Interviews
Aristona Villiour, 18, District 2 Female
Aristona smiles at her reflection, not remembering a time when she has ever looked so lovely. Her blonde curls trail down the open back of her dress, and her eyes have been outlined with the same bronze colour as the fabric hugging her body. She tears herself away from the mirror for a quick moment to thank her stylist, but her eyes return to it before long. Tonight is the final one that she will spend in the Capitol before the arena and, though the nerves eat at the edges of her mind, Aristona is excited for her family to see her on stage. They're used to seeing her in gym clothes with her hair tied up in a tight knot; it's funny to think that they might not even recognize her.
"I love it," she says gratefully and her stylist, Arabella, beams with pride.
"I'm glad," Arabella says from her station, still smiling widely from the compliment.
Aristona wants to reach up and touch her face, but she knows that will only ruin all the hard work. Even with all the makeup and hairspray, the first person that Aristona thinks of when she looks in the mirror is her father. They share a lot of the same features, but he always joked that all she really inherited from him was her frown. However, even right now with a smile overtaking her usual serious expression, Aristona thinks she looks more like him than ever. There's always been a quiet strength in her father's eyes that Aristona admired so much about him. Tonight, she can see it in her own eyes and it makes him feel not quite so far away.
She looks over to Delias, who's been ready for at least half an hour by now, and he's sitting alone as usual. In the first few days of their stay, their mentors used to at least made an effort to try and get him out of his shell. Now, it seems like they've given up and Aristona can't say that she blames them. He's her ally and he's trained hard, for that he has her automatic respect, but he's also not the easiest person to talk to. Still, she isn't going to give up on him even if she is warning herself to keep Delias at arm's length. He's already made more mistakes than she feels comfortable thinking about.
The Capitol has been almost exactly what she's expected, and for that Aristona is thankful. There will always be more to learn but she is proud to have been prepared so well by the Academy. If she ignored all the new faces in the training gym, it even felt like she was just back in District 2. Even tonight, going through her practiced responses to some common questions, Aristona feels ready to face the interview. The fact that she's to be on stage with Delias worries her slightly, but she knows that they will be able to pull it off. Everything is within her control, that's what she has to keep reminding herself.
Amos slams the door behind him, looking from Delias to Aristona before finally choosing to take the furthest seat from both of them. She hasn't spoken to him more than necessary since the train ride, partially because she doesn't need to but also because she can't help but feel a bit uneasy around the Victor. Aristona is many things, but forgetful is not one of them. She hasn't been able to stop herself from repeating Amos' words to herself as she's tried to fall asleep each night. Such a slight comment shouldn't occupy so much space in her mind, but it refuses to be quieted.
The Hunger Games aren't what you think they are.
Mathias hasn't brought up Amos' statement at all, but Aristona has spent far too long dissecting it and attempting to figure out what he meant in saying it. She knows that the best way to find out would be simply to ask him, but something has kept her from approaching him thus far. He could easily just be showing some kind of stress reaction, which Aristona knows is common among new Victors. She should just ignore him, but the words don't leave her mind. If anything, they just burrow in deeper.
"Would I be able to talk to you for a moment?" Aristona asks, pretending not to notice when Amos flinches at the sudden sound of her voice.
"If you have to," Amos says coolly. Aristona decides to remain standing, hoping that this chat will be brief. She should be finalizing preparations for her interview, not engaging in a conversation that she is almost certain she does not want to have. If it quiets her mind, that's all that matters. After this she will still have plenty of time to get focused on the interview.
"What did you mean on the train?" Aristona asks.
"What?"
"'The Hunger Games aren't what you think they are.' What does that mean?"
Amos snorts at the quote. "Been bothering you?"
"No," she lies. "I'm just curious."
"Then get lost," Amos shrugs. "I don't have time for curiosity."
Aristona stiffens at the dismissal, but she isn't willing to give up. She's gone this far with the topics and she isn't willing to keep going on without an answer. "I've studied the Hunger Games since I was fifteen years old. I think I at least have an understanding of what they are by now."
Amos laughs again, but this time his smile doesn't fade. Her question made it obvious that his statement bothers her, but why wouldn't it? He's questioning whether she's ready to be here, insinuating that she doesn't understand the Hunger Games enough to have volunteered in the first place. Aristona knows that he's wrong about that, but hearing the doubt come from a Victor is difficult. The only person she looks up to more than them is her father.
"You're right, you know everything," Amos says, shaking his head. "Let me know how that works out for you if you make it back."
"I never said that I know everything," Aristona reminds him, her voice stiff.
"Clearly you don't want to hear this," Amos shrugs. "So, do us both a favour and run along to Mathias. He'll tell you what you want to hear. I'm not interested in that."
Before she can respond, he brushes past her and slams the door of the prep room behind him. Mathias and Esmena, their escort, both look in her direction but Aristona quickly turns away. She's embarrassed to have even taken part in that conversation, let alone to have initiated it. Amos is clearly taking some kind of pride in planting these nonsense statements in her mind and that ends now. Aristona stares back at her reflection, willing away the uncertainty until she is once again looking into her father's strong eyes. She will make him proud and she will make herself proud because she has put everything into being prepared for the games. Her honour will be remembered.
Verdana Corbel, 14, District 7 Female
"Are you done?" Verdana asks, one eye closed as her stylist finally releases the comb from her curls. It feels like she has been sitting in this chair for hours, and Verdana isn't convinced that she's imagining that either. Her hair has been washed, brushed, re-wet, and now combed. If Gelina was trying to tame her curls, it's definitely not working. If she's trying to create a fuzzy cloud around Verdana's head then she's certainly nailed it this time.
Gelina sighs, placing the comb down at her station and grabbing the spray bottle again. "I'm going to give it one more go."
"Just wet it and leave it," Verdana says sharply. It's not that she hasn't already told her stylist this, but maybe third time's the charm.
"How's it going? Levi asks, sinking down into the chair in front of her. Verdana makes a face towards Gelina's turned back, indicating to him exactly how it's going. She's already anxious enough about going on stage in front of the entire nation, but now she also has a headache. "That well, eh?"
"Unfortunately," Verdana agrees. She's both thankful for Levi's quiet smile and wishing that she could slap it off his face. Sometimes she wonders if he's taking any of this seriously and other times she feels like he's taking it far too seriously. At training, he would have been more than content to sit at the same station all day if she didn't hurry him between skills. Then, last night, he seemed to break down over pretty much nothing. Levi didn't leave his room for the rest of the night, not even when she knocked and told him they needed to talk about interviews. All of their preparations had to be done earlier today, and that didn't do anything to quell Verdana's anxiety about this whole situation.
Still, he's all Verdana has right now. He got a training score of six, a whole point higher than she managed to get. Not to mention that, most of the time, she appreciates his company. Lately it's just been getting harder to be around other people. Verdana wants everything to play out exactly the way it needs to in order for her to have a chance at returning home. Other people just don't tend to do things perfectly and it's difficult not to be frustrated by that.
"How are you feeling?" Levi asks, turning up one corner of his mouth up in a pitiful smile.
"Fine," she snaps as Gelina pulls up harshly on her hair. She sees Levi look away and realizes that might have been ruder than necessary. Verdana appreciates what he's trying to do, but it's a bit hard to be nice with someone yanking on your head. "I mean, I think it'll go well."
"Me too," he says softly. They've been talking about nothing else all day except what they want to say during the interviews. Abilene mentioned that a lot of tributes base their interviews on a particular image that they want to present to the viewers. Levi didn't seem to like that idea, but it didn't take much time for Verdana to convince him it was a good strategy. They don't have very much time to make an impression and apparently the Capitol likes simplicity.
That's another thing she appreciates about Levi, that he isn't just going to override her suggestions because she's younger than him. He lets her speak and listens to what she's saying. Their partnership feels like just that, two people working together, and not him just protecting her because he's bigger and older. If anything, sometimes Verdana feels like she's the one taking care of him. Levi's not very good at hiding his emotions and Verdana's had a lot of experience with wiping tears.
"Let's go over the plan again," Verdana says nervously, glancing at the clock even though she can't be certain what time they're going to be called. Abilene has been waiting with them, but she didn't receive the night's schedule. Only Keenan got it, but he's nowhere to be found once again.
Levi shakes his head but smiles. "We're practical, smart. Best friends going into a death match- how tragic."
"Be serious," Verdana chides. Now is not the time for joking around and he should know this by now. Tonight is serious, not only is it their last chance to make an impression on potential sponsors but it's also their last night here. He's not going to be smiling tomorrow when they're in the arena and he shouldn't be smiling now.
Levi holds his grin for another second before it disappears. "I'm sorry."
"We're supposed to show that we're close, but also that we're smart enough to each make it on our own if we have to," Verdana reminds him. There's more to their plan, but she's having trouble recalling the details right now. Gelina spritzes more water over her hair and Verdana flinches as some cold droplets hit the back of her neck. She isn't sure if that's what's making it so hard to concentrate or if the nerves are finally present enough to suffocate, but either way she's had enough.
Verdana bats her stylist's hand away from her head and pulls herself up out of the chair. Gelina looks stunned to say the least, but Verdana isn't in the mood to explain. Even just standing up makes it a little bit easier to breathe, but she'll feel better when she's finally able to leave this room.
"I'm almost done, just-"
Verdana cuts the stylist off before she can finish. "It looks fine. I can finish it."
"I'm not sure if that's the best idea," Gelina says gently.
"You don't know what you're doing with my hair," Verdana says, her voice sharper than she intends but she's feeling too overwhelmed to temper it. "Just let me do it."
"V?" Levi asks quietly, using the same nickname that her younger siblings use before they can fully pronounce her name. Verdana hasn't yet decided whether it feels comforting or patronizing, but tonight she's leaning towards the latter.
"Don't," she warns without looking at him. Her eyes are focused solely on the mirror, where she is trying to work the water through her curls without breaking them up like her stylist did. That's one thing that she can fix right now, and she intends to do exactly that. One step at a time, never staying still, until one pile is done and she can move onto the next one. That's what worked at home and hopefully it works here too, because that's all Verdana knows how to do.
"District 7?" A woman with cropped hair and an earpiece asks, sticking her head into their prep room. "You're needed on stage in five minutes."
Jory Danton, 17, District 9 Male
Jory tenses as the woman pulls him up a couple steps to stand beside Sinead, but to his credit he doesn't say a word. Even a few days ago he would have pushed her away from him, but he's gotten better at holding both his tongue and his fists. As much as he would like to yell at and berate the Capitol idiots, he knows deep down that this will get him nowhere. It might make him feel better in the short term, but it's not going to get him out of this hellhole. They do have some decent advice, even if Jory would never tell them that. He hates to admit that they know more about the Hunger Games than he does, so he won't admit it. He'll just give them the opportunity to enlighten him and try not to outwardly show his disdain for the Capitolites.
He can feel Sinead slip her hand into his and squeeze it tightly. Jory knows that she's nervous about this whole thing, and he can't say that he feels much better. She's a nice girl and neither of them deserve to be here, but he can't say that he dislikes her company. It helps his temper to have someone like Sinead around, who wouldn't yell at someone if you paid her. Jory would also never admit that. "You're okay."
She nods and bites her lip, leaving teeth marks in the brown lipstick slathered across them. Jory squeezes her hand, though more gently than she had. His alliance is the one thing that he feels confident in right now. Jory can't control the interview questions or how many nights he has left sleeping in a real bed, but he chose his alliance members carefully. He trusts them and he knows that they trust him to lead them. "You're going to be okay."
"You already said that," Sinead whispers, a hint of her usual smile pulling at the edges of her lips.
"I know," Jory shrugs.
"Introducing the tributes of District 9, Sinead Kennard and Jory Danton!"
"Move," the woman hisses a second later, and Jory nods frantically as he pulls Sinead behind him. He is unprepared for any of the sensations that hit him as they step on stage. The lights immediately feel too bright, the air too warm, and the noise so loud that he isn't sure that it's not coming from right inside his brain. Jory freezes for a moment, blinking the spots out of his eyes before he can even find the chairs they're supposed to go towards. His fingers still stiffly clutch Sinead's, and he can hear a chorus of 'awes' from the crowd. Jory doesn't even think to let go until Sinead releases his hand to sit down.
"You all know the drill by now," Leon Deroche, the official announcer of all things Hunger Games, begins as the applause starts to die down. Jory flinches as he looks towards the man, Leon's bright features taking him by surprise. It's one thing seeing the man on the screen, but from less than two feet away he is downright frightening. Jory has to force himself not to shrink away. Now is not the time to be afraid even if everything here feels like it's meant to scare him. "We'll begin with the usual questions and then we will have a chance to answer some questions from our viewers. Let's get right into it, how are you both doing tonight?"
Jory locks eyes with Sinead for a moment, but her wide eyes tell him that she's not prepared to go first. Jory isn't sure that he is either, but he starts talking anyways. The sooner they get through the questions, the sooner they can leave and Jory would like nothing more. "Good, how are you?"
"Wonderful," Leon purrs, widening his eyes even further than Jory thinks should be possible. Leon hold eyes contact for only a brief moment before he spins to face Sinead. "And you, my darling?"
Sinead nods quickly, her expression easily betraying her fear. "Good."
Jory cringes, knowing that they're not getting off to a very good start. Sanai said that interviews are all about getting sponsors to like them, but so far they both just look and sound terrified. He doesn't want to listen to Sanai, but he also doesn't want to look like an idiot. Jory forces himself to sit up straighter and plasters a smile on his lips that he is certain doesn't look genuine but hopes is enough to change the image. Across from him, Sinead is all but trembling.
The next couple of questions are also decently easy to answer, and even his district partner seems to be relaxing somewhat into the conversation. What first felt like a deafening roar from the audience becomes almost a comfort to Jory. They like what he's saying, particularly his answer about his high training score. Sinead gets some applause as well, but Jory can easily hear that his is louder. It shouldn't be a competition, but it still makes him feel better that he's winning. They're allies and his success will also be hers, so he doesn't feel too bad about taking more of the attention.
"What is one thing that the people watching at home should know about you?" Leon continues.
Jory can see Sinead open her mouth, but he beats her to answer first knowing that she'll probably be fine to have more time to think. "I don't come to lose."
The applause comes quickly and Jory can feel another rush of adrenaline wash over him. He throws a wink out at the crowd, feeling equal parts ridiculous and empowered. It's hard to believe that he was nervous; it seems that he's a natural at this. Leon passes the same question back to Sinead and Jory leans forward to hear her answer. It won't be as good as his, but he's still rooting for her.
"I've learned a lot," Sinead says nervously. "I don't plan to lose either."
But you will, Jory thinks to himself before immediately pushing the thought aside with disgust. He cares about Sinead, even after telling himself over and over that it's a bad idea to get attached. He isn't going to be the one to do anything to hurt her or any of his allies. Jory wants all of them to win together, that's why he's been so adamant about teaching them to defend themselves. Not so deep down, Jory knows this isn't possible but that doesn't mean he's willing to think about that right now. He should be competitive with the other tributes, not with Sinead. She's on his side.
Rion Dehart, 12, District 11 Male
Rion has never felt less like himself, but he knows that this is the point of the interview. He can't risk saying the wrong thing or even making any illusion to thinking the wrong thing. His life depends on being perfect enough to hopefully attract a couple of sponsors. Rion knows that he's putting too much pressure on himself, but there is no other choice. He's already the youngest tribute here; his sponsor prospects are next to zero. One wrong word could send them running towards the other tributes, but he also hopes that one right word might draw more in. It's too bad that none of the words coming out of his mouth are even close to right.
"What do you think your greatest strength will be going into the arena tomorrow?" Leon asks and Rion begins wracking his mind for some kind of answer. He could say that he's fast, but that wouldn't be entirely true. A lot of the other tributes are probably faster, and maybe they already gave that answer. He could say that he's learned how to find food, which is true but not all that impressive.
"I'm smarter than people think," Sadira says, tilting her chin up as she answers. Rion wants to be glad that she's doing so well in the interview, but it's only highlighting how badly he is failing. All of her answers sound good and she doesn't look nearly as terrified as he's sure that he does. Rion doesn't want to be jealous, but he is. "I know how not to get caught."
Leon turns to Rion expectantly, and he knows that thinking time is up. "I know how to survive."
Rion internally cringes at his answer, but it's too late to come up with something better. Leon seems to have a similar opinion of the response, and decides to prod a bit further. "Care to elaborate?"
"Food," Rion says too quickly. "I can find it, I think. Even if I can't, I know how to be hungry. It's kind of the normal where I'm from."
He bites his lip to keep from saying more but, judging by the surprise on Leon's face, he's already blown that answer too. After the first couple of questions, Rion wanted more chances because he thought he could make up for a few bad comments. At this point, though, Rion just wants today to be over. Sadira might be able to pick up a couple of sponsors, but Rion isn't too hopeful for himself. Announcing to an audience full of the richest Capitol citizens that he comes from poverty isn't likely to gain him any favour. He should have practiced more with Fanchon and he's certain that she'll feel the same way when they get back to the apartment.
"Wonderful," Leon says, nodding away from him to gaze at the audience. Rion's comment only garners a few polite claps, and he feels even more mortified to still be sitting here. He resists the urge to hide his face in his hands and tries to keep a smile on his face, but it's a losing battle.
Several more questions about the start of the games pass him by, and Rion can't seem to get the hang of responding. Everything either feels fake, weak, or some combination of both. He looks over at Sadira, who meets his eye with a slight look of concern. Rion shakes his head slightly, just enough to hopefully tell her that no, he's not okay but that she shouldn't worry about him.
"Final question," Leon announces, and even he seems to be just barely holding onto his upbeat demeanour. "In the coming days, what will you miss the most about the Capitol."
"Nothing," Rion says automatically, unable to even think to keep the disdain out of his voice. His face feels hot as he realizes what he's said and the hushed whispers start to spread through the audience. Across from him, Sadira's eyes are wide as she takes in what he's done. "I mean, nothing. Like there are too many things that I'll miss."
"I'm not sure we understand, Rion," Leon chuckles, but even his laughter feels forced.
Rion feels like he is going to throw up and no words come to his mind to explain what he said. It's not that he didn't mean it, he definitely did, but he did not mean to say it out loud. He opens his mouth to try and flounder his way out of this, but it's Sadira that speaks instead. "The Capitol has been so wonderful. It's a lot different than home, and we've been treated so well during our time here. Rion's just trying to say that he couldn't possibly choose just one thing he'll miss. I agree with him, too."
Rion is glad that she said something so he didn't have to, and a few scattered cheers let him know that she succeeded more than he probably would have. A sharp tone cuts their time off and Rion has never been so happy to say goodbye. Sadira waves at the crowd as they walk off, but he only just manages to keep up his smile as they disappear behind the curtain.
"I'm sorry," he whispers to Sadira's back as they are led down the hallways towards the elevators. "I didn't mean it."
"Stop," Sadira says, spinning around to face him. The Peacekeeper clears his throat to get them moving again, but she puts up a hand telling them to give her a minute. To Rion's surprise, they actually listen to her. "It's over. It doesn't matter anymore."
Rion hugs his arms around himself and nods, but his breaths still come in short gasps. Sadira grabs him by the shoulders and squeezes so tightly he wonders if she is just going to kill him now. At this point, Rion isn't even sure he would care. Their last chance to gain sponsors is ruined and he only has himself to blame.
"Get it together. Did tonight go perfectly? No. Do I wish you wouldn't have said what you said? Yes. Do I think you're a badass for saying that on national television? Kind of. Regardless, there's nothing we can do about any of that now. Let's just go upstairs."
"You think I'm a badass?" Rion asks with a quick laugh. She doesn't seem mad, frustrated yes, but not mad enough to kill him or even leave him behind it seems. That's a better reaction than he could have hoped for.
"You basically told them you hate it here," Sadira snorts, shaking her head with a half-smile. "If I would have known you were going that route, I would have told them to go screw themselves."
"Really?" Rion asks. That's something that he would have expected her to say on the train, but not today. They've both grown up a little since then, even if neither of them really wanted to. It's kind of nice to be thrown back to a time when joking around was their normal and things didn't feel so strained between them.
"No," Sadira admits. "But I would have wanted to."
A/N: Hi, hi. That's all for interviews, and I know I didn't focus very much on the actual questions but I thought there were more important moments to capture here with these particular tributes. I hope you all enjoyed it regardless. Next chapter will be taking place right after interviews during the tributes' final night in the Capitol. After that all we have left is the launch chapter and then we'll start saying some hard goodbyes. Thanks to everyone still reading along, I really appreciate it!
Have your opinions of these 4 tributes changed (Aristona, Verdana, Jory, Rion)?
The poll to vote on your favourite tributes is still up on my profile, so if you haven't already done so please cast your votes. The next chapter will be up in a few days!
~ Olive