Jason Baize (17) D8M
All I could think about was my trembling hands. It was stupid, really. There were so many things in the world I could be thinking about. How poorly my interview could go. How close I was to the games. How many steps it would take for me to reach the chair. Stupid thoughts would race through my head for half a second and I'd go back to thinking about my traitorous hands that wouldn't even sit still. Trembling just wasted energy. It wasn't even useful and there I was doing it.
At least I got to wear a suit. Silver was wearing a dress that her thighs probably rubbed together in. It didn't matter that her thighs touched. It just mattered that that would be so uncomfortable and hopefully she got to wear shorts underneath. Touching thighs were the worst. No matter how you sat you were forced to be aware of yourself. My suit was comfortable despite being a little tight. I had gotten to tie my tie myself, which I was proud of, and the knot was nice and tight. It was straight-cut and even Marcelene, the world's most renowned suit-hater, couldn't find fault with it. Then again, she hated suits, not ties.
I tried to shove my thoughts away while I took Marcelene's hand in my trembling one. You love performing, I tried to convince myself. I did. I loved writing speeches and performing them in forensics. I loved talent shows and I loved generally being the center of attention. So what was wrong with the interview? The same thing that was always wrong. I loved forensics and I panicked before every speech. Probably why I always got a 22 or a 24, never that coveted 25/25. I loved talent shows and I always stayed up late the night before worrying. It wasn't disdain. It wasn't even terror. It was good, old-fashioned stage fright.
"Well, Jason, that's... a suit," Marcelene said in her normal dig at suits. Silver had a "lovely dress." I had a "suit." "I see you have a pin on it. He/him, xe/xim. What exactly does that mean?" I steeled myself for judgment but heard only curiosity in her tone, so I gave her my sincere answer, not my defensive one.
"I identify as a boy, which you all know. I was Reaped as one, hah. But I also identify... just adjacent to being a boy, I guess would be the right way to put it. Like even though I'm a boy I can choose to be right in the middle of boyhood or I can be on the outside with just one foot over the line. So I use he/him for how much of a boy I truly am, but also appreciate and use xe/xim for the part of me that exists outside the gender binary. I know it's kinda complex so I don't expect anyone to understand. I can hardly even explain it. But it is what it is." Marcelene nodded at me while I spoke, encouraging me to continue. I didn't want my being trans to be all of my being, but I also wanted to be someone other kids in the world could see. I wanted them to know that they weren't alone in not quite knowing which pronouns to use, or in using a whole bunch. "To be honest, they/them also works for me. I'll accept basically any pronoun that isn't being used with the intent of being rude. I don't like she/her, but I don't get mad when people use it. I look like a she, so I can't really blame them."
"Mhm. I can see how that would make sense. Do you plan to transition ever, or are you comfortable in your body?"
I took my time before replying to Marcelene's question. I had plenty of time left in my interview and I wanted to make sure I got the answer exactly right. It was a delicate topic with no completely correct answer. "I do plan to transition. It's going to be great for me. I mean, I actually do have back pain. And I know it'll be good for my mental health. Between wearing whatever I want without getting harassed and actually being in the body that's right for me, it will be great. But that doesn't mean this body is bad. I'm working on accepting my body until I can change it. It's a great body. It gets me from one room to another. It just isn't my body."
"That sounds like a great way to look at it! But what do you mean, harassed? Here in the Capitol we wear whatever we want. Clearly!" Marcelene gestured at her hardly-there top and her practically nonexistent shorts and laughed. "When it's hot we wear nothing and when it's cold we turn up the heat. What controls what you wear?"
"Well... I do. I try to wear whatever I want. I really do. Because boys can wear dresses and boys can wear skirts and boys can be cute." One hand approached my mouth while I spoke and I forced it into my lap, refusing to fall back into nervous habits. "But I don't really wear revealing clothing. I used to. Even though I don't want to be in my body I acknowledge that it's an attractive one. I liked wearing short skirts and tight shirts and feeling cute. But boys notice things. They started commenting a lot about my breasts - which are big, I mean, they're pretty noticeable - and they... talked about doing things to me. And I started being quieter and hiding myself more. It's not a huge deal. It'll just be nice once I'm clearly a man and don't have to deal with that."
Marcelene looked like she was about to slap me by the time I finished speaking. Her eyes were on fire and she was glaring at me so intently I flinched in my chair. "It is a big deal," she said slowly, poison lacing each word. "That's awful and no one should go through it. Once you win the Games you can tell them what's what and wear whatever you want. And until you do, I'll be here, wearing whatever I want without being afraid of them." Her words would do almost nothing. People would keep being awful and children would keep disappearing into themselves for their own safety. But coming from her I knew they were sincere, and I knew she might change just one villain and save just one life.