I wake from my small nap, to realise it wasn't a small nap, it was a long one. From noon to now, it's already dusk, making me jolt awake, and 4 pairs of bright; glinting eyes are trained on me.
"Wake up!" Avia beckons, pulling on my arm with a slight tug.
I wake up slowly but surely, and the bathroom floor is lined with necessities for my hair and body. They need me to look my utter best for tonight's interviews.
I remain groggy, but the next thing you know, I'm being stripped off my clothing, and being shoved into the bathtub within a split second.
"Oh! We're so excited for your interview!" Isis smiles widely, squeezing an enormous amount of thick, clear shampoo into her painted hand. She then rubs it across my head, sweeping various circles and lines into my hair. She detangles my hair off the tangles and knots, leaving my hair for its second wash.
"I hope you'll do well!" Avia screeches right after her team mate, bobbing my leg up for her to take a look at. She rubs it with a loofa sponge, scratching my skin into perfection. The soapy bubbles are lessening the pain of the somewhat painful scrubbing up and down my leg.
"Oh, she will," Myrina bumps in, arriving with a brew of soft, baby blue bubbles in her arms.
"Now, hold still and I'll rub this on your arms," Myrina commands me, as I stretch out my arm gently. She squirts a handful of the stuff into her open palm and starts rubbing my skin. The sensation is quite new, since nobody in district 4 has been rubbed with this contraption, well, the victors maybe, but the other people, not a chance.
Just when I was about to open my mouth to ask what it is, Myrina tilts her head up to me.
"It's some kind of a skin softener, to keep it smooth and shiny, since you'll be wearing a strapless dress." She rambles on, and as if reading the stare she's getting from Avia, she hushes up.
"I'm sorry, erase what I just said," a small blush performs a small entrance on her cheek. She didn't mean to say that.
After my hair has had its third and final rubbing, and I'm deemed ready. They get me out of the tub, slowly, careful not to rub my 'perfectly smooth' legs into any furniture. I get to the chair without any bumps or disfigurations, so I'm okay. The team slips me into simple underpants, and then it's up to Tammy to do the finishing touches.
Tammy greets me with a huge, warm hug, though careful not to touch any of my already good parts. She sits me down on a chair, while she goes back and grabs a big zipper gown, careful not to let any part of it peek out.
"Close your eyes," her make-up cannot mask her true emotion; giddiness. Of course, I just follow what she says, giving a tentative peek each second. When she catches me, she snaps a "No peeking!" at me, and I stop. I wait.
"Okay, one, two, and three…" I hear an un-zipping noise. "Open!" Tammy says happily, and I flicker open my eyes. The thing that I see is pure beauty, captivating, even. It just came out of the sea, its beautiful waves hanging down onto the floor but the dress is only knee-length, making noises of it crashing on the shore. On the waist line, it's not some cheesy scales waist band; it's an elaborate seaweed chain, mixed with a woven net hanging down the side. The bodice is coated up and down with seashells and the chest line is adorned with alternating sapphires and pearls, with a shawl of fishing nets, hanging down my arms. I gawk and rub my eyes, to prove this isn't all a dream.
"This is mine?" I look at her star studded face, while she gives a small nod. I smile on her behalf.
"Now let's get started with your make up." Then she wings me over to a mirror, slipping me into the strapless dress, its luscious waves touching the ground. She sits me down careful, not hurting the dress I'm wearing. I also take caution, because if I bump my arm into something, a bruise will appear in my arm, making it look like I have a make-up tragedy.
Tammy paints and tattoos my arms with ocean blue spirals, to represent some sort of water source making its way up my arms. She then gets some midnight blue eye shadow on my eye lids, making me look breath-taking. A blue green lipstick is coated on my lips.
"Perfection," Tammy blots her eyes carefully with her hands, delicately enough not to harm her make-up. I am ready.
When it's time to get on stage, we have to. I see Pine, in a very elaborate tree costume, as what the district 7 people have looked like for ages. Her head-dress is a thicket of pine needles, careful enough not to prickle her head. I look around and Willow's there too, her small figure blocked by a camera. I have to wait and see her costume.
"Welcome, welcome, tributes, to our interviews for tonight!" The host bellows, his sparkling green suit twinkling in the stage light. "I'm your host, Caesar, Flickerman!" He booms into the microphone, and the roar of the audience is deafening. He manages to calm them down.
He cracks up a few jokes and words to warm up the crowd, then introduce the girl tribute from district 1, her name being Topaz. She strides up to the single seater plush chair, and with that, shakes her hips from side to side in her provocative royal blue dress. Blue meaning richness, against the poorer districts, showing her superiority.
She has a full exchange on how she's excited to be a part in the games and win Caesar backs her up with, "Oh, with you being a career? Pfft, my best bet is you," and she walks way, trotting in her high heels.
The boy comes along with his brute strength, telling the audience that he will show it when he gets in the arena. One is done, two is up next.
The pair from district two is represent their training strategies, bragging about their spear and knife throwing skills, and how you could bet on them for winning it. They leave and district three is up.
The pair from three is quite stammer-prone, they're so fidgety. Both of them are jam-packed with questions that deliberately need answers. All the questions aren't answered by the time they're finished with it. Now I'm being called up.
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for this year's final career tribute, and girl tribute from district 4!" Caesar welcomes me happily.
I stand up, and flash a smile to the audience. I take a seat, and we start.
"So, Aralia, how do you like the Capitol so far?" Caesar asks me, scooting a tad bit closer to me. I give myself time to think.
"Well, for one thing, it was a big change," I say rapidly, "But I am impressed; the scenes, the lights, the people, and most of all, their fashion choice is rather funny." I don't know if I offended the crowd or not, but a few stray smiles and giggles come out of the crowd. Caesar takes time to think, and then he replies.
"You are right," He says quietly, looking down at his sparkled suit. "I do look like a cupcake!" He gives a puzzled look at the crowd, followed by a roar of replies like, "No!" or "Yes! Yes you do!" and they laugh, also. I give off a small giddy laugh.
"Let's talk training score. How did you feel when you got a higher mark than any of the other careers?" Caesar asks me almost confidentially. I give time to think, but I know the clock is ticking, so I let out what's in my mind.
"Well, somehow proud, I guess," I fumble with my words. "Getting a higher mark than people twice your age and size doesn't happen every day, so, I guess that was triumphant." I say, and a few stray bits of laughter clamber from the crowd's mouths. Caesar allows himself a chuckle.
"Beautiful dress you got there, can you show us a bit more?" He directs me to stand up, and I do. I almost fall backwards on my high heels, but I thank every power that I didn't. I stand up, almost shakily, afraid what to do next. "How about a spin?" Caesar invites me, and I do. We both stand up, me reaching his hand, and him doing the same thing, and he spins me around, producing a vast number of bubbles to fly into the air. I'm about to get dizzy when he stops.
"Beautiful, breath-taking, darling." He smiles. I smile back.
"And your skills, I reckon you've been training for a while now, eh?" He gives me a nudge.
Think. Think.
"Yeah, training," I sputter. "Weapons?" He asks me.
"Spear and self-woven nets," I say speedily, as I count the remaining seconds. One minute.
The crowd looks impressed, maybe on my choice of weapons? I don't know.
We continue on an exchange about my friends, and then it leads to my family. He asks me if I miss them. I tell him I sorely miss them, though they should not worry, because I'll try my hardest to win. Literally. Being sisterly is sort of easy.
We have a full exchange on if I drank freckle juice, considering the many freckles spurred on my face. I near my head to his colourful eyes and he counts them one by one. The audience bursts into a fit of laughter.
He gives me one final comment on my dress, then my buzzer rings.
"Whoops!" Caesar laughs as he counts the 17th freckle on my face. "That's all the time we had for Aralia Fallon, district 4! Any last words, darling?" He asks, focusing the microphone to my blue lips.
"And may the odds be ever in my favour!" I giggle into the microphone. The audience gives a round of applause and a roaring laugh.
Sweet, sisterly, funny, charismatic, talented? Is it enough to gain me sponsors? I'm hoping so.
I take a seat next to the fidgety district 3 boy and watch the rest.
Costello, district 5 and 6 act almost alike, nothing much to say, but are hiding something inside. I manage to think that the district 6 girl is being sly and quiet, maybe she'll kill cleanly and wordless. Maybe it'll be me.
When Pine steps in, she's wearing her tree and leafy slippers. Her exchange with Caesar was fully about her district and her axe chucking. Caesar praises her skills, for one so small to be able to chuck heavy weight axes. She curtly thanks them.
Willow joins in the fun with her cute hay dress, something that looks great on her. She has a straw hat on her head, and a warm smile painted on her lips.
When Caesar asked her what she loved to do, she told him that she loved climbing trees, which was unusual for a district 11 girl, =and staying up there with the breeze, or even writing small poems and songs. If she doesn't get caught, though.
Caesar compliments her sweet nature, and her knack for identifying poisonous and non-poisonous. She smiles shyly, and thanks him, telling him that her mother taught her about them.
She wings away; letting stray bits of hay trace her steps.
The pair from district twelve are quite quiet ones, dressed up in loose miner's wear, slathered with coal dust, up and down their arms and legs. It looks quite a bit grotesque, since their stylists have tried their best not to make them look so thin, but efforts are discarded. Their ribs are prominent, their eyes just slathered with black eye make- up to cover up their eye bags and their droopy eyes. Their exchange is quite boring, but they still managed to finish.
When the interviews are finished, everyone is a bit tired, and wanting to get to bed. Why? Because tomorrow morning, we'll not be waking up back in our own districts, but we are going to face the arena itself.