Chapter Eight

Brooklyn

Later…

After my mental breakdown, River and I laid in the bed for a long time, talking. We spoke about our best memories of Mom, the way she'd play games with us and cook us dinner and dress us in matching clothes and all the other stuff she did. In a way, it was a memorial. A memorial for a woman who'd been shot and left on a dusty street for the crows because she'd tried to save her children from unjust and cruel deaths. Eventually, we fell asleep holding each other, in a way only twins can do.

We were awakened early in the morning by a sharp rap on the door. Tjara. "Brooklyn? Are you up? I can't find your brother."

"Mmmhh, he's in here," I yawned. "We were talking."
"Okay, well, your stylists are here. It's time to get ready for the interviews."

I told her we'd be out in a minute and untangled myself from the sheets. While most siblings I knew hated to be around each other for more than a few minutes, River and I'd formed a bond when Mom had begun to get sick. When we were younger, we'd crawl into each others' beds all the time. If I had a bad dream or failed a test, River was always the one who I went too. So it wasn't uncommon that we slept together. I shook my brother awake and he blinked groggily up at me.

"C'mon," I said gently. "We have to get ready for the interviews."

He nodded at me and pushed the sheets away. In an unexpected gesture, he pulled me close to his warm body. I could feel his heart beating under his muscled chest, tanned from long days in the sun. He still smelled like the boy I knew from home, of sea salt and fish, which he managed to pull off. His arms wrapped around me and we inhaled together. I closed my eyes for a moment, then forced myself to pull away. I hated to, wanted to stay in his embrace forever, but that was not an option. We were tributes in the Twenty Seventh Annual Hunger Games. We had to be strong.

Tjara was waiting for me at the door, along with my stylist, Jin Arala, and my style team. They'd been the ones to design my stunning tribute parade dress, so I was confident in their skills. River entered the hallway behind me, shutting the door to the room, and was greeted by his own enthusiastic stylist team.

We were lead into our own separate rooms. Neither Jin nor his two helpers, Kamila or Austri, were big on conversing, so there was very little talk as I was prepped. At first, Jin disappeared to allow Kamila and Austri to make my body into what they called "an empty canvas." They washed me for a long time in a steamy bath that I enjoyed quite a lot. Various bubbles floated around me and released a cinnamon scent when popped. Although their vigorous washing was slightly painful, I tried to ignore it. I had to be tough. Following my bath, Kamila and Austri shaved all parts of my body again, leaving an uncomfortable tingling in my limbs. My hair was cut and my nails were clipped into perfect ovals. Fragrant soaps and lotions smelling of unfamiliar Capitol smells were rubbed all over my body, making it soft and shiny. A layer of base make-up was applied to my face to get it ready for the real make-up. Most girls would have loved this kind of treatment, but I was just bored. I wanted to train more, familiarize myself with the other tributes and their skills. I wanted to spend more time with my brother- we only had a few days left together. Finally, Kamila and Austri finished with me. They wrapped me in a thin, fluffy robe and retreated to the edges of the room to give Jin his space. The first thing he did was my make-up. It was mostly blue-white shading, covered in a thin layer of matching glitter. Against my darkened skin, the make-up stood out and gave me a ghost-like appearance, highlighting my eyes and lips. I didn't look like myself and didn't like it too much, but pretty tributes always got more sponsors than ugly ones. As Jin worked on me, Tjara entered, examining me closely.

"We need to talk about your interview angle," she began, pulling up a chair to sit beside me. She was dressed in her usual simple blouse and pants, accented with a scarf around her neck. Her short dark hair curled around her neck and head in a stylish, unique way.

"'Kay," I replied. "What do you think?"

"You're a Career," Tjara stated thoughtfully. "But you're not bloodthirsty or vicious. You did not attend any academy or train to be a tribute. You want to be seen as someone who's not to be messed with but not crazy for blood. You don't want to get sympathy sponsors, you want people who truly think you can win. Because you have a chance, Brooklyn."

I nodded, processing her words. It took me a moment to realize what she'd just said. I had a chance, she thought. I had a chance. I had a chance to win the games. To be the victor. I should have been sick at the thought of my victory meaning the death of twenty-three other teens, including my brother, but all I could think of was that Tjara thought I had a chance to win.

"Sooo, strong, ambitious, willing to do whatever it takes, but honorable," I summed up. "Merciful, humane, but at the same time tough."

Tjara looked awkward and it came to me that being both ambitious and merciful was not an easy angle to play by. Well, I've never been one for taking the easy road out.

River

I took a deep breath. In just a few minutes, I'd be on stage in front of a live audience with Maisi Candell, the announcer of the Hunger Games. Tjara had instructed me on what to do, but I still wasn't sure what I was doing. Basically, she thought my only chance was to blend in and maybe get a few pity sponsors. Yep, my sister would be the crowd pleaser and I'd be the wallflower. Just like always.

I heard Maisi announcing to the audience the boy from Three. The audience cheered, but not as much as they had for One and Two's tributes, all of whom were dressed in fancy, flashy outfits that showed off their muscular, fit bodies. I glanced down at my own outfit. While it was nothing compared to my tribute parade outfit, I preferred it much more. I was dressed in a simple blue button-down tucked into tan pants. The pant legs were rolled up just the way we did back in Four on the docks, to keep our clothes from getting wet. My hair had purposefully been ruffled, to make it look like I'd just spent a day out on the water catching fish. My stylist, Calina, thought I looked hot but I just felt happy to be in normal clothes again.

There was a muffled, somewhat reluctant cheer that signaled the end of the interview. The boy from Three appeared a moment later, having been shepherded off the stage. His face was shining with sweat under the bright lights and I felt bad for the kid. He was supposed to be a Career but there was no way he'd survive.

I heard my sister's name announced and Brook, as graceful as a dancer, was escorted onto the stage. Her dress was long and flowing and had the color and texture one associated with moonlight on the water. She looked amazing. I had no doubt people all over the Capitol were already falling for her, the Ocean Queen from Four, as folks had taken to calling her. Next to her, I looked like a street rat.

Behind me, other tributes were milling, talking in hushed voices. I heard someone call my name and turned to see Emmelie, the girl from Six who'd I'd met during training. She and her fellow tribute from Six, Carter, had been open to me joining their alliance, so I did. Emmelie seemed really sweet, but I knew she was very talented when it came to survival skills. For outer districts, she and Carter had done well in their private training sessions, even better than some of the Careers.

"Hey," she greeted me. I noticed Carter hovering a few feet behind her. Although he never spoke much, he was good with the sword and incredibly protective of Emmelie.

"Hi," I responded, fidgeting with my hands a little.

"So, we were wondering, what your interview angle was. Carter's going for a silent hunter kind of thing, and I'm playing the sweet, shy girl," Emmelie informed me.

Before I could respond, I heard the inevitable sound of cheers and applause, louder and more raucous than any other tribute had received. Then it was my turn. "Ah, blend in, probably," I muttered, before taking my place by the door. Brook received a standing ovation before time constraints finally pushed her off. She was grinning like crazy when she passed by me, laughing excitedly.

"Good luck, Riv," she said, placing a butterfly light kiss on her cheek. I'd have to watch the rerun of her interview later. Oh, wait. Later, I had an appointment. With death. How could I've forgotten?

"Yes, yes. Now, may I welcome… River Cassidy, District Four's male tribute, to the stage!" Maisi Candell announced from onstage.

And just like that, I was on stage, facing thousands of people, bright lights on my face, talking to Maisi Candell, just a few days away from the Hunger Games.

The first thing I noticed was how hot it was. The stage lights were already making me sweat, and the anticipation wasn't helping. Numbly, I took a seat in the cushioned chair set up for the tributes. I couldn't see much of the audience, just the first few rows, where I spotted Calina and the rest of my stylists, Brook's designers, Tjara Max, Elleston Ruby (who I was surprised actually showed up) and the rest of the tributes prep teams and trainers. My mouth went suddenly dry and my fingers were running up and down the chair in nervousness. I had to sit on them to get them to sit still. I was so distracted, I missed Maisi's first question and had to ask her to repeat it. The crowd tittered.

"I said, what do you think of the Capitol so far?" she replied, smiling a little bit.

"Oh, um, it's nice, I guess," I replied. The crowd giggles again and I feel my face go red.

"So, you and your sister are both in the games. Quite a crowd pleaser, isn't she?"

I nodded. "Yah. She always loved the spotlight. She deserves it. She's- she's incredible" I murmured. I want to say she deserved better than to die in an arena fighting other kids, but I can't muster up the courage. To do so would be to defy the Capitol and I know I can't do that.

"What about your family? With two kids in the games, that must be tough," Maisi asked.

"They- they're dead. We don't have any other family," I told Maisi.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Maisi said, with a note of sympathy. I thought of Mom and suddenly, I didn't feel like talking anymore. For the rest of the interview, I give Maisi one word answers. When she finally announced my time was up, I could not have felt more relieved. I received a fourth of the applause that Brook did, but I didn't care. I hurried off quickly. Emmelie nodded at me when I leave the stage, but I could tell she was frustrated. I just lost any sponsors I might've gotten. Oh, well. It's not like I was going to win anyway.

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