This is the last pre-arena chapter. *cough* And the last chapter where everyone is alive. *cough*
Veronica gazes into the mirror, trying to recognise the girl who is staring back at her.
Her face is blemish-free, the celebrity-class styling and makeup make her eyelashes look at least twice their length, her lips shine and her skin glows in a way that looks almost airbrushed.
Her hair, normally hanging so it just brushes her shoulders, has been curled and done up in an elaborate bun at the back of her head, multiple brightly coloured hairpins placed in it in an allusion to her district. Her nails have been filed into perfect curves and painted a shade of sparkling midnight blue.
Her floor-length gown, perhaps the most impressive of all, is an overlapping patchwork of complementary but different coloured silky fabrics that, at a distance, mix together to form a glistening blue. It's the kind of thing she could have barely dreamed of having a part in making, never mind wearing.
She twirls and poses, admiring the result of an entire day of her prep team's work at every angle. She looks a little like a peacock, but a very beautiful peacock, so she guesses that's ok.
It doesn't look like her, it doesn't feel like her, it's as if all of this is happening to the beautiful girl in the mirror and she's watching from a distance, from a small television back at her parents' flat. She could be there with them right now, cramped, a bit hungry, slightly cold, safe.
Cecelia pokes her head round the door, "We're ready to go."
She closes her eyes for a second, the reality of the situation sinking back in.
Cecelia walks over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Are you feeling ready?" she asks gently.
"No." she says.
"No," says Cecelia quietly, "I guess you wouldn't be." She pauses, "Do you have a district token to take into the arena?"
Veronica shakes her head, in all honesty she didn't even think about bringing something from home until she broke out of her initial shock and was already halfway to the Capitol. Even then, she wouldn't have known what to bring, her monocle would probably be seen as something that might give her a minor advantage (it really wouldn't have), and her diary would have been out of the question.
"Have this then," says Cecelia, taking a handkerchief out of her pocket, "it was my token when I won, maybe it will give you luck too."
Veronica unfolds it, the handkerchief is carefully embroidered with one of the nicer District 8 skylines, it smells like home. She looks up at Cecelia, blinking a wayward tear out of her eye (if she ruins her makeup her makeover team will kill her before the Careers get a chance), "Thank you."
Cecelia smiles genuinely, before placing a hand on her back and guiding her to the main room of the apartment, "The interview will be fine, just focus on emphasising your strengths and why you want to win, and I'll make sure Pauline is fair with the donations you get in the arena."
Veronica smiles appreciatively and nods, despite her creeping doubts. Cecelia, though slightly pudgy in middle age and after three kids, still has the strong legs and wiry form of an athlete. She was by far the fastest runner in her Games, and it was enough to keep her from being caught and dodge the manoeuvres of her attackers in the climax. Garfunkel is big and built like a wrestler, Veronica knows the clips of him defeating his opponents well (God knows the District 8 TVs haven't stopped playing them since), he made it look completely effortless, something Pauline is clearly hoping Brad will replicate. She's none of these things. Her only trait is that she isn't stupid, and only JD feels like that is much of a skill against people who could kill her with their bare hands.
In the main room, Pauline is still fiddling with Brad's tie and muttering something about first impressions getting him even more sponsors (as if his stylist wouldn't have spent enough time making it perfect). Brad's sporting a similar style to her, his blazer, tie and pants a mix of colours that together form a blue, but is wearing a white dress shirt underneath. He nods at her in greeting, clearly nearly as frustrated as her at Pauline's fussing, she ignores him and they ride the elevator down in silence.
The ground floor is a bustle of staff, mentors and stylists getting the tributes positioned to go on stage. Before she is hastily pulled into her place in the queue she casts her eyes over the Careers, all smugly huddled together, the boys showing off their muscles, the girls pointing and laughing at the girls dresses they don't like (she takes pride in the fact hers apparently gets their approval).
Heather Chandler and David are dressed in bright reds, oranges and yellows. The idea is clearly meant to invoke thoughts of lava and all the fire, anger and power that goes with it. It's a bit of a jump from masonry to volcanos, but the result is no doubt effective.
Heather Duke, is wearing a skin-tight green dress that shimmers as she walks and shows off her (obviously fake) boobs. Her auburn hair, threaded with seashells, tumbles down her back and her makeup is vivid and alluring. It is obvious her designer has been inspired by the myth of the sirens. Their depiction of a beautiful creature, ready to lure foolish humans to their death, is very convincing and Veronica cannot resist staring at her for a little longer than necessary. Kurt dressed as Poseidon is a little uncreative, but he wields an elaborately decorated spear with enough fierceness that he'll doubtless get some sponsors who want to see him put it into full use in the arena (and some more sponsors from those who appreciate him topless).
Heather McNamara is dressed head to foot in gold and diamonds. Unlike the two other Heathers, the garment is clearly meant to show off her beauty and her district's wealth, rather than any fighting skills, but it looks no less impressive. Ram's wearing a pinstriped suit encrusted with diamonds.
Veronica's entry does not go entirely unnoticed, the tributes are all sussing out each other's costumes as a new one enters the fray, but from the looks some of the girls are shooting her, (the girl from 9, whose own dress is less than fantastic, actually scoffs in annoyance), her dress is particularly appealing.
She sees Kurt nudge Ram and whisper something to him, they both look Veronica up and down and leer at the cleavage revealed by her low neckline. She ignores them and the shiver it sends down her spine. Still, better that than them planning her death. God, if she'd known back in District 8 how much hot male attention she'd get by being prettied up in the Games, she might have tried her luck more beforehand.
She bets some of the bitches back at school are jealous.
"Line up in district order, female tributes in front of males!" shouts one of the hosts through a megaphone, and the Careers reluctantly shuffle into position with an even more reluctant looking Betty and Peter sandwiched in the middle. The hosts grab them roughly by the shoulders, making sure they're standing evenly, and hiss instructions as if they're cattle in line for the slaughterhouse.
"Where's 12?" she hears one of them say. But, no sooner have the words been said, JD and Martha arrive. They exit the elevator unaccompanied and, without much fuss, take their place at the back of the queue.
JD, for once, does not seem to be paying much attention to her. Instead, he's talking to Martha, his face softer than she's ever seen it. He puts his arm around her shoulders, the perfect imitation of genuinely comforting her but, the moment she looks away, the cold calculating look he always wears returns.
It's an odd change of events, because she hasn't seen him show any interest in Martha in the last few days. Even as he took note of her every move, he's regarded Martha with the same casual disinterest as he had everyone else. Well, everyone except her. She interested him.
What are you planning? She wonders, What do you want with Martha? What do you want with me? Maybe if she's lucky she'll never have the chance to find out.
The loud blare of trumpets playing the National Anthem distract her from her thoughts. She is prompted to follow the other tributes as they are paraded onto the stage and take their seats.
The audience gasps as they make their first appearance on camera, as if they have come to see contestants in Miss Panem, rather than eyeing up which gladiator they can put their money behind.
She imagines she is a citizen of the Capitol, who has waited all year to see the stunning new outfits, deciding, on the back of such things, who she will help live. It would be easy, she thinks, when your life is so luxurious that you can't imagine suffering, to see this as a fashion show, rather than a parade of the damned. She caters to them, not showing an inch of fear as she holds her head up high, once she is seated she smiles and gives a delicate wave in a way that best shows off the colours of her dress.
The camera lingers on them for a good few minutes, gently sweeping from tribute to tribute, to give some detailed close ups, before it finally draws back. Caesar, the Capitol's favourite interviewer, walks onto the stage (hair dyed black with streaks of gold this year) to rapturous applause and he calls Heather McNamara for her interview.
When it comes to being questioned, the Heathers are all much of a muchness. They play up different angles, of course; Heather Chandler is fierce, ruthless and a natural leader, Heather Duke is cunning and Heather McNamara is sexy (a trait which, unfortunately, might go miles in terms of sponsors). Really, it's just the typical Career interview – they're the best in their district, they can use all the weapons ever invented on the planet and they are prepared to kill anyone in the way of their inevitable victory.
Caesar asks the District 5 girl if she's sure her name isn't Heather too. Hilarious. Betty had gotten away with a simple, "Oh that's a nice change!" after the first two Heathers. In a silver dress, covered in twinkling white LEDs, Betty had smiled and laughed and seemed almost at peace with herself now her decision had been made. (Veronica felt a streak of envy towards her friend's certainty, as she pushed the decision she has to make tomorrow to the back of her mind. Let's focus on getting through this first.)
Peter had not been so calm, his eyes flitted from side to side, and many of his replies were umms and errs, even as Caesar tried to make him comfortable. Part of her worried that he was going to give Betty's plan away on the spot.
Ram and Kurt barely speak, communicating mostly by flexing their muscles and boasting about their high training scores. David is slightly more talkative but only to assure everyone that he's the oldest, most experienced and is absolutely certain he's destined to win, (when it is mentioned that it was his district partner that got the highest training score, he snaps that they don't mean anything in the reality of the arena).
When Al takes the seat he waves off questions about his mediocre training score and instead talks about how much he'd love to go home, of his friends and girlfriend. Veronica had been dubious about whether this super-hot girlfriend really existed, but the way he talks about trying to go home for her, blinking too frequently to have completely dry eyes, makes her decide he's either telling the truth or is a movie worthy actor.
She watches, mildly amused, as Caesar tries to get something useful from the girl from 7, who is clearly wishing she was high, and keeps turning everything into an elaborate metaphor about putting dynamite up a lion's butt. She tries not to listen too hard as the girl's 12 year old district partner, (so tiny he looks about nine,) shakes and stammers his way through his interview.
Then it's her turn.
She tries to pull herself together. This is what all the interview prep the last two days has been about. This is her last chance to win herself a tiny lifeboat before she is thrown out into open waters.
She smiles and waves, just as Cecelia taught her to, then gently lifts up her dress and walks (mostly) gracefully onto the stage.
"Miss Veronica Sawyer," says Caesar, immediately, "what a beautiful dress that is!"
Veronica smiles, "Well, what can I say? This is talent worthy of District 8 right here, it's the sort of thing I would love to be good enough to design one day…" and she segues into what she practiced with Cecelia, her love of designing, her hopes that if she were a victor she could design her own dresses like this.
It's not a stunning speech but, when she steals a glance at the giant screen of the crowd, no one seems too bored either.
"So Veronica, tell us about the 6 you scored in training," says Caesar, when the subject runs dry, "Any clues to a secret talent of yours?"
Veronica shrugs, "Well let's just say in District 8 you have a lot of practice welding sharp metal objects to create maximum impact."
Caesar laughs raucously, and there are a few chuckles from the audience. It's not a bad comment, but there are fifteen seconds left on the clock, and she hasn't really stood out. She needs something else, something to finish on to make sure she's not forgotten in the rabble of middling scores.
"But," she says, "what I do have, what they couldn't test in the training session is brains."
"Oooh a smart one, tell us more."
She feels JD's eyes on her as she answers, "It's not brawn that wins the Games, its strategy, use the right technique and strength isn't going to help you at all." She looks straight at the camera, "Just wait, you'll see."
A moment later the buzzer goes off.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Veronica Sawyer!" The claps as she leaves the stage are not particularly loud, but they're not too tepid either. She slumps back down in her chair, glad the attention is no longer on her, puts her fitted smile back on and listens to the remaining interviews. When she sneaks a glance at JD he is smiling smugly, as if he's won something.
Brad plays tough – tells Caesar with great certainty that you absolutely do not need to be a Career to win and that his hard life in District 8 has only trained him to be tougher. He then spends a while going on about how much of an honour it would be to win for District 8, so everyone will know the strength and bravery of his district, and even if he dies he would be glad to die representing his home. As Pauline Fleming gives Brad a loud cheer, Veronica has to suppress the urge to laugh. God, if Brad ends up winning she is going to fucking kill herself.
The girl from 9, Courtney, is probably the most impressive of the next few interviews, despite her out of fashion dress. She got a 7 in training and the brash arrogance she can pull from that is almost enough to hide her fear.
Dennis isn't quite as calm as Betty, but he has a certain laid-back air to his conversation. He's clearly made his decision too.
Martha, in an ill-fitting black dress (the designer clearly hadn't anticipated someone of her size coming from 12), looks like she's about to cry all the way through her interview. At 18 she's one of the oldest, but it's clear she's still got no chance. Veronica would pity her if she wasn't filled with relief at one tiny weak point in her almost inevitable death sentence.
JD is also wearing pure black, clearly 12's designer wasn't the most creative, but his suit is well fitted and accents his already well-proportioned body, pulling attention away from how underfed he looks. She doesn't know if it's drawn the attention of the audience, but God knows it's drawn hers.
There's no fear in him as he walks upon the stage, but he doesn't show the same brash confidence the Careers had either. If anything, he takes his seat the way Betty did, as if it doesn't matter how the interview goes.
When Caesar greets him he smiles with an unsettling charm, as if he's privy to a joke no one else is.
Once the formalities are done, Caesar gets down to business, "So Jason, you volunteered, I must say I was surprised, that's highly unusual in District 12. Will you tell us why?"
"What can I say? How else would I get my chance to see the wonders of the Capitol?"
If Caesar is taken aback he doesn't show it, "And who can blame you! We do love giving our tributes a taste of life here. So tell me Jason, is it everything you expected?"
"Exactly."
Caesar waits for JD to expand, but he doesn't, "Good to hear! It must be all incredible to see all this luxury as a boy from 12."
"It's not often that people from 12 get a chance to be heard from."
"And now you're on national TV! Are you enjoying your shot at fame then?"
"No one wants to die forgotten."
She thinks she sees a flicker of unease on Caesar's face, but the crowds are lapping it up, and he continues, "So you're going to make sure you give us a memorable show?"
JD gazes down, eyes sweeping over the crowd and then the tributes, pausing on her for a fraction of a second longer than everyone else. The contrast of his pale skin against the dark hair and suit, makes her think of a vampire, biding his time before he prepares to devour his victims.
He grins, "Trust me. No one in the Capitol is going to see anything like it again."
