Marcelle Agelasta (25)- Gamemaker
The crisp night air outside the Gamemaking Center is a welcome relief of stress. I grab a shot from one of the Avoxes that are walking around, throwing it back with a whoop.
"We've done it, Rowan!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up in the air. "The Final Eight are here!"
He catches me before I fall into him. "They are. But you know that this means the real work is just beginning."
"I'm not an idiot," I say, hurt. "But we have cause to celebrate. Exactly eight tributes!"
We're lucky only two tributes died in the latest battle. Sometimes, we accidentally end up with a final seven or even a final six due to too many tributes dying at once. Camera crews have been waiting in the districts since the Reaping, ready to interview the final eights' families. We need to have them air before any more deaths happen. I'm sure Bellona is beside herself trying to churn the interviews out on time. The Capitol will be eagerly awaiting them as well, maybe even staying up all night as not to miss them on their first airing.
"I am glad, don't get me wrong," he says with a smile. "But you might want to lay off the alcohol. We won't be taking any time off for a few more days, at least. You don't want to be hungover, do you?"
"I'll be fine," I say, my words a little slurred. "My employees can take care of our dear sponsors." I can't help but spit out the words bitterly. Dealing with the sponsors hasn't been as bad as I thought it would be, but I would never tell anyone that. Regardless of the enjoyability of the work, the station of head of sponsorship is low on the totem pole of Gamemaking. Only those who are incompetent in the Gamemaking room are sent to take sponsorships.
"Rowan?" Bellona's assistant's feather-like voice asks. Her pale blue eyes and long eyelashes blinking slowly and delicately. "Miss Presque would like to see you."
Rowan puffs out his chest. "Alright. I'll be right there."
I narrow my eyes and feel the muscles tighten in my face, despite all of the surgeries and pink dye that makes my face pull tight. What could Bellona have to talk to the head of statistics instead of me, the head of sponsorship? Back in school, and when we first joined the Gamemaking Academy, Bellona and I were partners in crime. She was always the more ambitious of us, but we were on equal footing and always needed the other one's input. Now that she's queen bee, everyone is submitted to her command, even me. It seems she's got a bloated head since her promotion.
I follow Rowan and Aelia inside the building, stumbling past the rest of the celebrating Gamemakers. I can see the flashes of the paparazzi at the street, trying to catch a glimpse of us here on the balcony. I'm sure that the pictures and videos will show up in the news tomorrow morning. The Center is mostly empty inside aside from those that are responsible for monitoring the cameras and picking what is shown live to the audience. And of course, Bellona and Rowan are talking animatedly in her office. On screen, replays of the latest deaths are playing. The pair from One have bloodlust and determination in their eyes. Everyone in the Capitol is predicting a One win, and I can't say I blame them.
I glance over at Bellona's office again. I wish I could hear what they're saying, but the glass walls are soundproof. Aelia opens the door and walks out to the main area, her long heels clicking against the spotless floor. The sprawling blue tattoo on her face and neck glows in the light of the many screens.
"What are they talking about?" I ask, trying to sound unconcerned.
She glances at me, looking up and down at my sun-themed outfit. During the Games, I like to wear outfits that correspond to the arena. Today is a dark orange dress and jacket with a large sun decoration in my hair, my makeup down to make me glow and shimmer.
"I believe they're discussing the Eleven boy's family," she says, sounding disinterested.
I'm surprised she told me anything at all, but I keep my tone neutral. "Do they have rebellious sentiments as well?"
"No. They don't want to do the interview is all."
Ah. That happens occasionally with the families. I don't really understand why; I would imagine they would be proud that their child has made it to the final eight and want to share their support. "What does that have to do with statistics?"
"Miss Presque wants to know what his odds of winning are," Aelia says, walking to the coffeemaker and starting a new pot. "If he doesn't have many fans, not getting interviews from his family isn't a huge deal. But apparently he's actually received quite a few sponsors."
"I know that!" I exclaim, losing my balance and almost falling over. I catch myself on a chair and glare at the pair, still holed up in the office. "The sponsors like his take no shit attitude and the story about his father! I could have told her that."
In the corner of the room, Aleia raises a barely there eyebrow at me. "Maybe she thought you were busy. After the interview come out, there will be lots of sponsorships pouring in. Are you ready for it?"
I bristle at her tone. I don't need an assistant asking me if I'm doing my job correctly. "I can handle it," I snap. I plop down into my chair and pull up the feeds of the tributes in the arena. The audience is currently being shown the Nicolette girl running down the beach, the night too dark to really make out much of her face. The Careers lost sight of her very quickly after she ran away, but they haven't given up looking for her, still combing the beach for their opponent. Their bloodlust hasn't been sated, it seems.
There are also feeds of the street parties that are happening all over the Capitol, of rabid fans celebrating their favorites making it into the final eight. I watch the partygoers intensely, noticing that many are wearing sapphire necklaces similar to Tiffany Silk's token in the arena. It seems it's become a commodity for One fans. Others have dyed parts of their hair purple like the Eight boy. Twelve-year olds don't often make it far in the Games, but I'm starting to suspect we may be looking at our youngest ever victor. Tag Nylon has his admirers and the training score to pull it off if he so desires.
The fact that the Peacekeeper had to die is a shame. He would have made a fine victor, especially since he was from Six. He would have been a call to Peacekeeping for young people all over Panem, a nice poster boy for the military. But I guess it just wasn't written in the stars. As for the Twelve girl, I don't think anyone really expected her to win or that she had any die-hard fans, so not as much of a loss there.
As I switch back to watching the arena, watching as the Cato boy from Two tries to walk with his new splints. He's doing much better now that his mentors have finally delivered the medicine he needed. He might actually recover and pull off the win. He'll surely have irrefutable damage to his back and possibly his shoulder, but that is expected of any Hunger Games victor. In the background, I hear Aelia pouring two cups of coffee, then the clicking of her heels as she makes her way back to the Head Gamemaker's office. I watch out the corner of my eye as she hands Bellona her coffee, and then the other to Rowan, their mouths moving quickly as Bellona shows him something on her tablet. What could they be talking about?
Rowan Loukios (28)- Gamemaker
As I blow on my coffee to cool it, Bellona pulls up the interview of Cassius Cato. The unedited interviews have been arriving slowly for the past ten minutes, ready for Bellona's scrutiny. Cassius is standing standing in what looks like his living room in Victor's Village, the chandeliers on their highest setting and his plush velvet couch spotless. An uncomfortable smile is on his face, which isn't the norm for our beloved Cassius. Like most male victors from the masonry district, the Capitol loves Cassius for his confidence, bloodlust, and physical strength. He's never given a bad interview or dropped his cocky persona in front of any cameras, even when he must have been tired of being bombarded by paparazzi and fans. I always thought he was just a fantastic actor, but watching him talk about his younger brother makes me wonder if he just enjoys positive attention.
"I have full confidence that Hadrian will make a full recovery," he says with an unconvincing smile. "He's the best trainee to come out of the Academy in years, and it's been a fantastic decade for District Two as it is. He'll come back home and make us all proud."
"Do you think he can match the strengths of the tributes from One?" the interviewer asks softly behind the camera. Before the interviews are televised, the actual question will be cut out, but we're watching the unedited clip.
Cassius' smile falters a little at the question, his face hardening. "I have no doubt that he will dominate all of his opponents. I have heard that Tiger Emerald is the cousin of one of the tributes I killed, Blush Emerald. And I am hear to say that I don't regret killing her, and Hadrian won't regret killing Tiger when the time comes." The grin returns to his face, looking more real than ever. "But of course, District Two will remain on good terms with One and hope to ally with them in next year's Games."
Apparently, that was enough footage for the camera crew, who shuts off the camera.
"District One won't be happy," I murmur.
"They'll forget about it by next year," Bellona dismisses me. "The Career districts know they need each other to stay alive. Besides, the audience loves a little drama."
"This could backfire on us," I try to explain as the camera starts up again, this time showing Hadrian's parents on the couch. "Studies show that when Career districts have feuds before the final eight, the next Games are almost always affected by it."
"It's a friendly rivalry," Bellona says, green eyes fixed on the screen. "Now watch."
"We're very proud of Hadrian and everything that he's accomplished," Hadrian's mother says. Her hands are clasped in her lap, her ankles crossed. It's easy to tell she's unused to giving this kind of interview, where he son is in bad shape instead of a favorite to win.
"With determination and hard work, he can pull himself back up," his father says seriously, as if Hadrian himself would hear these words in the arena. "He just needs to remember why he's there and what he's working towards. "He's a good boy. He'll be back home with us in no time."
The camera shuts off again. It's not much to work with, but the words themselves hold enough meaning to make up for it. I've worked as a Gamemaker long enough to know that Hadrian's parents are now grappling with the realization that their son may die in the arena. Sibling Careers are quite common, but it's not often that more than one wins. When the second one finds themselves in a tight spot, the family usually has a hard time reconciling their defeat with their other child's victory.
"He could still win," is all I say. "He's powerful. And Celia and Cato believe in him if they sent him all of those supplies."
"None of the tributes should be counted out," Bellona replies smoothly, transitioning to another interview. This one is of Tiffany Silk's family. Her parents and sister are sitting in what looks like a jewelry shop. The Capitol loved Tiffany's story about her family's jewelry business, so Bellona must have told the camera crew to film there. In the background, we can see the work tables that are covered in metal and precious jewels. I know that their business must be booming right now. They probably hardly have time to watch the Games.
"Tiffany is doing so well, and we can only hope she continues on her path to victory!" he father say with a grin. Unlike the Catos, the Silks seem relaxed and confident, speaking easily to the camera. "We always knew that she was destined for greatness, and she's the hardest working out of all the tributes in the arena."
"Once she comes home, I want Tiffany to take me to the Capitol to buy all the dresses I want," Tiffany's sister butts in. "I want the silver one."
I smile, remembering Tiffany's outfit for her interview with Flickerman.
The girl's mother shushes her before turning to the camera and smiling sweetly. "Tiffany is the best daughter we could ask for. Except for you of course, Kara," she adds when the girl huffs in annoyance. "And we're so glad that everyone loves the necklace I made for her, but please, slow down the orders!" she laughs, blue eyes twinkling. "I can't make them fast enough!"
The screen cuts to black. It's a pleasant interview, no doubt safe for broadcasting. Tiffany would be a safe victor as well, a natural contender, and a fan favorite. The odds are in her favor.
The next interview puts us right back in the thick of the controversy, as Tiger Emerald's family appear on-screen. Tiger, the Reaped Career. Also a fan favorite, but who is becoming increasingly volatile and aggressive toward Districts Two and Four. His pure aggression and attractiveness earned him plenty of followers in the Capitol, but we have it on good authority that his parents don't approve of his choice to volunteer… or rather, prevent someone from volunteering for him. Those are always tough to interview, since we can't have them seem disapproving of the Games. It complicates it further that they are trainers at the One Academy.
Tiger's family is standing in the Academy's gymnasium as if they are in the middle of a training session, even though it's the middle of the night. They're dressed in their training garb, his mother holding a helmet underneath her arm, her blond hair pulled up in a ponytail. His father has a sword slung over his shoulder and an uncomfortable smile on his face. When they start talking, it's clear that they aren't used to being in the spotlight. Trainers that aren't victors are usually pushed to the side and have to work in the background with the trainees.
"How do you feel about Tiger's time so far in the Seventy-Seventh Hunger Games?" the interviewer asks quietly.
"Tiger has impressed us so much," his mother says, almost sounding choked up. It contrasts significantly with her appearance of a warrior. "We are so proud of him and hope for the best."
"He has proven himself very capable," his father adds. "We couldn't ask for a better son."
"How do you feel about him being Reaped? Were you worried that someone might volunteer in his place?"
The Emeralds share a panicked look. I wonder if they will reveal that they didn't want him to volunteer. But Tiger's father just swallows nervously and says, "Everyone knew that he was the best man for the job. That's why no one volunteered."
Not exactly an answer to the question, but the interviewer is apparently satisfied, asking next what Tiger is like outside of the arena.
"Tiger has always been a sweet, kind boy," his mother says, almost tearful again. "We want nothing more than for him to return to us."
The screen goes black again. Tiger's parents certainly don't seem like someone who would rear such a cold, bloodthirsty child, but their description of him seems off as well. Perhaps they are naive to the parts of him they don't like, or maybe they will say anything that the think will help bring him home. They love him, that much is clear.
Tiger's sister is shown next, her eyes and nose very similar to his. "Tiger was acting weird before he left for the Games, so I hope when he comes back, he'll be back to normal," Gemma says matter-of-factly.
"Weird in what way?" the interviewer asks eagerly.
"Like… arguing all the time. And not listening to mom and dad. But maybe he was just practicing for the Games, so I don't know. I guess I'll see when I start training this summer."
"You're starting training? Did Tiger suggest that to you?"
"I've always wanted to," Gemma says with a toothy smile. "I'm starting a little late, but that's what my parents wanted me to do. I can't wait!"
The interview ends there, and I sit back in my chair with a huff. "Well, that's bound to give people something to talk about that isn't the rivalry."
"Yes, but we can't have the parents giving us problems," Bellona says, eyes narrowed. I can tell she's thinking through all of the possible reactions to Gemma's words. "They are trying their best to be compliant now, but if they start giving us problems, we'll need to have them eliminated."
I laugh a little. "Well, I'm not the one you should talk to about that."
Her eyes flicker up to me, and a fog that settled over them disappears. "I suppose you're right."
The screen lights up again, this time with a message from the Eleven camera crew.
"The Fields boy's interviews," she says lowly. "Watch it with me, Rowan."
I sigh, thinking about all the work I could be doing right now, but I can't refuse her. I don't really know why she's chosen me for this task, but there must be a reason.
The Fields family isn't light-skinned like Tomas himself. Their skin is more like most of those in District Eleven, and their large family is all fit into one frame outside of what looks like their house. The night is dark, but a few candles and some heavy duty lights illuminate the scene. In the background, one can hear the sounds of crickets and insects chirping. A woman and four siblings are present, but it doesn't look like the father is anywhere in sight.
"Our Tomas is so brave and sweet," his mother says, her lip trembling. "He deserves to win and be happy after everything I've put him through."
"Tomas said that he was born of an affair," the interviewer says. "And your husband isn't here. Did he find out from watching the Games?"
"He already knew." The woman's face scrunches, a few tears trailing down her cheeks. "I've done so many things that I regret, but I don't regret having Tomas in the least little bit. He's one of my children, and I love him more than anything, even if Franklin doesn't approve."
"What do you think Tomas' father would say if he was here?"
She sniffles. "I don't know. I didn't know him very well. He was kind and helpful, but he went back to District Four before I even knew I was pregnant. I just hope Tomas knows that this is his home, not District Four. That man may be his biological father, but we are his family. All we want is for him to return."
"Okay," the interviewer says. "What about you?" they direct at the oldest sibling, a girl who looks like she's in her early twenties. "Are you welcoming a new member of your family soon?"
The girls rests a hand on her swollen belly. "Yes. I'm going to name the baby after Tomas if he… doesn't win," she says, also sounding choked up. "I can just tell he's a boy. And dad will come around once he's born, and he'll remember what Tomas was like as a child. He might not be his father, but he still loves him deep down. I know it."
"Tomas should see what his friend Jonathan is publishing in the papers about him," another one of Tomas' siblings pipes up, a teenage boy. His gaunt frame is mostly hidden out of sight of the camera, but his eyes are lit with fear, almost as if he's afraid he will be punished for speaking up. "There are new articles everyday for what he did that day in the arena. And he posts adds so that people will help sponsor him."
"Who is this friend?"
"He runs the newspaper here," the pregnant girl explains. "Tomas works for him."
"Everyone is really hoping that he will win," their mother says with a sad smile. "We haven't had a lot of victors in the past, but we're hoping that this will be our year."
It's a lackluster attempt at sportsmanship, but it can be edited to appear more enthusiastic. Regardless, there's a lot of good material, and not much that we have to worry about.
"I told you everything would be fine," I say, sitting back with a grin. "You tend to worry too much."
"This is good," Bellona agrees, a rare smile adorning her face as well. "They had him choose a side, instead of insinuating unification with Four… and they supported district pride. Perhaps this kid won't give us as much trouble as I thought."
"Miss Presque?"
We turn to see Aelia standing in the doorway, her long eyelashes fluttering. She looks like a fairy with her pale skin and light blue tattoos.
"What is it, Aelia?"
"The other statisticians are wondering where Mr. Loukios is. Should I tell them, or just say that he's unavailable?"
"I should go if they're looking for me," I say, standing and brushing off my white Gamemaking suit. "Call for me if you need anything further."
"Yes, yes," Bellona says, waving me away. Her eyes are fixed on the screen, where another interview is loading.
I follow Aelia out of the office and back into the main Gamemaking room, where most of the Gamemakers have returned back to their stations. I glance on the main screen and see that the girl from Four has surely escaped her pursuers. She's found her way back to where they found her before, at the large rock formations in the water just off the beach. Tiffany and Tiger are still attempting to find her, but they are still on the other side of the waterfall, scouring every inch of the beach. It's been so long that they must know their efforts will be futile.
Bellona Presque (25)- Head Gamemaker
After Rowan leaves, I have no choice other than to wait for the rest of the interviews to arrive. I gave the camera crews strict deadlines for sending me their interviews, but there is still plenty of time. The actual time consuming process will be editing the interviews to make them safe for television. Some of them won't require too many touch ups or cuts, but the outer districts usually need quite a bit of doctoring.
I sip at my coffee, feeling the caffeine enter my bloodstream and give me some artificial energy. When was the last time I slept? I've just gotten a few hours in the past week. Everyone here is making sacrifices for the Games, of course, but I never realized just how exhausting being Head Gamemaker could be. I don't really mind the lack of sleep, per se, but it makes my brain slower and my attention span shorter. I need to be at the top of my game for the coming weeks.
My tablet screen lights up with a notification. I lean forward, setting my mug on the glass table and clicking it eagerly. The screen shows a family of four sitting in a wooden house, in front of a crudely made dinner table. Through the window, one can see the everlasting green of District Seven. I recognize the children from the Reaping; the blonde teenage girl and her younger brother, whose shoulder she is gripping tightly.
"What do you think of Sebastian's performance in the Games thus far?"
I can see the girl's eyes hardening, but her words contrast her expression. "Seb is proving to everyone that he is a worthy victor. We're very proud of him."
"We all miss him very much," Alexis' mother says softly. "He's not our son, but he might as well be."
"Did Seb tell you what happened to his real parents?" the interviewer asks, sparing no time to get right into the tough topics.
"Tell us?" the father huffs. "He came to us right after it happened. Everyone knew that it was him who did it, but no one cared. Sebastian's father wasn't exactly well-liked around the district."
"Some people think that Sebastian is unpredictable or even psychopathic," the interviewer says. "What do you think of that?"
"Seb is not a psychopath," Alexis hisses. "He's sweet and generous. He did what he had to do to avenge his mother, and he volunteered to save Benji's life. And he just wants to protect his ally, not hinder him from winning. Anyone who says otherwise just doesn't understand him."
"Seb is a nice person," Benji chimes in, his eyes wide. "He always helps me with my homework if I need it. And he's the best lumberjack in District Seven."
"Very well," the interviewer says, sounding pleased. The screen cuts to black. Not a bad interview, but the editors might decide to cut out the part about saving the boy's life. The current opinion in the Capitol is that Seb volunteered because he has a predisposition to kill, and that he might even kill his little ally if he keeps defying him. The theory makes for fascinating television, and is undoubtedly better than the truth of volunteering to save someone from the Hunger Games, but it will only work if Seb proves himself to be mentally stable. The country has a habit of adoring violent, unapologetic tributes, but disliking those that don't seem in control of their minds and bodies. The line is a thin one to walk. Perhaps this interview will shine a light on some of the more gentle aspects of Sebastian so the Capitol knows that he isn't a mindless killer.
A few minutes later, the next interview appears. I sigh and take another drink of coffee before clicking on this one. District Four has been keeping us busy this year, from de Luce's sight problems to the Anderson girl rejecting the Careers. I'm not surprised she's made it into the final eight, but we have to make sure that she won't cause any problems for us. There's no reason yet to believe that she will, but the mere fact that she left the Careers is a warning sign.
Nicolette's parents, the infamous Andersons, are standing in their lavish living room in Victor's Village. Behind them is their fireplace, decorated with solid gold emblems of District Four, the Capitol, and Panem. Photographs of past tributes that they have trained and mentored line the mantel, including some victors. The most notable is Finnick Odair, the youngest person to ever win the Hunger Games. Even though they did not mentor him in the Capitol, they still trained with him long and hard before he left, and they must be very proud. I let myself smile as I watch them prepare themselves to speak to the camera. They must miss the attention that they received in the Capitol after their Games, as well as after their wedding. They're considered Hunger Games legends, and for good reason. Joseph and Josephine Anderson, possibly the most lethal tributes to come out of District Four in all of Hunger Games history.
"Our daughter is the most capable of all the tributes in the arena this year," Josephine says without being prompted, her signature bright smile plastered to her face. "She was trained all her life by us, and studied at the Academy from all of District Four's legendary victors. She's a beautiful, ambitious, bloodthirsty woman. There's no doubt in our mind that she will win."
"Why do you think Nicolette abandoned the Careers?" the interviewer asks.
The couples faces fall a little, but they recover instantly. "If Nikki left the Careers, then she had a good reason," Joseph says confidently. "She probably knew that they weren't up to her standards, and she was proven right. The Careers haven't been as impressive as usual this year, and she knew she would be better off with a more capable tribute, such as the Six boy."
The pair have been doing this long enough that they know to walk the line between cooperation and competition with the other districts, and they do it well.
"Speaking of, what did you think of Jason Sparks, and their other laly Eryn Winters? Jason didn't seem like a very capable tribute after all, and Eryn didn't make a single kill before her death. How do you explain that?"
I can tell the questions are starting to discomfit the Andersons a bit, but they stand their ground. "Jason proved himself to be a strong tribute, he was just unlucky in their battle with District One," Josephine answers. "As for the girl, I don't think Nikki was too pleased about letting her in, but she was soft for the Sparks boy. It happens to the best of us," she laughs, looking at her husband adoringly. "But she get her revenge eventually."
"We are looking forward to it," Joseph adds with a smile.
The screen goes dark, and I nod my head, trying to wrap it around the implications of everything that was said. Surely it won't harm Nikki's chances in any way. I know she has a large fan base here in the Capitol due to her parentage and her romance with the Six boy. But now that he is dead, her primary source of entertainment will come from her actual performance, so she needs to kick it up a notch and show us her Career training.
To my surprise, the screen lights up again. I was informed that Nikki didn't have any close friends due to the intense nature of her training, but a boy her own age has just appeared on screen, wringing his hands nervously. It looks like he's standing outside the Academy.
"My name is Dareon, and I'm Nikki's boyfriend. I'm not upset that she cheated on me, I just ask that she comes back home and apologizes to me in the way that a woman should-"
"Are you really Nikki's boyfriend?" the interviewer asks suspiciously. "Her parents said she's never had one."
"They don't approve," the boy says, sticking out his chest. "But our love will prevail. We've only kissed once, well almost kissed-"
"Get lost, kid," someone on the camera crew says in annoyance, flicking off the camera. I sigh and start to type out a message to the editors to cut all of that footage out. The kid might actually be her boyfriend, but the chances seem slim to me.
The next interview is for the twelve year old from Eight. His family is sitting in the kitchen of their house, which is filled with cast-iron pots and herbs hanging in the window. One can see the stars through the window, but lamps light up the room.
"What do you think of Tag's performance so far?"
The father swallows nervously. "Our sons are our main source of joy. We're so proud of Tag and what he's accomplished so far. We hope he comes home soon."
"What would you tell Tag if you could?"
"We would tell him to stay strong," his mother says. "He is so smart, and he has what it takes to be the youngest victor ever. He's going to be a Hunger Games legend once he wins."
"What about you?" the interviewer asks Tag's twin, Spool, gently.
The boy's face scrunches up, and for a second I wonder if he will cry. "I miss Tag. He's the best younger brother anyone could ask for. He's the mastermind behind everything that we do!" He bows his head.
"Everything that who does?"
The boy lifts up his head, smiling. "The Sock Knights."
The screen cuts to four or five tween boys sitting around a round table outside. More lights illuminate the yard and their grins.
"We're the Sock Knights!" Spool says proudly. "I'm our leader, Spool Nylon, but my brother Tag is the most intelligent, charismatic member of our group. We're committed to the old ideals of justice, chivalry, and innovation. Our primary goal is to work hard to support our families."
"What kinds of things to you do?" the interviewer asks, sounding genuinely interested.
"Anything!" one of the other boys chirrups. "We've been making bandannas that are like the one that Tag has in the arena!" He pulls one out of his pocket and waves in front of the camera. "If anyone wants to buy an authentic Nylon bandanna, you can only get them here, at Sock Knights, Inc.!"
The screen goes black, leaving me with a small smile on my face. The kids are cute, that's for sure. They have a healthy interest in carving out their own success, which the Capitol will like. And Tag wouldn't be the worst kid to have as our first twelve-year old victor.
The last interview is the girl from Ten. Filly Marcoffe has only had a few moments of action in the Games so far, but she's proven herself to be strong. Making her first kill certainly helped her popularity in the Capitol, and her family's interview will solidify her position.
Filly's father, grandfather, brother, and another girl are sitting at the kitchen table. I frown at the screen, wondering who she is. Our records say that Filly is the only girl in her family.
"How do you feel about Filly making her first kill?" the interviewer asks.
Her father gulps. "We… are happy that Filly is standing her ground and making her mark," he says unconvincingly. "We hope she continues to do well."
"We miss our girl," her grandfather, Louie, says without being prompted. "And so do the horses, especially Amber. She's the horse that we made Filly's hair charm from. She loves Filly just as much as we do."
"That's sweet. Who is your female friend here?"
"My name is Pinto," the girl says. "I'm Buck's girlfriend. We're very close as well. I just want her to come home soon."
"Filly is essential to the ranch," her father says nervously. "She's the best out of all of us with the animals. She's the easiest-going person I've ever met, so much that I wonder how she's my daughter. I can only hope that she doesn't forget who she is during this contest. I want her to survive, but I want her to stay true to herself even more," she chokes out, wiping at his eyes. His father places a hand on his shoulder.
The interview stops there, thankfully. It's difficult to try to edit crying family members into something watchable, but his words are more easily relatable to the Capitol audience. Filly's father being worried about her individuality is a valid concern, and a seemingly genuine one at that.
I sigh and type out a 'go ahead' to the editors, then shut off my tablet. I finish my coffee slowly, preparing myself for the coming morning. After the interviews broadcast, the sponsors and news channels will be going crazy with excitement. Perhaps the interesting cast of tributes this year will make up for a somewhat disappointing Career pack. The audience loves the drama, but from a Gamemaker's perspective, it's been a nightmare. The Careers are usually a given conflict with the rest of the tributes, but we haven't had any real fights until tonight. Maybe things will start to pick up now.
At least my arena won't disappoint me. I grin to myself as I think about it. The tributes and even the audience has no idea what I have up my sleeve…
I glance up over my desk at the Gamemaking table, where my employees are laughing and drinking, toasting to another successful Games. They might be celebrating prematurely, but I can't help but let the atmosphere affect me. I should be proud. My first Games have reached the final eight. This is a monumental moment in my career.
I glance up at the big screen, which is now showing the Tag and Seb alliance, the boy sleeping while Seb watches over the cave's entrance with alert eyes. This is a monumental moment for all of the tributes as well, even if they don't know it. If they don't survive, they will at least be remembered for this. They should be grateful for the opportunities that I've given them.
Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one will return to the arena, which we won't leave until the victor does. In the meantime, which interviews were your favorite? What are your predictions for the final eight? Thanks for reading!