Soya Orlando, 14, D11F:

My day begins abruptly, a sharp knock on my bedroom door snapping me awake instantly. "Young lady, you need to get up right this instant and come out for breakfast."

"Leave me alone."

"Come on, Soya, you know how stressful it is for me when you and Griffin are off schedule. Now unlock your door and join us at the dining table."

"Must I?" I tuck my head back under the duvet, trying to capture the last snippet of warmth I'm liable to see all day.

"Yes, you must." I haul myself up from the mattress and slide open the deadbolt, stepping into the hallway. The escort is fretting so badly he's chewing his fingernails, despite having just gotten them painted. I try to have a little pity, but I just can't find any sympathy for him today. He signed up for this job, he should learn to deal with the consequences. Also, he's complicit in the deaths of children, so, there's that. I don't want to piss him off too much though, he's in charge of sponsorship since our mentors are terrible. No wonder District Eight hasn't had a victor in twenty years.

I sit down on a cushioned chair as the escort wheels in a buffet tray. Griffin looks equally exhausted. Training has taken its toll on us. If I'm a wreck after being active for three days in a row, what's it going to be like in the Hunger Games?

I load up my plate as much as I can, stacking waffles and sausages on top of each other, and douse the whole thing in gravy. Meat was scarce in District Eleven, but it helped put a little muscle on my bones. Here, my goal is entirely different. I'm aiming to pack on as much fat as I can before I enter the arena, enough to sustain me for several days with minimal food. Uncomfortable as it is, I force myself to ask for seconds, and then thirds. I've consumed a staggering amount of food in a very short amount of time for just this single meal, and it could keep my family going for a week, maybe more. The escort appears disgusted by my lack of manners, and Griffin looks slightly disturbed, possibly because I eat two or three times as much as he does and he's a while foot taller than me.

After the escort orders me to wash off the gravy smeared by my mouth (a request I fulfill by essentially making out with the tablecloth), Griffin asks to be excused to the District Four apartment, probably so he can spend more time with his allies. "Excellent," says the escort. "I get to have you with me all day, which is great, because I need to more or less replace your entire personality by this evening. Let's start off with walking properly." Ignoring his jab, I deadpan at him.

"I already know how to walk."

"Well, yes, you do, but not to walk the way you should. Notice how I step lightly with a metered stride?"

"No." The escort stares me down, looking angry.

"Your problem, Soya," he declares, "Is that you don't know when to bite your tongue. Being combative won't win you any favors with the Capitol."

"You know what? Screw the Capitol. And screw you too."

Amethyst "Thys" Kurono, 16, D5F:

Dare, my mentor, nods encouragingly from his spot on the sofa. "That's a start," he says, "But only a start. Your reply seemed a little standoffish. Try again." He's coaching me in regards to my interview angle, what sort of demeanor I should try to display when Jack Cannon is asking me questions.

"Dare, I don't know if I can do this. I don't get along well with people. How am I going to manage to behave like a completely different person in front of the Capitol?"

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. We're doing a little variation on the classic 'strong and silent' technique, as you know. Instead of giving one word answers, stay a little more reserved, but still respond. Just be very mild mannered. Act like you don't care what happens. Speak in a neutral tone of voice. You don't want your interview to be a train wreck, so let's work through this together, okay? Practice the voice again."

I obediently slip into the strange, soft tone he's forcing me to use tonight. It doesn't quite move through my throat or fill up my lungs the way my normal voice does, and I'm having trouble getting used to it. Don't get me wrong, Dare is great at what he does. He comes from District Two, and he's been giving me some amazing advice. If he thinks the change in tone will make more people like me, it's worth a try. Unfortunately, it's also horribly tiring, so I'm being presented with a choice. Do I carry on and risk a sore throat, or give up now?

I keep practicing, responding to some questions Dare has written out for me. "Well, Jack, of course I want to win. It would be a great honor and...Dare, where can I get some water? This is starting to hurt."

Dare shoots me a look of concern. "If something's causing you pain, it means you're straining too hard. How about we ditch the fake voice? You still have to keep learning how to respond to things, but you can take a break. Do you need a break?"

"A break would be nice."

"Alright." He leads me into the kitchen, where a pitcher of juice still loiters on a side table. After pouring me a glass, he produces a clipboard. "Time for another lecture!" he says brightly.

Having an organized mentor is a great thing, but this just feels a little excessive. Still, I listen attentively. Perhaps he'll mention something I can use.

Lyra-Rose Ripley, 16, D4F:

I'm a little different from the other girls here. I actually care about the Capitol, its people, and especially its fashions. I'm looking forward to seeing my formal outfit this evening, but in the meantime, I begged the escort, Calliope, to teach me how to walk in high heels. I already know, but the Capitol pumps feel good on my feet, and it's not like my time could be better spent doing something else. I already know pretty much everything there is to know about making people like me, so I'm obviously going to clinch the interviews.

I had assumed that Head Gamemaker Lucent Saccharyn was an intelligent woman. I was wrong, and I'm disappointed, because being wrong is a Stacey thing, not a Lyra-Rose thing. I did much better than my score might suggest, I know I did! Clearly Lucent was just jealous and wanted to sabotage my chances of winning. It's not like she'd ever actually succeed, though. I'm sure the Capiolites will be smart enough to realize she threw me under the bus because she's horribly envious of my beauty and fighting expertise!

I stomp the floor with my new shoes, kicking up slight puffs of dust. Why is there dust? Dust is disgusting. Aren't there supposed to be people here who clean it for us? The outer district kids have no chance this year. I'm part of the Career Pack, and although any one of us is tougher than any one of those pathetic outlier tributes, I'm obviously the most skilled and intimidating member of the alliance. "Lyra," Calliope informs me, "You mustn't stomp in those. You could injure yourself. Please be safe."

Safety matters very little to me. It wasn't very safe of me to openly display my best skills in the Training Center, now was it? I'm just the only Career brave enough to do this sort of thing. I deserved a Twelve for my training score, but because the Head Gamemaker is just an old hag who hates seeing younger, prettier, more skilled people succeed at stuff. That's why she gave me that measly little Eight. It's only serving to turn the other Careers against me. I'm a very kind person, but the other tributes laugh when I say so, and they should know better.

In fact, I'll kill them all on the first day just to prove my point.

Chip Maxen, 13, D12M:

"Have some lunch." The teal-haired escort presses a fresh roll into my hand.

"I'm not hungry." In actuality, I'm starving, but I'm afraid anything I eat will just come back up.

"Anxious about the interviews?"

"Yeah."

"I get it. Sometimes it's nervewracking to get up on a stage, knowing you're being broadcast live to the entire country, and all of Panem will laugh at you if you make a mistake or say something dumb. The public speeches are the worst part about being an escort."

"How do you deal with it?"

"Sarcasm. If you have a little humour ready and can poke fun at yourself if you mess up, you're golden. The trick is to acknowledge the moment of embarrassment just enough so that it passes quickly. Remember, people are stupid. They don't know the first thing about you, and they have terrible memories. You've got nothing to worry about. Besides, you're not really going to be the center of attention. All eyes will be on the Career Pack and the high scoring outer district tributes. After Trey from District Ten, nobody will be paying much attention to you."

"Isn't that a bad thing?"

"No. Let's face it, you won't have many sponsors. You're not going to turn the tide massively in your favor by making a good joke or two. Just try to get through the evening. The interviews are more about deciding what tributes are promising rather than which tributes are likeable. You'll find a way to survive in the Hunger Games with your alliance. Griffin and Ardledge are with you, remember? Plus Emily, who also scored really high. You have it easy. There's no high score you have to answer for, no bold personality you have to tone down. Just be yourself. There's no reason to be anything but the average District Twelve teenager. Being noticed can actually be detrimental at this point. DOn't get discouraged if they dislike you, and don't get discouraged if they do end up liking you. You'll be fine either way."

"Are you sure? Like, really positively sure?"

"I'm one hundred percent sure. I know it seems frightening, but public speaking is not the enemy. Talk about your parents, or your little brother. Maybe show the Capitol audience that drawing he did. It'syour token, remember? Focus on happy memories of your home. You have the last interview of the night, and a feel good finish will be a positive thing for everyone. You told me that you sometimes played pranks on your teachers. Regaling the crowd with a story of a time you did that could be helpful. The key is remembering that it's only three minutes long. Once the three minutes are up, you don't have to say another word to the sponsors ever again if you don't feel like it. One strong conclusion tonight will ensure you're better off in the arena and I have a better chance of giving gifts to you. Can you do that for me, Chip?"

"I think so."

Zea Poales, 18, D9F:

From an impartial standpoint, I'm sitting at a pretty comfortable position. Jack and Iris predicted that I would place fifth. I earned an impressive score of Ten. I'm entering the Hunger Games with a load of sponsors lined up and two allies, one a highly observant engineer in training, the other a meat shield I can sacrifice to save myself. I also have some secret information about Oscar Poudret's plot to poison his district partner that can be used as a last resort against the Careers, or I could always just toss Soren to them if I'm in a jam. Pola knows some survival skills, and so do I.

I'm still planning on going into the Bloodbath, though. Being tame won't do me any favors with the sponsors. As a result, I'm going for a friendly and outgoing angle during my interview tonight. Shiloh, my mentor, asks me a question. "So, how do you feel about your training score?"'

I respond in my best, sweetest customer service voice, the wheedling one I would pull out whenever someone got upset in the pub and I had to calm them down before people got hurt. "Well, I was quite surprised by it. I was expecting a much lower score, but of course, I've had plenty of time to train. In District Nine, I played darts almost every day, so I think it translated well into throwing knives."

"Good," Shiloh says, "But you need a little more of a lilt in your voice. Be bright and bubbly, even a little squeaky if you need to. Now, do you think you have a chance at Victory?"

"Oh, for sure! See, it's sort of sad, because of course I've made so many incredible friends, but only one person in my alliance can survive. I did get the highest score out of the three of us, but Pola's got some pretty cool tricks of her own!" I wink, even though it makes me want to vomit. "Still, I think my age and strength will help me beat the odds. I sure hope they're in my favor tomorrow morning!"

"The voice is better," Shiloh agrees, "But I don't know if I'm quite buying the story. It sounds a little too fakey-fakey, if you know what I mean. Maybe add a touch of sentimentality this time, a little dab of anguish, to make it sound like it's coming from the heart." I change my inflection to what I hope will satisfy her, and she nods emphatically. "That's just right. Remember to do this tonight as well. Now I'm going to pass you off to Phoebus, okay? He's going to teach you how to be charming through your mannerisms as well as your speech. I know you're going to do just perfectly during the interviews. Hit all the right notes, let them know you're sociable, caring, confident, and tough, all at the same time. If anyone can pull off four different personalities, it's you."

She has no idea how right she is.

Livieoula "Livi" Carnelian, 18, D1F:

Leah, my mentor, congratulates me all over again when she walks into my bedroom. She's supposed to be helping me perfect my angle, but what she's mostly doing is marvelling over my score. I'm still a little in shock over it. No Twelve has ever been given out in my lifetime. I'm glad that the Head Gamemaker decided I had done enough to earn one. Rafe's already popped in to tell me he's sure I'll be a great leader. Very chivalrous of him, and such good etiquette. The thing is, I was certain he was going to do well, and yet he only scored a Nine. A first I thought something fishy was going on, but then I remembered what we were told on the third day of training. If you lose when battling a trainer, points are deducted. That must have been his mistake, letting down his guard and having the trainer best him. Not a good look, to say the least.

From what I've heard, Rafe's still bummed about scoring lower than he had hoped, and I don't blame him. I have the best odds, the best placement prediction, the best score, and the best position in the best alliance. I'm on top of the world right now. The Career Pack is mine to command, and my first order of business will be doing something about Lyra-Rose. She contributes nothing to the group and spends all her time bragging about how great she is and saying everyone's jealous of her. If Rafe or someone had pulled that sort of trick, it would have been out of a hope to regain their dignity, and a talking-to would set them straight. The problem with Lyra is that she's deluded. She genuinely believes herself to be superior.

I doubt that interview strategy will work out well. I plan to be the star of the night. Girls from District One have a reputation of acting sexy or flirty, but I think a gritier angle would be a more fitting approach. I'll talk a little about my score, say how nice the Capitol weapons are to handle, thank the Gamemakers and the other Hunger Games facilitators for their generosity in making my stay so comfortable. I know that I;'m going to win the Hunger Games, so do my fellow tributes, and so does the Capitol. A healthy mixture of arrogance and flattery will paint me as the perfect candidate for a Victor of a Quarter Quell: highly skilled in combat, loyal to a fault, and a good Capitol-fearing citizen who understands how much effort goes into planning the annual ceremonies and celebrations.

I'm familiar with the art of manipulation, thank you very much, but like salt, it must be used in moderation. A little sprinkling makes things better, but too much ruins it all. Tonight I'm going to make the Capitol my loyal devotees, enrapture them, and then make use of their riches when the sponsor presents come raining down on me in the arena as I put on the greatest show they'll ever see.

They gave me a Twelve for a reason, you know.

Hey y'all!

I'm happy to say that three chapters will be coming out tomorrow. The Bloodbath is really starting to creep up on us, huh? We only have a few more chapters to go until the tributes enter the arena, so this might be a good time to write a review or two if you've fallen behind, since I know some of you like to do one every chapter and are trying to get caught up. Tomorrow's chapters will include the interviews, the tributes' last night in the Capitol, and their thoughts on the morning of the Games. I hope you all have a great evening, and I'll be back with you tomorrow!

– LC :)