"Hera, I don't think black lipstick is the way to go," Athena says. She takes the tube out lipstick out of her sister's hand and sets it on the vanity I have been set in front. Hera makes a clicking sound with her tongue and turns back towards the bevy of shades of lipstick lined on the counter.
Today is the final day before the Games, which means I have been unceremoniously thrust onto my prep team and designer in preparation for the interview tonight. Yesterday had been a flurry of prepping with Blight and Flynnigan for etiquette and the like, but I already knew my strategy and what was best to say to go with it, so it had passed with little incident.
Artemis is curling my hair with a device that feels hot against my neck, and they warned me to stay still lest I be burned.
"Johanna, just remember someone is always watching," Athena says softly, coming closer with a brush and pallet of powder. "And not all of them will be rooting for you like we will." Athena had been attempting to give me a few pearls of wisdom before they finished my look for the interview and thrust me on Lydia. A part of me feels offended this woman, who has never had a worry in her life, is offering me advice on survival, but there is something almost sweet about it that compels to bite my tongue.
And when Athena says she's rooting for me, it almost feels like she means it.
Lydia appears a half hour later, silent as always and lips pressed into a thin line. She gives the members of my three prep team a nod and they leave wordlessly. Lydia steps in my room and I attempt to open my mouth in a way that is not uncomfortable. Do not like lipstick, I decide, no matter the color, as it feels heavy and gross on my lips.
Lydia is carrying a garment bag over her shoulder, which hangs on the doorframe and then turns back to me.
"This should do you well," Lydia says. "Nice colors, a just a step above semi-formal. You should blend into the background." Lydia had been none too pleased when Blight had pulled her aside yesterday and said my plan was to not stand out, as she seemed to have something more elaborate planned for my interview dress. She had given us a silent, sullen look the rest of the night, but agreed to change it all the same.
"Thank you Lydia," I say. Lydia gives me a nod.
"We need to get dressed," Lydia said. And so dress me, she did. Lydia had foregone a dress for a soft brown sleeveless jumpsuit. Along the collar were the designs of vines that twirled around each other to make a swirling pattern. My shoes are simple, brown flats with a small, girly bow on them. My make-up is subdued, only a flash colors on my eyes but the rest of my make-up as natural as possible. My hair is curled, a single wreath of a braid sat where a headband would, one or two leaves casually added in. By District standards, I am dressed excessively. By Capitol standards, I am dressed plainly.
It is exactly what I need, if I'm to not stand out. I give Lydia one measured smile. Lydia does not respond to my smile, only clicks her tongue and fiddles with my collar to straighten it. For a moment, I am grateful for Lydia. If I had been stuck with a stylist that was loud, I might have strangled them. It is nice that she is quiet. I like the quiet too.
Once Lydia is satisfied with my outfit and stops fidgeting with the collar, she returns me to the main living room. She deposits me in a chair and then swiftly turns on her heel to leave. I do not turn to watch her but I can hear the elevator ding behind me as she exits.
I am alone for a long while. The sun is starting to set in the sky, which means soon we will have to arrive for our interviews. I wonder idly what Caesar will ask me. I will most likely get a question about the Reaping, my terrified scream would be the elephant in the room. Blight had warned me to just act scared when asked. Keep myself looking like I was so scared I would die out quickly of hunger or fear.
Eventually Trapper is dragged in the room, and he is dressed far more extravagantly than I am. His suit is a checkered brown and dark green, and a crown of twigs sat on his head, two points lifted up like it was antlers of some kind. A bright gold flower is pinned to his chest, and it stands out as garish against an already vivid suit. Blight is following after him, and Flynnigan is tittering about something.
Blight spares me look and then nods, before returning back to Trapper and whispering in his ear. I feel a twist in my chest. Trapper's insistence to train separately feels even more sour than before. Had it been an attempt to steal away Blight's attention? Though me and Blight had a strategy planned, all his energy and time was with Trapper. I am the odd one out, and the one most likely to be pushed aside because Trapper needs more help.
I say none of this, knowing at this point it will do me no good, but I eye Trapper suspiciously as Flynnigan starts to lead us down to the front of the Training Center, where a large stage has been erected. Down the avenue are thousands of people squished together, the only seats in the first few rows of viewing, which is reserved for the mentors and escorts. All the Capitol officials are on a nearby terrace, looking down over all of us.
Much like everything else, the interviews going in ascending order of the districts, but for interviews the girl would go first. When we arrive at the side of the stage with the other tributes, it is just like the first day of training, and we are split by an invisible wall, district by district. I manage to catch the eyes of Daisy and Clyde, who are dressed in ridiculous outfits meant to mimic the overalls of a miner. Both look terrified, but I wonder why Daisy could be so scared. She is twelve years old, but one with an eight. That's the highest a twelve-year-old has ever scored to my memory.
We are shuffled into our seats along the back of the stage. We sit in a single row, where we will remain as we wait for yourselves to be called. Caesar already sits patiently in his interview chair, and he gets the crowd riled up after the lights go up and we start to broadcast to the whole nation. The girl from 1 stands and struts forward, her floor-length yellow dress giving her the appearance of being encased in gold. I am unsure what exactly the theme she is going for is, but I suppose it must be one that's working as from the moment she sits down, the crowd is eating up her every word.
I roll my eyes. This is going to be a long night; I can already feel it. The rest of the Ones, Twos, and Threes pass without incident, but then Marlin is called and I realize how danger she is going to be.
Marlin stepped from her chair, her form-fitting seafoam green dress and seashell tiara turned her into the spitting image of a sea creature. She smiles dazzlingly and then begins to walk forward, but then she trips forwards and gracefully rolls back to her feet, feigning embarrassment.
"Whoa!" Caesar says. He reached out a hand to her as she sits to steady her. "That was a close one! Wouldn't want an injury before the Games start, would we?"
Marlin giggles sweetly. "Oh, Caesar, if a bruise is the price for this dress, I'm willing to pay it! I'm just – I'm just so grateful I get to look so beautiful! The Capitol is so generous for letting me!"
Her strategy is clear. Marlin intends to be the poster child for what the Games are to be – show of strength, but a symbol of the Capitol's glory. Marlin has no problem towing the line of obedience to win sponsor's favor.
Marlin's time is up after a few minutes, and she returns to her sit with the buzzer. I almost shiver at the glint of rage in her eyes.
The boy from Four tries to do the same as Marlin, but he lacks the same charisma as his partner. Five and Six pass with no incident, and then it is me.
I manage to make it to the interview chair without falling, and scrunch in on myself, hunching my shoulders and not quite looking Caesar in the eye.
"Johanna!" Caesar says. "I must say, your outfit is quite exquisite." I bit my lip and smile.
"Oh, uh, thank you," I mumble just loud enough to be heard. "Madame Lydia really is a great designer." I shift my eyes to the ground nervously.
"Oh, there's no reason to be shy Johanna," Caesar says. "We're all friends here, aren't we?" He looks to the audience and they applaud in agreement. I look up from beneath my eye lids.
"I'm sorry Caesar," I say. "It's just so different here from District Seven!"
"I'm sure it is!" He reaches out a hand to mine and pats it comfortingly. I fight the urge to pull it back. "But once you go back home, I'm sure you can bring a little Capitol back with you." I smile. And there's the opening.
"Caesar," I say, and I can feel my eyes pinprick with hot tears. "I'm not sure I'll – I'll go home! Everyone here is just so strong and smart!" I wipe at the tears in my eyes. "I'm just glad I get to be in something so important." Caesar grips my hand tighter.
"Oh, Johanna, don't count yourself out quite yet!" Caesar says. "But I suppose that's a way to look on the bright side." I sniff once and wipe at my tears again. "I'm sure your District is proud of your patriotism!" I am unsure how I am able to keep from snickering. Everyone back home knows I could not give less of a rat's ass about the Capitol or Panem.
I don't have to hide my disgust at that fact for long, as the buzzer signifying the end of my time soon beckons, and I smile and stand, returning to my seat. Trapper is already walking to the chair and the way his hands shake tell me he is not ready.
Trapper's interview is memorable in the aspect that he does not say more than one word for each response. I look for Blight in the crowd, to see if he approves of this and this is some strategy that I can not name. Blight is looking straight ahead, but he is nodding slightly despite his usual impassive face. It seems this is something that I do not understand.
Trapper has been nothing but a mystery since he walked on the train. Whatever this strategy is, it better not mess up my own. I shut my eyes and shake my head.
Trapper is the least of my worries. I have bigger fish to fry. One specifically dressed in green just down the row. Trapper's interview passes and the rest of the people that follow are of little note, and me and them can seem almost interchangeable. Good, that's what I wanted it.
I perk up once Daisy's name is called. She shuffles to the front of the stage and looks only at her shoes.
"Miss Daisy!" Caesar bellows. "The little surprise of the Games!"
Daisy smiles slightly and she hugs her arms around herself.
"What exactly did you do to get an eight?"
Daisy's eyes widen and she shakes her head. I narrow my eyes. She seems…scared. Scared that someone may actually know what gave her an eight.
"I-uh, I'd rather leave it a surprise," Daisy manages to whisper. "Don't want to tip off the competition."
Caesar nods sagely. "Well, that makes sense. You can't blame a man for trying, can you? It is my job to worm secrets out for living!" Daisy manages a believable laugh. Daisy is soft and quiet, just like she had been for the past few days. I had thought she would be bolstered with confidence after earning an eight, even if it painted a larger target on her back. An eight in the Games was no easy feat for an outlier District tribute, especially for one so little as Daisy.
I narrow my eyes and I watch Daisy kick her knees anxiously. Something happened when Daisy was in that training room. And I do not think it was good.
Notes:
Chapter Bible Verse:
"The Lord is my strength and my shield." - Psalm 28:7
It's been a hot second. I did my best on proofreading, but it's been a TIME since I've posted the last chapter. My life has really gone to hell in a handbasket, but I knew if I did not get a chapter out, I was going to be a pain to get back on the horse again. If you could please send some prayers towards my family, it would be much appreciated. God knows the need. Thank you.
On a happier note, Mock Trial season is over, so that means more time for writing! YAY!
Review Replies:
ReadBooksWriteThings: How Daisy got that Eight will be important, and we'll get more on it once the Games start. And Johanna suspects that score may not be on the up and up! Daisy is quickly turning into a favorite of mine, and I can not wait to get her in action! I hope you're dong well, and have a blessed day!
Questions, comments, or concerns? Let me know! Have a blessed day!
-PrincessChess