Authors Note: Okay, some people didn't give me outfits for this so I had to make some things up! (Or if you did, but there were issues with your form, I'm sorry). Remember, I don't have internet, so I didn't want to keep you guys waiting too long for this chapter. Thank you for all the reviews! It was a wonderful New Year's present! And hopefully you guys didn't think I was mad or anything- the reason I held the chapter was because I had posted three and gotten only a couple reviews for each. I figured people were busy with the Holidays and I didn't want everyone to come back and have to read four new chapters. Yet, again I thank everyone who reviewed… o.- your characters shall live long and prosper… really though, they will! I already know of quite a few that are going to make it all the way to the end! And I know these interviews are long, sorry about that, but I want everyone to have a better idea of what the tributes are like.

POVs in this chapter:

Everyone up to District Six

The Interviews: Part One

-Lorraine D1-

"How does it feel?" Lerida chews on the end of a makeup brush anxiously.

I nod, "Really nice, I mean I can move pretty well."

"Take a walk in it."

Standing up straight I put my shoulders back and spin and turn in the dress. It moves freely around my legs, but the bodice is almost so tight I can't breathe. I clutch at my stomach in pain; it hurts even worse now that I've moved my ribs.

"What is it?"

I shake my head, "Nothing," I wheeze out.

One of the members of my prep team gasps, "She can still inhale!"

They advance upon me as if they're getting ready to tighten the contraption and I back up, head low and teeth bared like a feral animal, "Don't. Touch. Me."

After a few minutes of arguing it's decided that everyone wants to keep their heads and I get to wear the dress the way I want to.

We make our way to the interviews and the whole while my prep team is touching up my make-up and rearranging strands of hair. I have large, diamond stud earrings in and an upper arm spiral bracelet on that's encrusted in green and white jewels. My outfit is heavier than a primitive knight of the round table getup. Although the fabric is soft and silky against my skin, the outer world would never know because the entire dress is concealed in jewels that are the same mossy green as my eyes. It's strapless, floor length, and the sweet heart neckline accentuates my 'shape'.

As we reach the backstage I begin to hear traces of the audience, and from peeking behind a curtain I can see that it's a full house; not one seat is left open. The people shuffle around and chat animatedly; suddenly I feel a presence behind me. I know who it is by the smell of that expensive, overdone cologne- Antherton. I turn to look and see that he's standing in a rather superior manner; my partner's hair is swept in an up-do kind of way and he's wearing a suit that mimics our District's mass production of precious gems. He notices me looking and smirks as if he caught me admiring him.

Snarling, I stick my nose in the air and hitch up my dress so I can get away faster, "In your dreams savage barbarian."

He then presumes to beat on his chest like Tarzan; I simply roll my eyes and amble on. They sit me down in a chair that's closest to the stage. Since I'm a female and from district One, I get to be the very first. This could be both beneficial, and undesirable. For one, if I can create a Halo Effect and overshadow my competition, then I'll be remembered. The latter would be that I could be forgotten by my viewers because there are twenty three tributes after me. I should be alright though; they say that the first and last tributes are the two that are most recalled.

My peers dart around anxiously as they begin to fill up the seats. We're lined up along a wall; each of us sitting next to our district partner. Antherton lumbers past me and plops himself down into his chair. He grins at me, flashing two gold front teeth.

My lip pulls up in disgust, "That's attractive." I turn my gaze away and pretend that I don't know him.

"I bet you think it is," He laughs; from the corner of my eye I see he's crossed his arms, "Honestly, I'm hurt that you haven't made me an offer of alliance yet."

This makes me smile; I twist around to face him, "Indeed. Maybe if you weren't such a boorish pig we would have invited you."

His eyes go wide and he places a hand over his heart, "Oh, is it a 'girls only' thing?"

I scowl, "Please, if it was a 'girls only' gig then you'd have no problem getting in."

I hear him growl just before the national anthem begins to play. We all stand respectfully; wait for it to sojourn, and then our new interviewer walks onto the stage. Everyone in the audience hops to their feet and roars in excitement. She's quite a sight, I must admit. Her hair is a light, cerulean blue, with darker blue low lights and creamy highlights. Her skin is tanned to the absolute max, and here's the big kicker- she has the largest fake tits in the whole world. She seems to take note of this fact because the otherwise tiny woman leaves everything hanging out. She's dressed in complete white clothing with hundreds of black bracelets donning her wrists and a pair of heavy, dangly, black earrings on.

"How's everybody doin' today, huh?" The crowd cheers in response to her question and she bows, "Thank you, thank you!"

She struts over to her seat and sits down in a way that suggests she's trying to be alluring. I grimace as she talks in that squeaky Capitolite voice, "My name is Cimmira and I'm your new host this year! What do you say we get this road on the show?"

Road on the show? I roll my eyes and look into the audience; all the people seem to be casting wary glances at each other.

"Now let's see, who would we like to hear from first?" I arch a brow at the ditzy boob lady while she 'pretends' to search for me, "Ah-ha! There you are!" She points a bony finger at me and beams, "Come on up Lorraine Lattanzi!"

Forcing myself not roll my eyes again, I rise gracefully from my seat and lift my chin high. I give a couple of waves to some families in the audience and blow a few kisses on my way up to the stage. The people clamor over each other to 'catch' my smooches and they shout in extreme excitement.

Once I'm seated across from Cimmira I cross my ankles and plaster on my best television smile.

She grins, "Well my, my, my! Don't you look stunning? I have to say if I weren't a girl I'd be all over you!" This earns me some wolf whistles and cat calls.

I smile sexily and lean back in my chair, "I can't help what I am."

"Indeed! So, tell me, anyone you want to talk about from back home?" She smirks slyly, "Any boys perhaps?"

I laugh, "Not any that are still alive!"

All the people in the audience laugh and clap at my retort, as does Cimmira herself. "Well said my dear! So how about that dress? It's absolutely gorgeous! You have to be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen!"

I shrug, "If my looks are anything like my fighting skills then I suppose I'd have to agree with you. Pretty top notch."

Her brows shoot up, "Oh really? Do you hear that people? This girl is a fighter! I've got my money on you babe!"

The audience cheers joyously, and I relish in their applause. Somewhere out there, I've got a sponsor edging me on.

-Antherton D1-

Lorraine leaves the spotlight after her three minutes are up and it's my turn. As I pass her going up the stage I think about smacking her ass, but decide against it. After all, I'm getting ready to be broadcasted on national television; I wouldn't want any scratches on my face.

Cimmira smiles at me like I'm a piece of meat and I give her a taste of her own medicine by providing her the weirdest predator grin I can muster. She doesn't seem to take it too well; in fact she scoots back in her chair a bit. I make myself comfortable in my seat across from her as she laughs and makes some stupid joke about me that no one seems to understand.

"My goodness you're a big boy! You must work out, yeah?"

I cock a brow at her, "Steroids don't hurt either."

She bursts into a fit of contagious laughter and all I can do is shake my head at her oblivious nature. She flutters a hand to her freakishly enormous and probably rock solid chest. There is no way in Hell those are real. "So I hear that you come from a long line of victors! Care to share a little personal info?"

"Well, my dad, brother, and grandfather are all victors, but if I were to name everyone in my family that has been a victor then they'd have to reschedule the upcoming Games, 'cause it would take a while!"

The audience screams with adoration and I nod and wave,

"So does that mean everyone else in the competition should probably just give up?"

I chuckle, "What do you think it means?"

"Right you are baby! You hear that Panem? Antherton Desby is the favorite in this race! He's got the pedigree to back it up!"

The crowd claps with enthusiasm, "By the way, that suit is dazzling on you! Literally! Do happen to be wearing your token somewhere?"

I roll up the cuff on my right arm and stick out my hand so they can see the jewel encrusted leather band around my wrist.

"Oh my! Well that's just dandy! Is it a family heirloom?"

I nod and try not to seem surprised that she was able to figure it out with a brain as small as what hers was bound to be, "My great, great grandmother's. It was given to her after she became victor."

"Aw, how nice. Tell me, how do you feel about that training score, a 9, I believe it was?"

My fists clench and I grind my teeth in anger, "Someone could go fetch that Avox that cleans up my room, he would know how I feel about it."

For a moment she's speechless, and then she stammers, "Uh, well… haha! Very humorous! You're a funny one!"

My eyes dart over to the side, and I contemplate my prior statement, "Wait… nevermind," I look at her with a slight smile on my face, "He's dead now. I guess he wouldn't know."

-Starr D2-

Oh my God, Antherton is nuts. At first I'd thought he was simply overly cocky, but now I realize that he is just insane.

I watch silently and pick at my red dress in anxiety. His interview is almost over; what if I mess up? What if I say the wrong things? Oh well, at least I look nice.

My stylist said that a long time ago the dress might have been similar to that of a Flapper's. I wasn't exactly ecstatic about wearing something that a person called a 'Flapper' might wear, but when I saw the dress it was love at first sight. It plunges down into a V cut and the top straps connect behind my neck leaving it backless. A red, silky ribbon is laced down my back through loop holes at the sides of my dress to keep it tight in the front. The hem stops about four inches past my feet and I'm left with a small train. There are thousands of strings threaded through maroon beads that cover the whole dress. I can sift my fingers through them like I would grass.

My hair is up in an elegant, braided knot- exposing the length of my throat. The cosmetics are kept on the down low; they're natural and meek, consisting of mascara, nude lip gloss, blush, and cat eye makeup.

Like I said, at least I look nice.

"Can Starr Delby please come up to the stage?"

I wince when I hear that woman's voice call my name, but I rise out of my chair and try to maneuver onto the stage without tripping. I make it to the chair minus any stumbling, and place myself in the seat.

"Oh, my gosh! You are an absolute blossom!" She reaches over to me and I resist the urge to jerk away as she pinches my knee, "Just had to make sure you were real!"

"Thank you." I smile invitingly and throw the audience a star worthy grin. They clap and seem to agree with Cimmira.

"Let's get down to it! I hear that you're the Mayor's daughter, and hailing from District Two I'd say that you've got quite a load on your shoulders. Must be hard on you, yeah?"

"Not at all; if anything it drives me. I come from a family that has never tasted anything but success. I just want to try out the sense of achievement in a new field."

She nods, "But you were reaped. Why not volunteer?"

I shift, "There were no real plans, but I had been preparing to volunteer when I turned eighteen. You know, that few extra years to mature mentally and physically. No matter though, I can't change any of it- and now that it has happened I couldn't be any prouder to serve my country. The Capitol is deserving of loyalty and I've always thought the Games should be fought with more enthusiasm. I'm here to bring all this and more to the plate."

She leans back in her chair, "Do you see?" She stretches out her hand towards me, "This is why so many people from District Two win. True determination, grit, and all out passion for the game. And loyalty no less! After you win you should consider following in your father's footsteps. I'm sure you'd make the greatest Mayor Panem has ever seen! Maybe even land a job in the Capitol with that attitude!"

The audience roars like I haven't heard yet, and some even get to their feet. That's got to be a minimum of ten sponsors, and a max of about thirty. I smile and blow a few kisses. Talk about brownie points.

"So tell me about life in general as the Mayor's child."

She's going to keep playing the Mayor bit, isn't she? "Well, really it's not anything unlike a normal kid's life. My dad has a job that he gets up for in the morning, and comes back from when he's done. A lot of people assume his occupation is demanding, but my whole family gets involved and it's actually truly interesting." I look towards a camera and wink, "Love ya, dad!"

"So, is it harder for you to get a date?"

I laugh, "I don't need a guy, I can take care of myself just fine."

She cracks a smile, "Well maybe there's someone out there who needs YOU to take care of THEM."

The crowd chuckles lightly and I shake my head, "Isn't that why we were talking about me becoming Mayor?"

The audience claps and cheers happily and I can't think of anything else to do but smile. Cimmira beams in delight, "Quite a charming young lady we have here! Wouldn't you say? So what do you think about your fellow tributes."

My breath hitches slightly. If I don't answer this question right, it could cost me. "I… I really have to say that it's the other way around. Not so much what I think of them, but what they do of me."

She arches a blue brow, "And what would that be?"

I cock my head to the side, "That I was born to lead, to achieve, and to fight. I'm already a Victor in ways most don't understand; competition is in my blood. It's simply habit for me to win, and like a lot of people know- habits are really hard to break, practically impossible actually."

-Zane D2-

This white bow tie is beginning to feel tight around my throat; I have to readjust it a number of times before I feel like I can breathe regularly again. I watch curiously as my district partner converses with Cimmira; she's brown nosing the Government. It's not uncommon for a tribute to 'admire' the audience or the Capitol as a whole, but to complement our leaders is something else in itself. I couldn't help but feel that Starr could be the deadliest of this year's Career group.

For one she's the most level headed of the group, for another she's the most manipulative. It wouldn't surprise me at all if Lorraine and that D5 girl met with death at the hands of Starr.

Pretty soon her three minutes are up and it's my turn to march across the stage and take a seat across from the ditzy, blue haired woman. When Starr struts past me I can hear her whisper, 'Good luck'. I don't say anything in return- she doesn't mean it anyway.

When I reach my chair, instead of sitting down, I walk over to Cimmira, take her hand, and give it a small kiss. Her tan face goes red as the audience springs to its feet and claps wildly. I laugh and take a seat in my chair. I look back to see that even some of my fellow tributes are clapping for my charming act.

Cimmira lifts a hand to her cheek and chuckles lightly, "Oh my. That was very nice of you young man, and might I add, I approve of the color of your tux. Your stylist is brilliant!"

Like the interviewer, my outfit is completely white, the exception being the soft green dress shirt beneath my jacket.

I grin, "I'm sure he appreciates that."

"So, they say you're called Wolf, I already know one reason as to why," She lifts the hand I kissed in the air and twirls it around smugly, making the majority of the crowd laugh, "Are there any other reasons?"

I shrug, "Can't really say; it's just what I've always been called. Since before I can remember people have called me that; I suppose it's a name to go with the face kind of deal. I do have pointy canines."

She hops up and down in her seat, "Show us!"

I pull up my lip and she leans in a little too far for my comfort so she can get a better look at them, "Oh, it's true! Does this mean you're an animal?" She asks like it's a naughty question.

I let my lip go and sit back a bit, "Uh, not exactly."

She puts an elbow on her knee and rests her chin in her hand, "Come on, spill it! Give us some details about your love life!"

I can't help but laugh at that one, "Not much to tell, quite bleak in fact."

Her eyes go wide, like she's hurt, "You mean there's no one back home waiting for you?"

I shrug, "Not anyone that I know of."

The audience seems to murmur and someone calls out, "I'll be here for you!" Everyone laughs and I wave at the lavender haired girl who confessed her 'love' for me.

Cimmira smiles, "Back off girls! This one is all mine!"

Uh, isn't there a name for adults who prey on children? I think it's Pedophile; obviously I don't say this to the Interviewer.

She leans on the arm of her seat, "So tell us something about you. What is something that you can do that you do really well that no one else knows about?"

I frown uncomfortably, "I… uh" What the Hell? I'm getting ready to go into the Games, so what if I tell them? I straighten myself up, "I can sing."

Her mouth drops open, "You lie!"

I shake my head, "Nope. I can sing better than a Canary."

She puts a hand to her chest and looks around in disbelief, "You have to sing something for us! Right now!"

I put up my hands, "Ha-ha, no way."

"Aw, come on!" She turns to the audience, "Don't you guys want to hear him sing?" They jump up and down and clap wildly; shouting so much at the same time that I can't catch one word of anything. Cimmira gets this pleading look in her eyes and sticks out her lower lip, "Please? Look, everyone wants you to do it!"

I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head, "I can't." Looking out at the audience I decide to provide a compromise, "Tell you what I'll do though- if someone out there wants to sponsor me that person can send me any song during the Games and I'll sing it then, okay?"

Cimmira smacks her hands together, "What a wonderful idea!" I incline my head and cross my legs, "She goes on, "So what is it that's going to drive you during the Games? What is your reason for winning?"

I pick at one of my white dress shoes thoughtfully, "I can't say that there is a lot for me to go back to if I win, but life is too precious to just throw away. No matter who you are or what. I don't believe in giving up. When my parents and sibling died, I could have just lied down on some tracks and let a train run over me, but I didn't. Even though living without them hurts worse than any physical injury I could ever hope to sustain, I know my family wouldn't want me trash everything. I have to live the life my sister never got to- and the life my parents couldn't finish… or at least I have to try."

Her eyes seem to glisten with actual sadness, "Well, I have to say Baby, all bets are on you."

I smile brightly, "If that's true then there's some money to be won."

She chuckles, and becomes all bubbly once more, "So if you win, what do you plan on doing when you return home?"

I grin, "As little as possible!"

-Claire D3-

"Claire De Leon, please come on up!"

I stand rather uncomfortably in the incredibly short, curve hugging, dark blue dress; I feel like it barely covers anything, but there are black tassels hanging off of it all the way around the bottom and they semi-cover about three more inches of my thighs and that makes me feel better. My shiny black hair is pulled up into a messy, but sexy, knot and strands of it have been pulled out to frame my face. I walk all the way across the stage in my three inch black heels, and flip some bangs out of my eyes. My stylist was right, even though I have said nothing yet, I already have the approval of most of the males in the audience. The cat calls seem to be limitless, and when I sit Cimmira has to ask everybody to quiet down so she can talk.

She turns to me dramatically, "Are you hearing what I'm hearing? Now that's what I call a standing ovation! And you haven't even done anything!"

I shrug, "Well, that's the first time that has ever happened to me, so I don't really know what to say."

Cimmira grins, "Trust me, it won't be the last. So tell us about your brother, he was a victor, yes? How is he?"

I recline in the chair and cross my legs, "That is correct. Rane is doing very well; it's because of him that my family lives the life we do now; I couldn't be more thankful for him."

"Did you ever feel any pressure to volunteer because of him?"

I purse my lips, "No, in fact, it's the opposite. He's very protective and gets worried about me easily. As you can probably tell by now, I'm not an exceedingly spectacular person in ordinary form."

She grins, "I'm guessing that means you have a couple of tricks up your sleeve?"

I grin, "Well, I'm lacking in sleeves at the moment, but when it comes time for the Games, I think everyone is going to get the chance to see what I'm truly capable of."

"So tell me, you're a beautiful girl; any love interests back home?"

I smile a little shyly; I could lie, but decide against it, "Not for me."

Her mouth drops open, "But why not? You're in the prime of your youth! Your skin is flawless, you hair is shiny and manageable, and you're gorgeous! It should be a crime to keep that beauty under lock and key!"

The audience claps and I just laugh, "I don't think so, things like that don't matter to me. I'm a very practical girl; what I don't need, I don't have." I get some sounds of disappointment from the guy part of the crowd.

She throws her hands up, "We've got another one folks! Yet another girl who doesn't need male companionship! What's the world coming to?"

I smile exasperatedly, "It just goes to show that I won't need as much as others in the arena." I direct the next part of my statement toward the female Careers, "I don't need anyone else to help me out in a fight, and I don't need someone to cry on when stuff doesn't go the way I want it to. I'm a realist, I see things the way they are and I don't waste any time groveling over any particular situation."

Her brows curve in curiosity, "So you don't plan on making an alliance with anyone?"

I place my hands on my knees and knit my fingers together, "I can't really say anything about that yet. Like I said, whatever happens- happens."

"Okay, so enough about everybody else, what about you? How are you enjoying the Capitol?"

The corners of my mouth pull up, "It's unlike anything I've ever seen- in my dreams or in the real world. The people are what make it interesting though, everyone is so unique and a little bit wild, but I guess that's what separates them from us; they're willing to try things that would intimidate us. And the architecture is breathtaking; I can't express how grateful I am that I got to see it at least once."

The audience whoops and hollers; although it sickens me to say these things, there's no way I can get away from here with sponsors if I don't brag on them.

"So what about your fellow tributes- have anything you want to say about them?"

I smirk, "Nothing that wouldn't make me a target."

The audience seems to gasp at my combative comment, like I just made this a personal challenge. Cimmira giggles, "I like your spirit! But come on! Give us something tastier! Just do this for me, take a look at your peers and tell me you don't see one boy that grabs your attention."

I feel a flush creeping up my neck and spilling into my cheeks,

"Oh," She does this shimmy thing with her shoulders and tucks her chin, "is there someone you're thinking of right now?"

A little too quickly I jump to defend myself, "No!"

She winks, "Riiiiggght. Okay, I'll leave the topic alone. Let's talk about something else, say you win the Games, what does an ambitious girl like you plan on doing with all that dough?"

My brows furrow, "I haven't really thought about that yet. I've always wanted a vintage sports car."

She laughs, "A car? Isn't that a guy's dream?"

I grin, "Say what you like, but Chevilles are sexy as Hell!"

I'm rewarded with loud shouts of approval, clapping and more whistles.

"So you're into cars, huh?"

I nod, and start to feel pretty passionate about the subject, "I would build the engine myself, do the paint job, design the interior." I point my finger at her, "And it would be jet black and have the absolute best sound system in it of any car on the planet."

For a moment the audience is completely silent, then I hear this, "Holy shit... that's hot," and the people errupt in applause and laughter.

-Newton D3-

I think Claire's done the best so far; maybe it's because she's my district partner. She definetly knows how to work the male part of the audience, even i'm intriuged by her hobbies and personality. What she realizes, which most girls don't, is that very few guys out there truly want the platinum blonde, head cheerleader, makeup clad pagent girl. When you're that attractive just being yourself you've got some power. I know she won't go into that arena without sponsors- sure, they'll all be dudes, but I doubt gender matters much to anyone when it comes to sponsorship.

As we pass each other walking across the stage, I give her a small smile. Her face becomes contorted with some kind of emotion, and I don't have to ask to know what she's thinking. Claire has become more withdrawn since the reapings; I saw a little bit of her softer side right before the chariot race, but that was the last and only time.

I feel my face heat in embarassment; just thinking about her makes me blush. This is one of those times that I'm thankful no one can read my mind.

I sit myself down across from the interviewer in the big, cushioned chair,

"How are you doing, sweet pea?"

I straighten my posture and fold my hands, "Rather well, actually."

She grins, "I hope I'm not sounding rude, but I just can't understand how such a... docile looking creature like yourself got such a high training score."

Although my stylist forced me to wear contacts for the interview, I have the strangest urge to push some invisible glasses up my nose, "Well, I can not talk about the experience. I am fairly certain it's classified."

Her brows arch, "Yes, it is, but you can tell us a little bit about yourself. Do you have some type of hidden superpower?"

I smile, "Does highly advanced brain power count?"

She cackles, "Of course!" She crosses her legs and leans back in her chair, "I understand that you have an extrodinary IQ."

I nod, "I graduated school four years ago, and at the top of my class."

Her mouth drops, "But you're only seventeen!"

I shrug, "I skipped two grades and did extra school work in my free time so I could finish up sooner."

She puts a fist on her hip, "You're telling me! How does that affect your love life?"

"I don't have one."

She giggles, "Seems to be everyone's story tonight."

"I suppose so."

She clears her throat, "Tell me about your family, what are your parents like?"

"They're very kind people; my mother has a very quiet nature about her and my dad is brilliant."

"He works for the CBI, yes?"

My head bobs up and down, "It's a demanding job, but I get to help him with invetions, so it's pretty fun too."

Cimmira's mouth twists, "So is there anything that you've seen in the Capitol that was made by you or your dad?"

"Quite a few things actually. The peacekeepers around here are equipped with brand new tasers that my father drew the plans for. They're cheaper because of the material. Most would think that's dangerous because of the heat the weapon produces when it's fired, but my dad found ways around the issue."

She smiles, "That's neat! Is he your inspiration- your role model?"

"Yep. I haven't met one other person in the whole world that has made such an impression on me; he's everything that I want to be when I grow up."

Her brow creases, "So are you going to follow in his footsteps? As far as an occupation goes, I mean?"

"It's more than likely, I can't see myself doing anything else."

"Well I think it's wonderful that your urge to make such a large push in the scientific feild is so strong. You seem like a very bright young man."

I smile and she continues to ask me more questions about my life and myself. Most of them I only hear half of, and I end up stumbling over my words. I probably sound kind of nerdy, but that's what I want. If I can just land a place among some Careers then it would more than double my chances of survival. When it's time for me to leave my seat, I feel out of breath and my hands are shaking. The torment of having to sit in front of that audience hit me full force. I hadn't felt nervous because I was so shocked by the large crowd; now my thoughts ran loose in my head- they battered at my brain: Did you say the wrong things? Did you give the wrong look? Does anyone out there want to sponsor you? Will you live long enough to see your parents again? Will you live long enough to make it past the first ten minutes of the Games?

-Hazel D4-

My sparkly teal dress clings to my body tightly; the material has a scratchy feeling about it- but as my stylist says, beauty is pain. I shift uncomfortably in my atire and think about the angle I should take. All the girls so far have appeared sexy, humerous, or confident; I suppose I could always take on the mysterious, quiet, girl next door act. I've never been extremely outgoing to begin with. Sure, I have friends back home, but I'm by no means the prom queen of my school. Then again, 'quiet' isn't the true me. When I was with Gia I could be my wild and emotional self.

Absently I lift a hand to my neck and play with the silver necklace around my throat. I twist the cool, thin chain around my fingers while biting the insides of my cheeks contemplatively. Glancing over at Ray I see that he is as stoic as ever. In the few days I've known him it's come to my knowledge that my district partner is a guy of few words. I suppose that's a good thing though, I don't want to be friends with someone that might kill me... or that I could kill.

He senses my gaze and before I can look away I catch sight of a fleeting smile grace his lips. The action is so quick I have a hard time telling whether or not it really happened.

I look back up at the stage and see that Newton is wrapping up his interview. Cimmira shakes his hand with a broad smile on her face and watches him exit the spotlight. Instinctively I flinch when I hear her call my name. Lately people shouting my name has become something of a bother.

I rise out of my seat steadily and allow a slow flush to creep up into my face. Pressing my lips together I stride over to Cimmira in my high heels and grin modestly. A couple people whistle and quite a few clap. Giving a tiny wave to the crowd I take a seat in the chair opposite of the interviewer. It's then that I'm struck by the size of her chest. I don't mean to stare in the first place, but come on. Awkwardly I turn my attention toward the audience and try to preoccupy myself by providing my most sincere smiles to the cameras.

"So, Hazel Cresta, let's start off with a little bit about yourself. Give us an idea of who you are; what do you like to do in your spare time?"

I turn the corners of my mouth up slightly and urge my eyes to glitter with the sheen of unshed tears. My stylist told me that if I could make my eyes water and then blink a couple of times 'it would bring out the sparkle in my own two baby blues'.

My answer is immediate, "I'd have to say spending time with my friend Gia. She's my rock."

"Gia Lindor?" She arches her brows, "That is the girl who was originally reaped, yes?"

"Yes."

"Why did you volunteer for her?"

My fingers twitch involuntarily in my lap. I don't want to tell her things that are personal, I don't want the Capitol to know everything about me. I feel like just sitting here is a violation against me. Pushing a lock of loose hair behind my ear I continue the shirade, "Well, she's very ill. She has a form of cancer that if allowed to spread could..." I search for the right words, "Well, it could hurt her pretty bad. Anyway, when my escort called her name, it was like the entire world stopped turning. All the people in it faded into the background, it was just her and me, you know? I couldn't let her go into the games like that. Her whole life has been filled with nothing but catscans and MRIs; she's been fighting since she was diagnosed at age ten. I think... during this year's reaping- someone was telling me that it was my turn to battle for her survival."

The audience erupted into a almost painful bout of applause, even Cimmira began clapping. Leaning forward she gave my kneecap a small squeeze, "You've got a brave heart, Hun."

I shook my head, "I don't think so. Gia's the one that's brave, she's always been fearless. For as physically damaging as her condition is, I don't have even half her spirit."

"So modest." She leaned back in exasperation. "You obviously don't know yourself very well. Look at the facts: You volunteered for the Hunger Games, you got an eight in the Gamemaker Session, and your here all dolled up and ready to go! Don't sit there and try to convince me you haven't got spirit."

The audience yelled in approval and I just kind of smiled. I didn't feel courageous right now, "Okay, I won't argue with you about it."

She laughs, "That's more like it! Besides, winning runs in the family!"

I feel my breath hitch when she makes the reference to my late aunt. "Yep."

"Annie. You look just like her you know; are there any more similarities the audience should know about?"

I want to leap up and smack her across the face! How dare she insinuate that I would fall into a bloodlust like state and go on a wild rampage killing people! I try to keep from spitting my next words, "No- there are not."

She seems to back off a bit, and it's then I realize my fists are clenched and my shoulders are hunched. Letting my body relax into the chair I chuckle lightly, "My aunt was one of the most notorious victors ever to win the Games. My victory won't be nearly as... jaw dropping as hers was."

Cimmira smiles doubtfully, "I see, but you plan on winning, yes?"

I cock my head to the side, "Of course I do. Don't get me wrong, I have faults, but I'm the kind of person that takes weaknesses and turns them into the rival skills of another's strengths."

"Bold words."

I shrug a little, "Perhaps, but the truth usually is bold."

"So tell us a little interesting fact about yourself; something few people know."

My brows knit in concentration, "I don't partake in my Districts usually activities."

"What do you mean?"

I smile, "I've never once tried to catch a fish."

She laughs, "I can't say that I blame you! It sounds disgusting!" Cimmira wrinkles her nose in distaste and I can't disagree with her opinion.

"I don't like the smell, I just like to eat them."

The blue haired wench giggles, "The feeling is mutual!"

"Is there anything you'd like to say to the folks back home before your time is up?"

My heart skips a beat at those words. Before my time is up... does she not realize the impact that question has on me? My mouth works, but I can't speak. What do I tell them? That I love them? No, that's too... final.

Rubbing my forehead lightly I look into a camera lense, "Don't worry about me, I've got everything under control. And Gia- I'll be seeing you soon."

She asks me a couple of unneccesary questions to wrap up the interview.

They usher me off the stage and I give a few waves to the audience as I exit the platform. Ray rises stoicly out of his seat and as we pass each other I make an effort to ignore him. I can't try to be friendly with anyone now.

-Ray D4-

My legs are unsteady; strange, you would think that since I practically live on my dad's boat I'd have incomparable balance. My journey to the torture chair seems to take a million years. I want to jog a little to get there; I feel like this slow pace is making me look foolish. Girls begin to wail in approval- their reaction to me makes my face flush. I force myself to look at them and wave. They leap up and start to shout "I love you, Ray!"

These confessions confound me. Why would they like me? I haven't even done anything yet. At this point I realize what's happening- I've become a boy toy. Great. I don't want to be a boy toy! Absently, I rake my fingers through my hair. This causes the gel to seperate the carefully styled locks. Quickly I jerk my hand away; I swear I can hear my stylist screaming in frustration. Needless to say I keep my gaze from wondering too much, I wouldn't want to make eye contact with the prep team.

They dressed me up to look like, and I quote, 'A sexy sailor'. I have on a soft, long-sleeved, buttond down; it's white and the material is made of cotton. It's open at the neck and exposes a tiny bit of my chest. My instincts tell me to do up those top few buttons- I must resist. My pants are a simple brown color and tucked into a pair of boots.

When I reach Cimmara, I shake her hand and smile broadly. She takes a little too kindly to my offer of politness. My skin crawls at the sight of her 'Gearing up'. Hastily, I sit in my chair across from her. The audience is still cheering like mad, and I smile- not knowing what else to do.

"Listen to those girls! What do you think it is about you that has them so worked up?"

I shrug, "I can't say."

A young lady with maroon colored hair stands up and puts her hands around her mouth so her voice is amplified in my direction, "Bullshit! You're sexy as Hell!" The female part of the audience backs her with a huge bout of applause and whistles.

I chuckle uncomfortably and feel my cheeks heat, "Thanks?"

"Anytime!" She shouted.

The pretty girl sat back down and stuck her nose in the air, as if she was proud of herself.

"There's your answer!" Cimmara giggles and leans forward to squeeze my bicep, "Where do you get muscles like those? Do you work out?"

My flush deepens, "Not exactly. I just work."

This earns me a few laughs. "What do you do for a living?"

I can't help but smile at that question; what does every boy my age do in district four? "I fish on my dad's boat."

She grins, "Oh! So you're not even in a costume! You're the real deal! A perfectly tanned, true sailor!"

I laugh, "I can't say that I would even want to be a real sailor. They've got dirty mouths."

She cocks a delicate brow, "So you are a gentleman then?"

"I hope so."

The blue haired female chuckles, "You are- whether you like it or not. I imagine that you got that side of you from your father?"

My heart beat stutters at the mention of my dad; I open my mouth to speak, but find it hard to come up with words- or at least anything that might sound coherent, "Uh, yeah. Any good trait in me is because of him."

"Aw, I'm sensing a deep connection to him. What about your mom."

I shook my head, "She's dead. She passed away while giving birth to me."

Her lips turn down and her gaze takes on a softer appearance, "I'm truly sorry about that. I'm sure that she would be proud of your strength though."

I laugh lightly, "I don't know, there are times where I think I can do better. But, it's not about me."

"Oh, but I think it is. You are a tribute in the Hunger Games. Most say they're drawn to you because you're like another Finnik."

I reel back slightly, "... They do?"

She throws her hands up, "Of course they do! Haven't you heard?"

My eyes dart over to the audience, "Not really."

"Hm, well that's strange. Anyways, yes- you're practically the spitting image of Finnik, a past victor. Which must do well for your romantic life, riiiight?"

I rub the back of my neck awkwardly, "I guees so."

"You guess so? Don't you have a whole slew of girlfriends back home?"

Briefly I recall the day of the reaping; that little girl that had asked me to wait for her to grow up so we could date. I laugh at the memory and this gets me an odd look from Cimmara.

"What?" She asks, brimming with curiosity.

I laugh again, "Oh, nothing. So far I can think of only one girl that has ever asked me to go out with her."

Cimmara claps excitedly, "Oh! Is she pretty?"

I grin, "Adorable. I have a feeling she'd be very upset if I didn't mention her. Hey Teal!" I give a small wave to the cameras. I'm sure that the twelve year old girl is watching and I can almost see her squealing with delight. She's the kind that will run to school the next day and tell everyone about being mentioned on television.

The interview concludes with her bombarding me with the most awkward questions known to man. When I leave my chair to return back to my fellow tributes I can't help but think about my dad. What's he doing right now? Did he watch my interview? I hope not. I don't want the last time he sees me before the Games to be an act.

-Moniqu D5-

The dress I'm wearing sparkles horrendously. Although I approve of the colors- red and black- I can't wait to take it off. Why do we even have to do this shit? Can't we just get it over with and start the Games already? I just want to fight, not act like a celebrity. My fingers itch to wrap around a throat and squeeze.

My sickly partner coughs into his fist. I glare at him with contempt. What a bloodbath. He was sooo going to die. I positively loathe weak people.

Timothy must sense my staring, because he turns his head to look back at me pointedly. You know, if he wasn't so uncaring about this, he might do well in the Games. I could just kind of tell that he might have been popular at one time, maybe even a bit toned. Quickly I turn my eyes away and watch the interview between D4 boy and Cimmara finish up. I think his name is Jay or Ray or something like that. I don't know, I haven't really paid much attention.

He takes his seat alongside the other tributes and I cross the stage with as much poise as I can stand. Once I've sat down across from Cimmara, a wave of nausia washes over me. I bring a hand up to block a particular area of her from my vision- GOD her boobs are grotesque! She could literally knock someone out with those hooters.

A smirk plays upon her lips, like she thinks it's funny or something.

"Nice to meet you, Monique!"

She stretches out a hand and I shake it firmly, keeping my mouth closed so I don't say anything stupid.

"So, I hear you're quite the little devil. First that stunt with the Chariots, and then that training score!" She fans herself dramatically.

I narrow my eyebrows at her, "Devil yes, little... well I guess that's just a technicality."

She grins nervously, "So what was going through your head during the Chariot race? Were you afraid? How did you come up with that idea? It's never been done!"

Lifting my chin ever so slightly, I fold my hands together in my lap and begin to explain, "It was all instinct mostly. I knew that if I wanted to stand out I would have to do something absolutely jaw dropping. The horse was right there, the oppurtunity was right there, so I took the chance before I lost my nerve. I'm a very spur of the moment kind of person. As to how I felt about it..." My pupils dialate at the sudden rush I feel from recollecting that day, "I've never done anything so thrilling. I loved every minute of it. I can't wait to do more things like that in the Games."

She smiled evily, "Glad to hear were going to get a show. So tell us about life back home, any love interests you left behind? Or simply someone that you care about?"

I scoff, "That's absurd. Of course not."

Her eyes dart over to the camera's real quick and then back to me, "Okaaay, what about your family? Don't you miss anyone from your family? Or friends?"

My answer is abrupt and without hesitation, "There was no challenge in my prior life. Nothing was exciting, and I was surrounded by weaklings. My parents are rich, so it's not like I ever lacked anything, but there was something missing. And friends? No, I don't miss my friends. I doubt that they are sad I'm here, so why stress myself about them?"

The Boob Lady works her jaw in thought, "So why did you volunteer? If not for, family or friends, then why?"

Inhaling deeply, I lean back and take a look at the audience, "Like I said before, I was surrounded by weak people. The kind that you would not only let you step on them, but the kind that would ask for it. I want to prove to Panem that there is at least one person in D5 that can play the Games without an IQ over 150. As a plus, I'm an adrenaline junkie. I like the rush, the thrill, the competition. I want people to know my name."

Cimmara laughs, "Oh, Honey, they know your name- trust me!"

I arch my brows, "Indeed. You see, in many ways, I've already won. People will remember me no matter what. Not just because of the Chariot stunt, but for reasons that this nation has yet to see. I garuntee you that I will make these Games the most memorable yet. Win or lose, it'll be fun, I promise."

She scoots back in her seat, "That sounds wonderful, Dear."

-Timothy D5 *Bloodbath*-

I don't make any attempt to appear strong, or funny, or charasmatic in any way. I sit down across from Cimmara and answer every question truthfully. She asks silly stuff in my opinion. Who cares about what food I like? Who cares who my friends are (or in my case, who they used to be)? When she inquires about my disease, I retort without emotion. It has eaten me. Everything I am. Everything I was.

I'm here to win a different kind of Game. Only one other person know about it, my brother. As I'm exiting the spotlight, it occurs to me that I should say something to him. Breathing in deeply- I march over to a camera guy. I look right in the lense, and allow a soft kind of calmness wash over me. I pretend the camera is my little brother; it might as well be, I know he's watching.

"I'm so sorry, Gabe. I wish I could change things." I run a hand through my thinning hair, "I want so badly to have what we used to." My voice drops to a whisper, "Please forgive me... I love you, bro."

-Maia D6-

"What a beautiful dress! You look magical!"

The floaty gold dress hugs my curves perfectly, and varying layers of pinks and greens go all the way down to the floor to cover my gold pumps. I smile at Cimarra scincerely, "Thank you. My stylist did a fantastic job. So it's all thanks to him."

"I don't know, you kind of tie it all together! And that hair! Is that your natural shade?"

I twist a firery red curl around one of my fingers, "Yes, it's the only thing really unique about me."

"It's gorgeous! You are so lucky- most people spend hundreds of dollars for color like that! So tell me, how did you feel when you were reaped?"

My forehead wrinkled in thought, "Actually, I was surprisingly okay." I let out a small laugh, "I don't know why, or what happened. I just kind of took it with a grain of salt, you know?"

"I could imagine that's probably the best way. Tell me about your family. Who's back home?"

Crossing my legs, I get myself comfortable and begin to tell her about my parents and younger sibiling, "Well, first off, my dad is dead. He was killed when I was thirteen."

Cimmara pouts, "I'm sorry to hear that." You wouldn't be if you knew that it was a Peacekeeper that killed him, I think blandly.

"Not as sorry as I am. Anyway, my mom is someone to talk about. She's a one of a kind role model. She's a big believer in allowing my brother and I personal freedom. I mean, she's firm, but fair. She taught me where the line between sticking up for myself and becoming a bully is drawn. I'm not going to say that she's the best mom in the world, but she's the only one I would ever want."

Tilting her head to the side, the interviewer smiles fondly, "How sweet. What about your brother?"

Grinning happily, I take a look at the camera's, "He's the biggest sweet heart in the world. I wish he could do this interview for me," I glance back at Cimmara, "He's a thousand times better with words than I could ever dream to be."

Cimmara laughs, "No, you're doing fabulous. So tell me, any guys you left behind?"

I laugh bitterly, "No. I have too many beautiful friends to have a boyfriend. No one ever sees me when I'm with them."

The audience makes sounds that suggest they disagree with me. I hate that I almost feel happy about that. I couldn't care less about what these people think.

"What? With that hair?" She flings her hand dismissivally, "Girl, you could have the face of an ogre and still rock the Catwalk. It's all in the hair! You just have to learn how to work it."

I shrug, "I might give that a shot when I get back home." Everyone today has said something about going back home, the difference between me and them is I didn't say it because I thought it would get me more sponsors, I said it because I meant it.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

I almost snort; isn't that what she's been doing this whole time? Instead of saying anything like that, I simply nod. It must be pretty personal if she thinks she has to ask permission.

"How did you get that limp? And that... eye problem?"

My mouth almost falls open. I can't beleive she asked so boldly! Sure, people stare, and they call me names, but that don't ask like that! They know it really hurts me to remember it.

I squeeze my upper arm fearfully, "Um, I had an accident. I wasn't watching where I was going when I was crossing the street and a... a motorcycle hit me."

Cimmara's eyes pop open, "A motorcycle?"

I nod, "Yeah. The rider had just turned the corner- he didn't see me. But, the eye, that's not from the accident, I was born with this."

She seems to be distracted by my lazy eye for a moment, then looks away quickly. "I'm truly sorry about that. It doesn't impair your skills does it?"

I grin, "You guys will have to wait and see."

- Erik D6-

Glancing sideways, I adjust my tie. It's like a choke collar around my throat; the more tug a it- the tighter it becomes. Swallowing loudly, I get an unusual look from the D7 girl. Then she smiles, "Are you nervous?"

I'm almost too stunned to say anything; my mouth drops open and closes, "Uh, yeah, a little bit."

She chuckles, "Don't worry. I'm not trying to get a read on you or anything like that. I'm just bored, so I thought I'd ask." She looks at me and grins, "Besides, who knows- this could be the last normal conversation either of us will ever have."

I never considered that, "I suppose so. What's your name?"

"D7 Girl." I draw back a little, maybe I was being to personal or something. Her eyes widen some, "It was a joke. My name is Pheobe. What's your's?"

"Erik."

Pheobe holds out a pale, delicate hand, "Nice to meet you."

Eyeing her doubtfully, I reach towards her to shake hands. Her grip is firm and stronger than I expected. Quickly she pulls away and returns her attention to the interview, "Makes you feel alone doesn't it?"

My forehead wrinkles in thought, "Yeah, I also feel like I'm a hundred years old. I mean- I'm not saying that my bones hurt, but I definetly feel like I could lay down and sleep forever."

She nods and that ends our conversation.

Finally, my name is called and I make my way over to the interviewer. I sit myself down across from her and get comfortable. I have a feeling that this is going to take a while.

"Well, we're almost half way through the tributes! How does it feel to be right smack dab in the middle?" Cimmara's grin stretches a little too widely across her face.

"Let's just say I've had plenty of time to sit down and stress over this."

She cocks her head to the side, "Sorry. You have nothing to worry about though, you're absolutely adorable! You're practically too cute to be real!"

My cheeks take on a rosy color and I do my best to look 'unsheepish', "Thanks."

"You're very welcome you young thing! Now let's get past the formalities- how are you enjoying your time in the Capitol?"

I glance out at all the people sitting in the audience. Man, I could think of some things to say. How about, I HATE IT! I want to go home! This is barbaric! Instead I settle for something slightly less combative, "It's incredible. If the guy who wrote the dictionary had seen this place before he started it, there would be about a thousand more words to learn. There's nothing that can compare- and that's the truth!"

The crowd appauds my statement and I resituate myself in my seat.

"Such kind words! You look like a nice boy though." Her eyes dance, "I bet it helps you get the girls, huh?"

I rub the back of my neck, "Maybe one or two. I know my good looks aren't doing it!"

She smacks my arm with her notes, "Don't talk like that! Besides, it's about what's on the inside."

I pat my stomach, "You don't have to tell me that!"

The audiecne laughs some and I smile at the cameras like I'm enjoying myself,

"You're so easy going! Is this the type of demeanor we should expect to see during the Games?"

My expression becomes more serious, "I'm sorry to say, but no. I'm not going to be cruel, but I'm not going to let anyone walk all over me. I'm plan on being as fair as possible."

Her attitude sobers, "That's good to hear. I have to say that my favorite tributes are the noble ones. They're the ones that win no matter what happens to them." She shakes her head and becomes cheery once again, "Speaking of- what do you think of your fellow tributes? Quite the bunch aren't they?"

I laugh, "All I can say is that I won't underestimate any of them."

"That's good to hear. What should they be thinking of you?"

My thoughts are erratic as I try to conjure up some brilliant thing to say, "Uh, that I'm full of surprises."

"Nice to know. I'll be rooting you on! Anyone back home that's on your side?"

Automatically, I think of my best friend and my brother, "Definetly. They'll be the first people I see when I get back home."

Authors Note:

MY MICROSOFT WORD STOPPED WORKING! So sorry about spelling errors and grammar mistakes!

I swear I haven't given up on this story or anything! With school, computer problems, college applications, and other such wonderful things- I haven't been able to get much done. I've been writing little bits for this chapter on and off throughout the month. Thank you for keeping up with this story, though! Here's a trivia question for you guys! If you can get the answer right (put it in a review) I'll give you 5 points!

Trivia Question:

There is a book that recently came out that is a callaboration of writers/authors/critics discussing the subject material of the Hunger Games series. What is the name of this book? (Clue: I actually put the name of the book in one of my latest chapters)