A/N: Here are the next eight tributes! Not much to say about this one, but please review if you have anything to say. Stay tuned for future updates :D

But if by chance you're here alone,

Can I have a moment before I go?

'Cause I've been by myself all night long

Hoping you're someone I used to know.

Sycamora Bromley, 44

District 7 Resident and Victor of the 85th Hunger Games

"Let's give a warm welcome to District 5's Gwyneth Lennaise!"

A girl in a light blue dress, definitely more pale than the previous eight, shuffles into the spotlight, struggling to keep balance in her heels.

"So, Gwyneth, how do you like the Capitol?"

"It's cool." She shrugs. "Though I don't really get what's with all the weird hairdos."

Phoenix laughs, shrugging a little. "Guess crazy hair isn't that popular in District 5."

"Oh, it's not," Gwyneth says, "But it looks nice on you."

"Why, thanks, love. What are some other big changes from life back home?"

"There are more windows." Gwyneth doesn't say any more.

"Really? That's what has you the most shocked?" Phoenix dramatizes his response, sounding taken aback.

"Well, we spend most of the time here inside," Gwyneth explains, shrugging. "Life in 5 was pretty similar, what with factories and the like. But there were never any windows. It's a nice change."

Gwyneth takes on a relatively casual role that plays well enough with the audience. "How well prepared are you for the games, Gwyneth?"

"I got ranked tenth," the girl responds. "And I scored a seven. That's got to mean something. I mean, I think I've got what it takes to make it far."

"It's nice to see you've got faith in yourself."

"Thank you."

The buzzer sounds, and the girl departs with a single spin of her blue dress.

"Next up is Newton Zhang, also from District 5!"

Newton enters wearing a black tux, his straight black hair slicked back. He shakes Phoenix's hand before sitting down.

"Sir, you're looking very sharp today," Phoenix marvels.

"Thank you. You're looking good yourself. Great fashion sense."

"Now, let's not make this all about me," Phoenix says. "It's your time to shine. Let's start at the beginning. How did you feel when you were reaped?"

"I think I kept my cool pretty well. I felt nervous, of course. But I felt ready."

It's a relief he didn't say I was glad I didn't have to go to school on Monday. Some tribute says that every year. It's the most overused line in tribute interviews.

"Ready? How so?"

"I was in the right mindset. Dressed to impress. I felt as confident as I could have felt." Every answer the boy gives is extremely articulate. He never stumbles over his words. He definitely has a gift for public speaking.

"It's great that you're confident, Newton," Phoenix says.

"Call me Newt," the boy interrupts, too lightly to be considered rude.

"Newt," he revises, "This week of preparation is all about getting ready. But feeling ready can be more important than anything else. What else have you done here to get ready?"

"The training center was key," he answers. "Getting in a little bit of everything is always a good idea. Getting through my interview was the next big step. And here we are."

"Well, I'll say you've pulled it off mighty well."

The buzzer rings. They shake hands again before Newt leaves. The boy is extremely professional and proper. A gentlemen who feels ready for anything.

"Next out: Suzuki Nox, District 6!"

The District 6 stylists went with the star theme again. Her black dress seems to float around her thin frame. The black material is dotted with pinpoints of light. Stars for navigation, for not losing sight of one's way. It's memorable and always plays well with the audience.

Suzuki offers a rather timid smile to the cameras and then sits down. Her feet barely touch the ground. Unlike the young men and women she'll be up against, Suzuki is just a little girl.

"My, don't you look special," Phoenix comments, taking in the way she sits delicately.

"Thank you. It's very… soft." She's truly a child.

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm alright." She pauses for a long time. "The buildings here are very big."

Phoenix smiles, trying to encourage her. "Well, congratulations on keeping your head up this long. That isn't easy, I know."

She whispers a modest "thanks".

"Speculations on the arena? Predictions?"

Suzuki stares down at her lap. "I wouldn't know where to begin to guess."

"Hopes, then?"

"I want a forest. Lots of places to… disappear."

The two sit in silence for several seconds. Phoenix makes a speedy recovery. "Are you good at hiding, Suzuki?"

The girl perks up at the sound of her name. It has her more engaged. "Yeah. They can't kill me if they can't find me."

"And they're not going to find you?"

She shakes her head. Her voice is now quieter than ever, barely higher than a whisper. "No. They're not."

The buzzer sounds. Suzuki leaves without another word.

"Give a warm welcome to Rocky Morgan from District 6!"

Rocky enters wearing a white silk shirt and black pants. He runs his fingers through his hair as he takes a seat, appearing both relaxed and ready.

"How are you doing?" Phoenix asks, seemingly unsure how to approach this interview just yet.

"I'm doing well. The interviews are my personal favorite part of the pre-games festivities."

Phoenix raises and eyebrow. "Why? Because you're on T.V?"

"Something like that."

While it's hard to describe Rocky's presence as menacing, he certainly has a power for keeping the audience quiet. He comes off as mysterious rather than vague.

"How's your family holding up back home, you think?" Phoenix asks.

Rocky jumps suddenly, looking like he's been struck. He takes a deep breath. "Just fine, I'd guess."

"Can you tell us about them?"

"Mom and Dad. And Ke."

"Ke? He your brother?"

"Yeah. He's younger than me."

Rocky spaces his words apart to let everything sink in. He makes it obvious how deliberate he is, which is smart. Certain things are shining: the things that he wants to shine. He feels in control of things. He must feel prepared.

"Tell us about yourself, Rocky," Phoenix says. "What are your strengths?"

"I'm very protective."

"Well, you've got some lucky allies then."

"If I have your back, I'll do anything to keep you safe."

He doesn't say anything else. The buzzer sounds, and he saunters off stage while the next tribute enters.

"Next up is Trixana Faust from District 7!"

Trixana wears a light green skirt with blue heels. It's a cute outfit, and Trixana seems to like it.

"Trixana Faust! Please have a seat!" Phoenix motions to the chair across from him.

"Lovely dress. Looking very stylish," he remarks.

"Thanks!" Trixana grins.

"So, how have you been? Must be weird to be in the Capitol after so long in District 7. How have you been holding up?"

"Pretty well," Trixana says. Her smile starts to fade and she shifts uncomfortably. Sweat starts to appear on her forehead. "It's a lovely city, really."

"Tell us about District 7," Phoenix says. "Most of the people watching this, all they know about District 7 is trees. That can't be all there is, can it?"

Trixana shakes her head, squinting her eyes. "Oh, no. It's literally just trees. Trees everywhere."

"Sounds tiring."

"Well, if you ever want to build a house…" Trixana clicks her tongue. "Anyway, I do love how unique the Capitol is. Not like District 7 wasn't special, in its own way. It will always have a special place in my heart."

The girl is putting up an immense struggle to keep her cool, and she is more or less successful. The audience is definitely siding with her.

"It can be interesting to look on the future. This entire place is sort of futuristic. But for now, I think it's my best bet to live in the present. Take things as they come. The games can be… a bit of a handful, if you know what I mean."

Phoenix hums softly as the buzzer rings.

"Next up: James Smith from District 7!"

He jogs onto stage wearing a dark green suit and a multicolored bow tie that reminds me of a sunset.

"My my, James Smith," Phoenix contemplates as the boy takes a seat. "That's no ordinary name."

"Well, I'm no ordinary person."

"How are you feeling? I know you tributes do a lot of preparing for your interviews, but nothing can compare to actually being live. What's it like, for the first time?"

"It's a bit nerve-wracking," he answers. "But not quite as terrifying as I thought it would be."

"Mind if I change the subject? Tell us some more about District 7."

James presses his lips together. "Oh. Everything Trix said. Trees and trees and trees."

"What's your family like? Got a girlfriend?"

"No." The answer is very sudden.

Phoenix squints his eyes. "Oh, I don't believe it. There's gotta be somebody."

"Well, Phoenix. You see, I'm… I don't…"

He can't speak.

"Let's talk about your family," Phoenix says in an effort to make a quick recovery.

"Yep. About them." James once again starts to breathe properly. "We help around the church. It's just mom and dad and I."

"Is religion a big thing in 7?"

"Not really," James says. "But it can be relaxing to look up on something you can't comprehend."

Phoenix frowns. "Sounds terrifying."

"Oh, it's not." There's no time for more conversation. The buzzer sounds, and the two share a handshake before James exits.

"Give a warm welcome to our girl from District 8, Blue Vixen!"

The girl struts out of the wings in a dark red dress with a black sash. A red streak runs through her hair. The look might work on a bloodthirsty career, but it just looks out of place on Blu, especially given her short stature.

"Miss Vixen, let me just say, you are stunning!"

Blu laughs. "This dress is great, isn't it? I feel so regal. Like a queen."

"I can assure you, you look every bit as amazing as you feel. And, as always, it's great you've got confidence."

Blue lifts up the red fabric, and the audience sighs in wonder.

"Any thoughts on the games? Feelings? Tell us anything you want."

"I might not look like much," she says. "But I can promise anyone listening that I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."

It's definitely hard to believe. Her demeanor is the last thing from intimidating. Who knows, maybe she'll pull off a surprise at some point.

"And the arena? Anything you're hoping for?"

"I hope there's darkness."

"Darkness. Could you explain some more?"

Blu rests her arms on her lap. "I'm a great hider. And I'm fast enough to jump out and surprise almost anyone. What's the word for that?"

"Ambush."

Blu rolls her eyes. "Yep. That's the one."

"Met any interesting tributes yet?" Phoenix asks.

"Oh, sure. But I've made the decision to go in solo. There are some great potential allies around me, but I think I'll ultimately be more successful by myself."

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with that," Phoenix says. "I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say: I can't wait to see what you'll pull off."

Blu waltzes out of the spotlight as the buzzer rings. In her place, Gary Redwire enters, wearing a silk-brown button-down shirt.

"Welcome, Gary Redwire from District 8! Have a seat, make yourself comfortable."

Gary sits down with his arms straight down at his sides, terrified.

"Doing alright?"

"Yep."

Phoenix takes a deep breath. "Now, I have to ask… are you into poetry?"

"No. Not at all."

A chorus of awkward laughs ring through the audience.

"You're going to have to give us an explanation for what happened at the reaping."

"I wasn't feeling myself."

Phoenix raises an eyebrow, and Gary raises his voice. "I just wasn't feeling myself at the reaping. I might have been sick."

"Well, no worries. It's great you're well again. Nervous?"

He swallows hard. "Yep."

"Don't be nervous, honey. We're all here to have a great time. Imagine I'm the only one here. Or imagine the audience in their underwear, I don't care. Do whatever you need to."

"Okay."

"If you don't like the poetry, you must like the stars," Phoenix says. "You gave us some pretty inspiring words about them."

"Please don't remind me of that anymore."

"Got it. Want to tell us about District 8?"

There's no time for Gary Redwire to say anything more. The buzzer rings, and he eagerly leaps back into the wings. Only four more districts to go.