answers like that would put 'em off"
"But I don't fucking want them to know!" I shout, feeling my anger overcome me completely "They already have my fucking future and know what my little brother looks like, do you seriously think I want these bastards to have my past, too? To know what my best friend is like, or how my father died in a mine accident?! Then you're fucking wrong!"
"Then lie! Make something up!" he yells back, looking just as furious as I do. We stare at each other for a while. Carlos takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh "I know it's not easy, but it's important, brat"
"I can't lie" I say. It's not entirely true, because a big part of my life is made up of lies. At school, near the Peacekeepers, the folks around the town. Even around Feli, sometimes.
"Well you better learn that fast then, because you're about as charming as a dead slug" Carlos says, staring directly into my eyes.
Fuck. That actually hurt. He must've caught on, because his expression turns into an apologetic one, the voice turns softer. "Hey, sweetheart. Why don't you try humble?" he asks, smiling softly. I blink.
"Humble?" I repeat, staring at him disbelievingly. How the fuck does one act humble?
"Well, you know. That you think that Capitol is the most amazing place you've ever seen. That the people are absolutely nice and lovely, and that they're fashion sense is great. Can't forget about their clothes, they practically breath clothes. I don't know, say that you can't believe that all of this is happening to you, a little boy from 12. That the food is delicious. Talk about your stylist, about your prep team. Hell, even about the room you're staying at! If you don't wanna talk about yourself, at least praise the Capitol. Please the audience. Gush, honey. Gush" the only thing that I can think right now is 'how the hell do you gush?'. Carlos is looking at me pointedly, so I clear my throat.
"Yeah, okay. Go" he nods and starts questioning me.
"So, what is your favorite part of the Capitol, Lovino?" I blink. Think, dammit, think. My favorite part of the Capitol? How the fuck should I know, I've never been anywhere outside this stupid residence.
"The… sky" Carlos looks at me with that deadpanned expression.
"Sky? Are you serious, spunky brat?"
"What! I've never been to… well, anywhere here! And I don't like anything in this fucked up city, okay? I don't like the people, I don't like the way they dress, I don't like anything, fucking hell" he asks me some more questions, but it's obvious that I can't gush. The next hours are hell on Earth, the greatest agony of the day, and an absolute torture. Drinking bastard makes me try out many personalities, and none of them is working. I am not likeable, because apparently, I cannot stay not frowning for longer than twenty questions, and my smile is twitching in the corners. According to Carlos, I look like someone's stabbing me with something, and I still try to look cheerful. And failing. The next one is funny, but my fucking mentor doesn't laugh at any of my jokes. Then we try sexy, and even though he thinks that I have enough appeal, I cannot use it for my life. Not my fault no one has flirted with me back in 12. Mysterious doesn't really work either, because I'm too blunt. One of Carlos' greatest plans is me acting cocky, so he's completely devastated when even that fails.
"I thought you would be a very cocky lil' bastard!" he complains. I don't know what to say to him, so I look at my lap. I tried my best to act like Gilbert, but it didn't exactly work out. I'm too 'vulnerable' for ferocity or some shit like that.
By the end of the session, I'm awfully tired and I'm no one at all. Carlos has started drinking wine right after 'cocky' failed, and he sounded quite nasty right now, his voice hoarse. He looks at me with resignation. I turn my eyes away.
"I don't know anymore, sweetheart. I don't know. You're the most difficult tribute I've ever known. You're too blunt. You're too hateful. Just… answer questions and try not to insult people" he finishes and stands up. I grit my teeth but nod, before sprinting to my room.
I eat dinner in complete isolation, ordering as many delicacies as possible. By the time night arrives, there are only few tomatoes left in my tomato mountain. Somehow, these little fruits make me feel better, they take some bitterness and frustration out of me. I refuse to remember that the bread from few years ago had them inside, I refuse to remember tomato bastard's grinning face. I punch my pillow in frustration, taking out my anger on it. Anger caused by Carlos, by Antonio, by Feliks, by Hunger Games, by my fucking unfair destiny, by fucking Capitol people. I throw some plates on the floor, and it actually helps. Helps me remember that they're all just assholes, that I just hate all of them. When the black haired girls come in to turn down my bed, her big eyes widen at the mess in the room.
"Leave it!" I yell, glaring at her hotly "Just leave it alone!"
Her, too. I hate her too. I hate her eyes, knowing and judgmental. I hate her for her thoughts, which probably are the same as the ones in my dreams. That I'm a weakling, a coward, Capitol's puppet, a heartless demon that didn't even try to save her. She probably thinks that justice has finally come to pass. Hopefully, my death will please her. A pay back, life for a life. Mine for her brother's, or friend's or boyfriend's, I don't know who he was to her. I watch as she leaves the room in a hurry, and punch the bed once more. I hate it, too. Fucking Capitol people, living in luxury.
I snap my head up at the sound, and feel my eyes widen. She's back, holding a wet cloth in her hands. She slowly walks towards me, carefully avoiding broken plates and glasses. She wipes my head off sweat and dirt, before reaching for my hands, smeared with blood. She carefully wipes them, too, and ten runs a finger through each scar. Why is she doing that? Why am I letting her do that?
"I should have tried to save you" I whisper, watching her feminine, small, soft hands. They don't feel rough like a man's hand. They feel comforting, supporting.
She shakes her head, giving me a soft squeeze. What does that mean? That Gil and I were right to stand by? That she's forgiven us? That it was okay to not do anything?
"No, I've done wrong not trying to help you" I say, looking up at her. "I shouldn't have just stood there, doing nothing. You deserved to be saved. You deserved to be alright" I press. She glances at me, and shakes her head again. Then she taps her lips and points at my chest, her eyes never breaking the contact with mine. I think she means that I wouldn't be able to help her. That I'd end up as an Avox too. Or that I'd be dead. And I probably would have.
"Still, a man that doesn't help a woman isn't worth calling himself a man" I say slowly, repeating the words my father has always repeated to me. I feel stupid for yelling at her earlier. I shouldn't have. She hasn't done anything wrong. Her eyes twinkle, and for the first time I see her smile ever so slightly. All the anger I've felt previously disappears.
I spend the next hour helping her clean the mess in the room. I pick up the broken plates, and she sweeps away all the remains of glasses. When the garbage is done, she turn down my bed and points at it, then at me, and then at a clock. I understand instantly. I crawl into bed, much like a five year old kid would, and let her tuck me in. She gives me another weak smile, and leaves my room. I want her to stay. I want her to stay at least long enough for me to fall asleep. I want her to be here when I wake up. But her face isn't the last thing before I finally pass out. It's darkness.
When I wake up, a pretty Avox girl isn't the first sigh I see, either. It's Leon's expressionless face. I can vaguely hear Mei and Yong Soo somewhere in the room, talking not quite silently enough. That's right, I think. My lessons with Carlos and Feliks are over. Today is Kiku's day. He's my last hope, my last possibility. Maybe he'll come up with an idea who I should be. Maybe he'll make me look so wonderful, that I won't have to fucking worry about who to be. Maybe I'll look well enough for Capitol people to not care too much about my responses.
My prep team works on me till late afternoon, turning my skin into a glowing masterpiece. Yong Soo paints designs on my arms, all the while trying to persuade me that my chest belongs to him. Mei slaps his head and chatters away, as she paints flame designs on my nails. It's girly as fuck, but I don't tell her anything, because it's their job to do everything to make me look as good as they expect. She says something about this incredible new fashion in the Capitol, and I stop listening right then. She doesn't seem to notice though. Leon is silent the whole time he weaves strands of red into my hair my hair, in a pattern that begins behind my left ear, and finishes at the very end of my haircurl. They darken my eyebrows, and add some pink to my cheeks, making it look like I'm blushing. That, too, is fucking stupid, but I don't comment on that either. Finally, they cover my entire body in a powder, that makes me sparkle with golden dust.
Then Kiku enters with something that must be my outfit for the night, but I'm not sure, because it's covered. He smiles delicately. "Close your eyes, Lovino-kun"
They help me put on the pants, and then I feel some material slid over my shoulders. I briefly wonder if it'll be any similar to the outfit Feliks made me wear, but I brush it off, too relieved that it isn't a dress. I clutch Mei for support when they slip me into my shoes, completely flat to my relief. There's some adjusting and hushed whispers. Then silence.
"Can I open my eyes already?" I ask, a little uncomfortable.
"Yes" Kiku says, his voice quiet "Open them, Lovino-kun"
I stare at the stranger looking back at me in the mirror. I don't recognize that person. The man in front of me is wearing black pants, ending a little bit before the ankle, and a shirt very similar to the one Feliks made me wear before, but yet so different. It's black and has tiny red buttons at the top, making it look a tad like the shirt Yao wears. There are no sleeves, however the patterns Yong Soo's drawn previously compliment it nicely. At the left side of the shirt, there is a flame, going all the way down the cape-like strands of clothing. I notice that the material is mostly black on the outside, excluding the flame patterns, but on the inside, it's bloody red. The outfit is covered in reflective precious gems, red and yellow and white, with bits of black and blue that accent the tips of the flame design. Adding the golden dust, and the slightest movements gives impression that I am surrounded by fire.
I'm not pretty, cute, beautiful or hot. I am as radiant as a fucking sun.
For a while there's silence, and we all stare at me. I turn to Kiku.
"Thank you" I choke out. I'm not used to these words, I'm really not. He takes my hand into his and squeezes it delicately, sending me a small smile. I smile back, a real, genuine smile, and Mei giggles.
"Will you twirl for me, Lovino-kun?" Kiku asks. If it was someone else, I would say no, I would say fuck you, but it's Kiku and he makes me feel better. I hold out my arms and spin around. My prep team screams in admiration, and Kiku's smile widens.
He dismissed my prep team. Yong Soo and Mei hug me tightly, wishing me good luck. Leon gives me a reassuring smile and a nod, and walks out after his friends. Kiku looks up at me and makes me walk around the room in the clothes, making sure that I'm a dazzling, radiant creature with every step I take. Doing all of this, walking around and smiling is much easier around my stylist than Feliks, I muse to myself.
"That's enough, Lovino-kun. Would you care to join me on the sofa?" he asks, and I don't exactly have a choice. I take a sit next to him, and meet his eyes. Warm, brown eyes, wishing me nothing but the best "Are you ready for the interview then, Lovino-kun?" he asks quietly. Judging by his voice and expression, I can tell that he's heard from that fucking drinking bastard about my condition. No reason to lie, I think.
"Not at all. I'm fucking awful at all of that. Carlos said I have about as much charm as a dead slug. No matter what we tried, I couldn't be any of these people. I can't do any of the impressions. I suck, Kiku" he stares at me and takes my hand into his again. It's incredibly hot against my cold one. It feels nice.
"Why not be yourself?" he says casually, looking at the wall intensely. I blink.
"Myself? Oh, you've got to be kidding me, idiot. Have you ever seen be myself? I fucking curse a lot, insult people, I'm sullen and hostile. Well, that's what the drinking bastard says and-" I'm interrupted by his chuckle. I turn to glare at him "And what the hell is so funny, bastard?"
"Oh, no, Lovino-kun, I just think that you're completely adorable and charming" I blink again, staring at him with disbelief. Adorable and charming? Me? "You are hostile and sullen, but only around Carlos-san. Around me, you are not like that at all"
"I'm not?" I ask stupidly, and he actually laughs.
"Not at all, no. I don't find you so. You're very natural towards me. You say what you feel, and that's incredible. I really like you, Lovino-kun. The prep team adores you, Mei-chan talks about you all the time, believe me. People from the Capitol can't take you of their tongues, you're nearly everything they discuss about in excited whispers. You even won the Gamemakers, Lovino-kun. People adore you and your brave spirit"
"My spirit" I echo. That's a new, refreshing thought. It suggests that I'm a fighter, in a brave way. It's not as if I'm never friendly. Okay, maybe I'm not the friendliest person out there, who's all smiles and sunshine, but I do have my moments, too. My smile and laughter might not be easy to come by, but it's not like they're never here. They are, especially in the woods. Maybe I don't go around, loving all people that I meet, but I certainly have those that I care about dearly, these I would do anything for just to keep them from harm.
Kiku runs a thumb across my hand. It's soothing. "About the questions, forget that there are Capitol people there, Lovino-kun. Think that you're addressing a friend back home. That you're answering his or her questions. Who would your best friend be?"
"Gilbert" I answer instantly, and Kiku's smile twitches just a bit wider "But that's stupid. Why would I answer the questions? He already knows everything there is to know about me. He wouldn't have asked me these questions. There's no way that I can do it, Kiku" I add quickly. Shit, I'm starting to sound like a little frightened girl.
"What about me?" he cuts in quickly "Could you think of me as a friend, Lovino-kun?" I nod slowly. Ever since I came to the Capitol, Kiku's been the only one that hasn't disappointed me. I liked him ever since I first came here. It's like he had a vibe that screamed 'friend' at me. By far, he's the only one that seems to understand me, even if only a little bit.
"I think I could" I agree "But Kiku, what-"
"I'll be sitting on the main platform with the other stylists" I should probably punch him for cutting me off all the time like that. "When you're asked a question, find me, look at me, and answer the question as honestly as you can. Can you promise me that, Lovino-kun?"
"Are you insane?" I manage "What do you mean honestly? Whatever they'll ask me, I'll probably think something horrible. Do you seriously want me to answer honestly when what I think is horrible?" he nods.
"Especially when what you think is horrible. Will you try it?" I nod. It's a plan. Maybe not the greatest, but definitely the one most likely to succeed in my case.
"You're an insane bastard, you know that?" he laughs, and I give a small smile of my own. Soon it's time to go, but it's way too fast for me. We leave my room and go towards the elevator. The interviews take place on a stage constructed in front of the Training Centre. I can hear Yong Soo's cheerful voice in the distance and I stop. Kiku looks at me.
"I think I have stage fright" I say quietly, because it's fucking embarrassing and cowardly. In just a few minutes, I'll be in front of the cameras and the crows, answering fucking questions. That's not exactly my idea of 'fun'.
"Remember that they already love you" he says gently, taking my hand into his again. "Be yourself" I nod, and we start walking again. I see Yao's figure in the distance and turn to my stylist.
"One last question before you send me to my death on the stage" he shakes his head with a disbelieving smile, and I smirk back. "How old is Yao exactly? It's been fucking bugging me since yesterday" he laughs loudly, which ends up with everyone from our team turning in our direction. He leans in to my ear, and whispers
"No one knows, Lovino-kun. No one knows" his voice is so serious and mysterious, and yet he has that wicked grin on his face, that I can't stop myself. I burst into genuine laughter, not caring that Antonio's and Carlos' eyes are wide from shock, or that everyone is staring at us. As we finally approach the rest of our crew standing next to the elevator, I glance at tomato bastard. He's wearing a nice, black suit with flame accents. It's striking and we match nicely together, but I'm glad we're not dressed identically. I nod at my fucking mentor, but try to avoid eye contact with him as much as possible. Even though my anger's melted, I still haven't forgiven him. Feliks approaches me and showers me with praise. I accept the words gratefully, because even though the pink bastard can be annoying as hell and he gets on my nerves, he's not as destructive as the fucking drunkard.
When the elevator opens, the other tributes are lined up to take the stage. All twenty four of us sit in a big arc thorough the interview. Since I'm from District Twelve, I'll be either going last or second to last, I don't know yet. It's really fucking unfair. For once they could start from the end, so that I could go first and get it over with. But no, as always, District One must begin and I'll be stuck watching all the witty, cute, smart, likeable, fierce, humble, sexy and charming bastards. My stage fright will only get worse as I watch everyone go up on the stage. Plus the audience will get bored, just like the Gamemakers did. And I can't exactly shoot an arrow at these assholes, no matter how much I want to. Or can I? Kiku said that I should be myself, and right now, I want to kill everyone in the room with my whole existence. I resist the urge to slap myself, and instead look at the other tributes. They're all stunning.
Right before we parade onto the stage, Carlos comes behind me and Antonio and growls "Remember that you're still a happy pair, brats. So act like it"
What? I thought we fucking abandoned that whole 'friendship' act as soon as tomato bastard asked to be coached separately! I turn to him with a glare, and find his eyes as confused as mine. For a brief second, our eyes lock, but I turn mine faster than he can his. So I guess that the fact that we're not 'friends' anymore is a private thing, not a public one. Anyway, not like there will be much chance for us to show the world how much we like each other, not here. A tall woman with greenish blue hair and a clothing that no Capitol woman would be ashamed of, is leading us to single-file to our seats. Just stepping on the stage makes my stomach tighten unpleasantly, and my heartbeat quicken rapidly. My breathing gets shallow and the only thing that keeps me from tripping is the chair that I've finally reached. Although the evening is falling, the City Circle is brighter than a summer day. An exclusive seating unit has been set up for prestigious guests, with the stylist in the front row. On the far right off the building, on a balcony, the Gamemakers are all already gathered. Other balconies are mostly occupied by Television crews. And then there are people. A lot of Capitol people gathering in the City Circle, standing. There are hundreds or maybe even thousands of them. I swallow, feeling heat rise to my cheeks and my pulse quicken even more. At homes and community halls around the country, every television set is turned on. Every citizen of Panem can see this place, the people, the Tributes, and me. There won't be any blackouts today or energy shortage. Everyone will see me sit here awkwardly and look absolutely miserable in the stunning clothing Kiku's made for me. Fucking peachy.
Tino Väinämöinen, the man who has hosted the interviews for the past forty years, is a blond haired man with strands of dark blue and bits of yellow in his hair. He's probably more than sixty years old already, but looks no more than twenty five. He's looked like that since the first interview he's hosted, and it's fucking scary. The only thing that's changed are the colors on his hair. Last year it was red and green, the year before it was orange, and the year before that, it was a fucking rainbow.
He's wearing a white suit, with dark blue patterns on his right side. It's dotted with thousands electronic balls, and makes him shine like a starry sky in the night. I heard that they do special surgeries to people in Capitol to make them look younger and prettier, but I don't know how true that is. Tino looks absolutely natural to me, and Yao does too. They don't come off as people who would do these kind of things, but maybe I'm wrong. I have no idea what is wrong with Capitol anyway. Back in District 12, living up to an old age is worth congratulating. It's almost impossible to find people over forty, because hunger takes them away. Same with plump people. At home, when you see a person with some body fat, you envy them. You envy that they have food, that they look so well fed, that they're not suffering from hunger. But here? Here round belly is something unacceptable, ugly. Everyone that isn't slim is basically treated like an outcast. Then again, they never had to worry about their food. The Capitol and District 12 are two different words, I remind myself. Tino tells a few jokes to warm up the audience, but then he straightens up and calls the first person.
The gender confused bastard from 1 steps up to the center of the stage to join Tino. His, or maybe hers, blond hair are curled in a shape that reminds me of Feli's goat's horns. She, or maybe he, is wearing tight gold pants and matching long-sleeved shirt with beautiful ornaments. He-she, looks absolutely adorable, even I must admit it. After just a few questions I know he-she is humble, and fuck, that bastard pulls it off marvelously, with these blushing rosy cheeks and dreamy smile. I could never pull that off.
After three minutes the buzzer goes off, and the next tribute is up. This amount of time is both too long and too short, in my opinion. It would be better if you wouldn't need to go out there at all, but since you're already there, how the fuck are people supposed to know who you are just after three minutes? Then again, the shorter you're out there, the less time you have to make some embarrassing mistake. And even when you do, Tino is always there supporting you. He laughs at lame jokes, talks about the topics that make the tribute shine the most. He's very supportive.
I sit like a gentleman, just like Feliks instructed me to. I play with my hands as the tributes and districts slip by. The girl from 2 is beautiful, and I think she goes for a combination of sexy and dangerous. She pulls it out easily, in her purple dress and heels. After her goes her fellow tribute, and he's definitely aiming to look like a killing machine. He answers the questions cheerfully, but there's a dangerous glint in his blue yes. 3, 4. The girl from Five is sly and elusive, the bottom of her gown remind me of mermaid's tail. I spotted Kiku and Yao as soon as they took their places, but even my stylist's presence can't comfort me. 6, 7, 8, 9. I try to remember all the lame jokes Gilbert's told me, all of his 'I'm awesome', his stupid little brother that clearly has hots for Feli. I try to remember Feliciano's fat cat, his goat, his radiant smiling face. The woods, hunting, my bow and arrow. My mom, my dad, the songs we sang together before his death. Kiku, Kiku, what was Kiku's fucking advice again? The boy and girl from Ten both come on and off the stage, and soon it's little Emma's turn. She has a plain, white dress, tied with a red ribbon around her waist. She's wearing flat shoes and angel wings on her back. She looks so innocent and pure, so child-like. As she takes her place next to Tino, hush falls over audience. The interviewer's very sweet with her, complimenting her seven in the training, a score excellent for someone her age. She thanks him with a delicate smile, and something clutches me by my heart. She's only 12, I realize yet again. I try to focus again. Tino asks her what her greatest skill in the arena will be, and she doesn't hesitate to answer.
"I'm very hard to catch" she says, looking absolutely sure with these shining eyes of hers. "And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out" she adds, looking up at Tino.
"I wouldn't in a million years, little angel" he says encouragingly.
The boy from Eleven, Lars, is completely different than Emma. He might have blond hair and green eyes, just like her, but that's about as far as the similarities go. There's a scar above is right eye, he's tall and intimidating. I'm sure he's about three heads taller than me, maybe three and a half. He's body is built like a fucking ox. But he didn't join the Careers, I remember. They invited him to join their table of snobs, but he wouldn't go. He sat alone and minded his own business, he didn't care much about the training, but still got a 10. There's no mistake that he's impressed the Gamemakers. Tino tries to pull him into a conversation, but he completely ignores it, answering with only yes or no. At other times, he's silent.
That's unfair, I think angrily. If only I was his size, being hostile and sullen would be totally fine! Better yet, it would play in my favors! A huge, unsociable guy with amazing score? I'm sure at least half of the people here are considering to become his sponsor. Hell, I would bet all my money on him if I could.
And then they're calling Lovino Vargas. This is it, I think as I stand up. Fucking hell. I really hope that people in the audience can't see the inner fight I have with my own sanity, but I think that they don't, because they're all too fascinated with Kiku's work of art. Thank you, you perverted bastard you. I take Tino's outstretched hand and shake it. When he doesn't wipe it off right into his suit, I decide that he's a good man.
"So, Lovino. I believe that the Capitol is a huge change from District Twelve, isn't it? They must be very different. Tell me, what impressed you the most since you came here?" Tino asks.
What.
No, seriously, what the hell did he just say? It doesn't make any sense, what is he talking about? I feel my mouth go dry and desperately look for Kiku in the crowd. Our eyes lock and I imagine the words coming out from his mouth. 'What impressed you the most?'. He told me to be honest, completely honest. What made me happy since coming here?
"The tomato soup" well damn, I've definitely caught Antonio-Gilbert-Feliciano kind of virus, because I've became fucking stupid.
Tino, however, laughs in amusement, and I notice that some people from the audience have joined him. "The extra creamy one?" he asks and I nod slowly. He closes his eyes and smiles contently "Oh, I love it. I eat at least one plate a day" he says sweetly, before turning to the people with a mock-horror expression., patting his belly "It doesn't show, does it?" the crowd yells back their responses, reassuring him that he's looking perfectly in-shape. That's what I meant about Tino supporting you. He tries to help you out as much as possible.
"You know, Lovino, when you came out in the opening ceremony, my heart actually stopped. You looked absolutely stunning. What did you think of your costume?"
"You mean after I got over my fear that, oh my God, I'll burn alive in few moments?" I respond, trying to be as honest as possible.
Big laugh. A real one from the audience.
"Yes, exactly" he grins at me sweetly, and I feel myself relaxing just a bit.
Think of Kiku. I'm sure he wants to know anyway, he's never asked. Yes. He deserves to know. "I think it was incredibly beautiful. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. It was so gorgeous, I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I couldn't believe the person on the screen, wearing that amazing piece of art was me. I can't really believe I'm wearing that one, either" I point at my outfit, quite proud of myself for not adding any cuss words in between. The audience lets out 'ooh's and 'ahh's. I notice Kiku's finger trail a little circle in the air, and I know what he's saying. Twirl for me. Again, it's fucking stupid and girly, but I'm doing it for a friend.
I stand up and spin around, and the reaction is immediate. People scream in adoration, and I know I'm doing well. Better than I would have done without my stylist.
"Could you do that again?" Tino asks politely, his eyes sparkling with interest. I look at Kiku and he's nodding his head delicately. One more time, I tell myself. For Kiku. I spin around again, giving the impression that my outfit is on fire. Right after that, I sit down and notice Tino's sad expression.
"Can't you do that again?" he asks, but I shake my head 'no' with a little giggle. God, I really hope that it sounded like a giggle. I don't fucking giggle. But judging by Tino's wide grin, I congratulate myself on doing a fairly good job so far. "Well alright, we don't want you to feel dizzy and end up like your mentor" he winks his eye, and all the cameras turn towards Carlos, who is by now very famous for his fall during the reaping. He waves them off lazily and points back at me.
"So Lovino, how about your training score? E-le-ven! That's really incredible! Give us a hint, what's happened there?"
I glance at the Gamemakers and bite my lip. I can't tell them, right? Hell, I don't want to tell them. "I don't think that I can tell you, but I'm pretty sure it was a first"
The cameras are on the Gamemakers, who are nodding and smiling, some are laughing at the memory. I suppress a smirk of my own. "Oh, you're killing us!" Tino moans, pouting in that cute fashion "Details, we need details!" he says and the crowd applauds. Shit. Think, Lovino, think.
"I'm not supposed to talk about it, am I?" I ask, my eyes focused on the balcony. Cooperate with me, goddamit.
"He is not!" one of them yells, and I recognize him as the guy who fell into the punch bowl. It's hard to forget that face.
"Thank you" I nod and turn back to Tino, who is wearing a kicked puppy expression. Thank God I had years of training with Feli back home "Sorry, my lips are sealed"
"Let's go back to the day of the reaping then. And the moment they called out your little brother's name" he says quietly. The atmosphere around us grows more serious "Then you volunteered. Can you tell us about him?"
No, I definitely can't tell all of you. Not someone, who could have been the reason for my brother's death if I hadn't volunteered. But I could tell Kiku. I'm definitely not imagining the sadness on his face, it's clear like a cloudless sky. He really feels awful about me having to answer that damn question.
"His name is Feliciano" I start quietly, remembering his warm brown eyes and bright smile "And he's only twelve. He's too young to be here, too young to be a tribute. He's my little sun and my absolute everything. And I love him more than anything"
The City Circle is frighteningly silent now.
"What did he say to you? After the reaping?" maybe it's just me, but Tino is whispering. I swallow hard. Honest, I have to be honest.
"He asked me to try really hard to win" I say, not breaking my eye contact with him. I can actually hear his breath hitch. The audience, too, seems frozen in terror.
"And what did you tell him?" Tino asks gently.
But it doesn't make me feel any warmth. Quite the opposite. The bastard in front of me is one of the reasons I had to come here, one of the reasons my little brother was in danger. All of these people in the City Circle, too, they might feel bad now, but in reality they'll enjoy seeing me die, just like they would enjoy seeing my little brother die. These Games are a form of entertainment for them. I feel an icy rigidity take over my body. My muscles tense as they do before I kill. When I speak, my voice seems to have dropped to a cold growl "I swore I would"
"I bet you did" Tino gives me a light squeeze. I have to try my hardest not to slap his hand. And then the buzzer goes off. "Sorry, we're out of time. I wish you the best of luck, Lovino Vargas from District Twelve" we shake hands and I head to my sit. The applaud continues long after I'm seated. I breath out a sigh of relief and turn to look at Kiku. He's giving me a small smile and subtle thumbs up. I did fine.
During the first part of Antonio's interview, I'm still in a daze. He has the audience from get-go, though. He's playing the 'likeable' part very well, just like he does the 'baker's son' part. I vaguely register him talking about different kind of breads, and then comparing the tributes to the bread from their district. It earns him a lot of laughs. Then he says something about the showers and smelling like roses, and for some seconds he and Tino take turns to smell each other, every time not convinced if the other smells like roses. The audience is charmed by that, and they're laughing the whole time. My whole focus only comes back when Tino's asking him if he has a girlfriend at home.
Tomato bastards hesitates, and gives an unconvincing shake of his head. Seriously? He has a girlfriend? An idiot like him? I bet she went for his looks.
"Oh come one, a handsome lad like you? I'm sure there is a special someone in your heart, you just don't want to admit it"
The idiot sighs and looks up at the crowd with a blush. "Well, there is one person. He's a boy though, the cutest and greatest person I've ever known. I've had a crush on him ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure he didn't know I was alive till the day of reaping" he says, and people shout in sympathy. They can relate to that, an unrequired love. How fucking touching.
"Oh? Has he got a girlfriend? Or maybe another boy?"
"I don't know, but a lot of girls like him. They're very crazy about him, but think that he's unapproachable. And I think that some boys have a crush on him, too" I raise my brow. There's someone like that in Twelve? I had no idea.
"So then, here's what you do. You win, go home and ask him out. There's no way he'll turn you down, eh? Surely, no one can say no to a person that came back from the Games" Tino says encouragingly. All traces of smile disappear from tomato bastard's face. Instead, there's sort of a pained expression crossing his face.
"I don't really think it's going to work out, señor Tino. Winning won't help. Not in my case"
"And why not, dear?" Tino asks, mystified. Even I'm a bit curious.
Antonio blushes tomato red and his eyes fall on his lap. "Because…" he starts, stuttering "Because he came here with me"
Tino Väinämöinen (Finland) as Caesar Flickerman
Lars Jensen (Netherlands) as Thresh
A/N: For Lovino's outfit, go to zerochan.n-e-t/609066 (get rid of the lines). Thank you all very much yet again for the numerous ideas. They were all great, but I had no idea how to write them down ;A; . Plus this one was brilliant, too.
'Finland is Caesar?! WTF Fekete?!' oooh, I know, okay? I know.
Also, I noticed that I will nearly always publish stuff at least three days after the date I set for myself. This time, it's Tumblr's fault. I got addicted. So you'll get the next chapter tomorrow (read: next Saturday)
And I just wanted to say that I kinda liked Cinna with Katniss together, so sorry if these moments are kinda Romapan-ish. Worry not, that's mainly the reason why Kiku is with Yao. So that I could, you know, restrain myself. Plus they're adorable *cough*.
Oh, and just wanted to tell you that it's the longest chapter I've ever written. Like, holy heaven.
Yes. Well. Thanks for reading ^^. I love you all! Have a great week, my lovely friends!