A/N
Wow, hello, it's been a little while, hasn't it? My apologies for disappearing without warning; life has been tough recently, and then I also had a holiday, so I've fallen a little behind on everything. Needless to say, I am okay (I promise) and I am back! I was expecting it to be difficult to get back into writing after a while off, but there were no problems as I smashed out the chapter in two sittings. It was a joy to get back into things and whilst most people dread writing interview chapters, I had an absolute ball with this chapter. I hope you enjoy!
Riddle Robello, 18, District Two Female
The glossy surfaces of her teeth glimmered under the lights as Riddle forced a smile on her lips. It felt as unnatural as it looked, as her face soon dropped into a scowl. There was no point in pretending to be someone she was not; Riddle had seen it happen time and time again, and rarely did falsities reap a clear reward.
Riddle knew that she was not sweet like Peach, nor calm like Beau. She was not roguishly intriguing like Ragnar, nor attention-consuming like Cephus.
She was just Riddle Robello, plain and simple. She was harsh and critical, but also fair and balanced. She was both a leader and a team player; a participant and an observer. Riddle knew who she was, but what did the rest of the world see? And what did she want them to see?
Riddle hadn't quite figured it out as she sat in front of the dressing room mirror, her stylist having given her a few moments alone before she would be called to await her time in the spotlight. The lighting around the mirror was harsh, casting shadows across the angles of her face, and brightening up the streaks of gold that coated her eyelids and shimmered on her cheekbones. Her makeup also matched her outfit: a floor-length gown of golden material that hung just shy of her athletic figure. Sophisticated and subtly glamourous –two things Riddle was not –yet she could understand her stylist's choice. Though, of course, it was far from the dark clothing and plastic gloves she was used to putting on each night, and that could only be viewed as a positive.
A slight shift in the shadows in the mirror's reflection caught Riddle's razor-sharp attention.
"I know you're there," she spoke aloud, her voice calm. "What are you doing, Ragnar?"
Riddle's district partner stepped forwards, becoming visible in the low light. Whilst his chin was raised upwards with a sense of pride, his hands were thrust deeply into the pockets of his suit trousers as he tapped a foot on the polished floor.
"Oh, we're heading out in a minute," he said, seeming to rush his words.
"And you had to linger in the corner until I called you out to tell me that?" Riddle questioned, turning around to see Ragnar in front of her rather than in the reflection of the mirror.
"You seemed busy," he replied concisely.
"Busy doing what?" Riddle folded her arms across her chest.
"Thinking."
Ragnar's observation had caught Riddle somewhat off-guard, but she didn't allow it to phase her.
"Well there's a lot to think about, isn't there?"
Ragnar shrugged in reply.
As Ragnar turned to leave, Riddle rose from her seat. "Hold up a second, Ragnar."
"Yeah?" he turned back to face her.
"Before you start spouting some bullshit to the cameras, I want to hear the truth from you first," said Riddle, with curiosity. "Why did you volunteer?"
Ragnar said nothing.
"I know you're not from the Academy –I would have known if you were one of the trainees," she continued. "But you clearly know how to handle yourself. Where'd you train?"
"Does it matter?"
Riddle crossed her arms again. "Well no, not really. But a little honesty between allies goes a long way. I don't know how much I can trust the others –I'd like to trust you, Ragnar, at least enough not to have to sleep with one eye open. Maybe you could trust me too."
"Maybe," Ragnar nodded his head slowly. "Ever heard of the Institute?"
The name seemed somewhat familiar to Riddle.
"I think I've seen some flyers," she said.
"Well I own it," Ragnar told her, with pride. "I train other kids there, just like the Academy, only less pretentious and judgemental."
Riddle raised an eyebrow, both impressed with Ragnar's claims and also scornful of his jeers towards the Academy. Though, at the same time, she could hardly blame him for his perceptions.
"I suppose that put you in a strong position to volunteer then," said Riddle, understanding. In all honesty, Ragnar seemed a far better choice for tribute than the boy who had planned to volunteer from the Academy, but who was beaten to it by the boy who stood before Riddle now. "Fair enough, I can respect that."
Ragnar nodded once.
"Guys?" Farley Mir's head popped around the door. "You ready? It's show time."
With a nod, Riddle began to walk across the dressing room, with Ragnar falling in behind her. Their mentor directed them to the room behind the stage, where they would have to wait before their interview. After checking that they were happy with what they were to do, Farley wished them luck and left. He was a decent mentor, Riddle supposed, and he had surpassed a lot of her expectations. The Farley Mir who had mentored five years ago had been wildly different from the humbled young man who guided them now, and Riddle was certainly glad of it.
The backstage room was only partly filled with anxiously waiting tributes as Riddle and Ragnar walked in. They were the first of the Career pack there, other than their newest recruit, Matthew, who sat on a stool, tapping his fingers against the side of a glass of water. Riddle jerked her head towards him, and headed over, with Ragnar beside her.
"Hey," she greeted the boy from Three.
"Hi," he replied with a sombre look.
"How're you feeling about the interview?" Riddle enquired, leaning an elbow against the counter.
Matthew shrugged lightly. "I'm not used to being asked about myself."
Riddle smirked. "Me neither –I'm usually the one doing the asking."
"Relatable," Ragnar agreed.
"I suppose we all can't be as camera ready as Peach, can we?" Riddle commented, though not out of any malice or jealousy.
And as if on perfect cue, the bright smile of her ally from One caught Riddle's attention as Peach waved across the room. As ever, Beau was joined to her hip, with Frankie also close by. Riddle watched curiously as Peach whispered something in the young girl's ear. After Frankie's dramatic score reveal of the first ever zero, it seemed that it wasn't only Riddle's eyes which were focused on the shy girl. Frankie seemed nervous as she gripped her hands tightly together in front of her, but soon a boy with a swaggering confidence walked confidently up to her, offering his arm. She took it with both gratitude and surprise, waving a small wave to Peach as she was led across the room.
"So the Twelves are still keen on taking her?" said Riddle as Peach and Beau came to stand with them.
Peach nodded, though there was a hint of concern in her shimmering eyes. "It seems that way. I still don't think they can be trusted, but Frankie can make her own choices."
"I think she made the right choice," said Riddle, her arms folding across her chest. "She would have been a liability."
"Speaking of liabilities…" Beau muttered under his breath as the room was filled with the eccentric cackles of Cephus.
Riddle instantly found her eyes rolling. She was just glad that she would be one of the first handful of interviewees so she wouldn't have to stand in the room with Cephus for longer than she could manage.
Luckily, Riddle only had to wait another twenty minutes before the screens around them lit up and the Capitol anthem began to play, indicating that the show had gone live.
They waited mostly in silence, listening carefully to the words of their peers. Peach's interview reared little surprises; it was full of romanticisms, idolising the Games as though they were a holy pilgrimage. One thing that did come as a surprise was Peach's mother's lack of support, as Peach told Ludmila Fontaine about her desire to prove her mother wrong. But even so, Peach presented herself as nothing but perfection, ending her interview with glowing words about Beau, which he soon echoed in his following interview.
As Beau wrapped up his interview with a few inspiring words about wanting to bring diversity to the Games, Riddle noticed that her hands were closed in tight fists by her sides. Somewhat taken aback by her body's subconscious reactions, she stretched out her palms, wriggling her fingers. Waiting for her name to be called, Riddle took a final few breaths, relaxed her shoulders and put on a calm, but not too unapproachable, face.
"Now, following from our simply gorgeous duo from One, please welcome from District Two, Riddle Robello!"
Following the cue, Riddle stepped up to the stage, uncomfortable in her heeled shoes, but managing to successfully walk without showing any difficulty. She shook Ludmila's hand with a firm grip, thanking her, before taking a seat opposite the Mistress of Ceremonies.
"Now, riddle me this, Miss Robello," Ludmila began with a cheesy grin and Riddle maintained incredible mental control to prevent her eyes from rolling. "Oh I'm messing, I'm messing. I bet you get that a lot, don't you?"
"Enough to make the joke unamusing," Riddle replied with brutal honesty.
"I can imagine so!" agreed Ludmila. "I'd like to think I have a little more class than most."
Riddle nodded slowly. "I can appreciate that."
"But this is not about me," said Ludmila, with a smile to the audience. "This is about you! So tell me about yourself Riddle –tell us."
Where to even begin? There wasn't much Riddle could say about herself without delving into dark places. She didn't see herself as special, so what could she say to draw in the people of the Capitol?
"I'm just…me," she said finally.
Ludmila sat back in her seat for a moment, with a small smile. After a moment, she pulled herself forwards.
"You know what, Riddle?" she said. "No truer words have been spoken on this stage; not in the many years I have watched the Games. So thank you."
"You're welcome?" That earned a laugh from the audience.
"So, Riddle," the questioning continued. "I heard that you stepped in as volunteer this year. Is that true?"
Riddle nodded. "Yes, it's true. I wasn't supposed to volunteer for the Games –I was a trainer, actually."
"A trainer?" Ludmila sounded impressed.
"Yes, I was a trainer at the Academy. The girl who was chosen to volunteer had an accident just before the reapings, and I was asked to step in her place."
"Why you and not any other trainees?" probed Ludmila.
"In all honesty, none of them were ready," admitted Riddle. "With the cancellation of the Games for so long, things got tough in the Academy. I –I actually was a trainee at first. It was the ending of the Games that made me quit."
"Because you felt as though you had no goal without the Games?" assumed Ludmila.
Riddle shook her head. "No, actually. Without the Games, the Academy became a harder place. I… I felt as though I was becoming someone I didn't want to be. And then my Dad lost his job, so I wanted to help to support the family as much as I could."
"So you became a trainer."
"…eventually, yes."
"And how do you feel now, being here when you had thought you'd put that life to one side?"
The audience was silent; if Riddle couldn't see the rows of mesmerised faces in front of her, she wouldn't have even known they were there.
"I feel like…" Riddle took a breath. "Like I might be able to find the person I lost."
Somewhere along the line, Riddle had wandered too far down a path shrouded in darkness. Maybe it was too late to find her way out, or maybe it was not. So far in her life, nothing had been a mystery to Riddle, but for the first time, she could not see the ending ahead.
Perhaps she was human after all.
Zoei 'Aida' Jones, 16, District Five Female
Zoei's fingers wrapped around her sister's necklace, pulling the pendant back and forth along the thin silver chain. Aida hadn't said much as they stood in the Justice Building, just minutes after Zoei had walked up to the stage. Her sister wasn't one for words as it was, and in that situation, words had been even harder to find, even for Zoei.
They had just stared at each other, whatever did manage to leave their lips was incoherent, but that didn't matter. Zoei didn't truly believe in 'twin sense', but she knew what Aida had been thinking without needing to hear it out loud, and she was sure that the same went the other way.
It had been an instinctive decision, to walk to the stage when Aida's name had been called. Zoei hadn't really thought about the repercussions of her actions; all that had passed through her brain was that she wasn't ready to watch her sister die. She hadn't even volunteered either; they looked almost identical, so to those who did not know them intimately, she was Aida. Upon reflection, Zoei realised that she could have volunteered, but her mind had been so overwhelmed that she had simply acted.
The only difficult thing now was maintaining the lie she had walked into.
Hearing the name Aida was not unusual for Zoei; her sister had been in her life since the moment it had begun –even before that, if you counted the time spent in their mother's womb. But answering to a name which was not her own was still something she had not fully grown used to.
"Aida," she felt a nudge in her ribs.
"Huh?" Zoei looked in surprise at her district partner and ally, Phoenix.
"You zoned out, bruh."
"I did?" Zoei dropped her hand from the necklace. "Sorry."
"Hey that's cool," Phoenix pointed to her necklace. "I didn't notice it had your name on it."
It doesn't, Zoei nearly said.
"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "My sister gave it to me."
"Nice," Phoenix grinned. "I don't think my brothers would give me anything other than a swift kick to the shin under the kitchen table."
"I don't blame 'em," Zoei teased.
She felt a small shove, nearly knocking her off the chair they were sat on.
"My Mom would love you, you know," Phoenix laughed, pushing back a stray curl from his eyes. "I think she always wanted a daughter –sucks for her that she had four boys."
"Ouch," Zoei winced. "Four boys is a curse."
Phoenix winked at her. "And I'm the worst of 'em."
Zoei rolled her eyes at her ally. She was glad to have befriended Phoenix, and Cathy too; having allies she could trust would advantage her in the arena, but it would also keep her from loneliness. That was something that really scared Zoei; being alone. She was independent in her sense of self and she knew that she could look after herself if it came down to it, but the thought of facing the arena with no one by her side was a reality she was not ready to face. Zoei was an optimist, but she wasn't ignorant; she knew that to survive she would one day have to stand on her own, but at least until that moment could or would arise, she was glad she could spend some time with people she could happily call friends.
"What d'ya think her deal is?" Phoenix leant in between the two girls; Zoei was sat beside him, whilst Cathy was perched delicately opposite them. He pointed to the nearest screen, which was live-streaming the interviews from just outside the room. Currently, the girl from Four was talking with the Mistress of Ceremonies, though to be honest it wasn't really talking. Random words tumbled out of the girl's mouth between moments of utter silence as she stared into the space in front of her.
"Fuck knows," Zoei shrugged. "Seems a little batshit crazy, just like her twin."
"Maybe it's a twin thing?" Phoenix joked.
"It's not a twin thing."
There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Cathy leant forwards with a softened expression.
"I think that Circe is troubled," she said with light concern. "There's clearly a lot on her mind, but she is struggling to find the words to say how she feels. She just needs someone who can really listen to her."
Zoei raised an eyebrow. "And you think you could listen to her?"
Cathy shrugged gently; every movement was graceful, almost…angelic. "If I had the chance, then perhaps so."
There was a snort from Phoenix. "I think you'd get more than you bargained for if you went near her or any other Career. Better not make us targets, right?"
Cathy's eyes dropped to her lap. "I suppose not."
Zoei glanced over her shoulder, looking over where, as expected, the boy from Ten's stare was ever present. Zoei could not work out what his deal was, but whatever it was, it involved Cathy and therefore by association, it involved her. That made her nervous.
"Not long now," Phoenix nudged Zoei, drawing her attention to the fact that Circe had left the stage and had been replaced by the infamous Cephus. That meant that Zoei was up next, and with that realisation, what felt like a swarm of butterflies flooded her stomach.
Zoei wasn't usually a nervous person; she tended not to worry about the future, instead focusing on the present. But her life had been full of trivial problems, the ups and downs of adolescence; but now she knew that her actions had consequences, and one of those consequences could very easily be death.
Whilst not yet in the arena, Zoei knew that her interview was important nonetheless. The eyes that would watch her would belong to those who could hold her fate in their hands –sponsors. If she failed to impress even a handful then she could run the risk of being deprived of potentially life-saving gifts in the arena, and that may not just affect her, but also Phoenix and Cathy too. Zoei wasn't sure whether she could take another life, but if her allies died and she had been somewhat responsible for it, then that would be just as much blood on her hands as driving a knife through the heart of enemy. Perhaps even worse.
"Hey," Zoei felt a hand resting on her leg. It was Phoenix, a lopsided grin forming a deep dimple in his cheek. "You've got this, bruh."
Zoei looked at his large dark eyes, chewing at her bottom lip. Phoenix was like the brother she'd never had, but always wanted. He had all the qualities she had hoped Aida would have; all the qualities Zoei had. The moment that thought passed her mind, Zoei felt sickened at herself. She wished she could erase that thought from ever existing; of course she didn't want to change her sister. She loved Aida for the person she was; that was why she had walked up to the Justice Building instead of standing where she should have stayed.
Zoei resigned herself, therefore, not to let anyone down. Not Aida, not Phoenix or Cathy, and not herself.
As Cephus' interview came to an end, much to the relief of Ludmila Fontaine by the look on her face, Zoei left Phoenix and Cathy behind. Her palms were sweaty as she waited to be called, wiping them against the ruffled material of her dress.
"I think I need a moment to process what just happened!" Ludmila took a sip of her ominously coloured drink, laughing with the audience. The delay only risked the nerves returning for Zoei.
"Right, well let's hope that Aida Jones has something a little calmer to show us," the Mistress of Ceremonies grinned, holding out her hand and beckoning for Zoei to join her. She did, cursing under her breath as her toe stubbed the first step.
"From District Five, the lovely Aida, everyone!" Ludmila gestured for Zoei to take a seat. Zoei thanked her, sitting down and wondering whether to cross one leg over the other or not. In the end, she decided to leave them uncrossed, but then discovered that she did not know what to do with her hands.
"So, Aida, what is it like in District Five?" Ludmila began the questioning, taking a sip of her drink.
"It's erm, pretty average," Zoei answered, not really having too much of an opinion about her home district. It was just home and other than the Capitol, she had nothing much else to compare it to.
Ludmila chuckled lightly. "Damn, there's got to be more than that!"
At that point, noticing the likely unintended pun, Zoei snorted.
"Something amusing?" Ludmila raised an eyebrow.
Zoei smirked. "Damn –dam, District Five has a large dam… you get the pun?"
Realising quickly what Zoei meant, Ludmila's lips curled into a smile. "Ah, I see, very clever! I see you're fond of jokes then, yes?"
"You could say that," Zoei grinned, leaning back into the chair. "I'm known as quite the prankster, actually."
Ludmila's eyes widened. "Is that so?"
Zoei nodded. "During training I tied Phoenix's shoelaces to the trap we were setting up –he didn't realise until he stood up and brought the whole trap along with him. It got to the point where he gave up and just took his shoe off –he carried on training with one shoe for ages, it was hilarious."
"Oh to be a fly on the wall," Ludmila chuckled. "So are you quite skilled with building traps then, Aida?"
"I'd like to think so," Zoei nodded. "Although hopefully next time I'll catch something or someone other than my ally."
Another laugh from the audience. Turns out, being herself was the best thing Zoei could be.
"So you and Phoenix are allies then?" asked Ludmila. "It's lovely when we see two tributes from the same district sticking together."
"Yeah, he's just like the annoying older brother I never wanted," Zoei joked, picturing in her head Phoenix's reaction. He'd probably throw some shade towards her in his own interview, she thought. "And Cathy, from Nine, she's so lovely as well."
"What a lovely sounding trio."
"Four –if you count God," Zoei smirked. "According to Cathy, he's always with us."
Ludmila smiled. "I'm sure you'll have a lot more people with you. No doubt your family will be with you, as well as the rest of us. It was a delight to speak to you, Aida."
"Likewise," Zoei stood up with Ludmila, shaking her hand.
"Aida Jones from District Five!" Ludmila squeezed her hand. "May the odds be ever in your favour."
As Zoei walked off the stage, she felt her hand reaching to her neck once more. Pressing the necklace pendant between her forefinger and thumb, she really hoped that she had done enough to give her and her allies the best head-start they could. She had been herself; what more could she have done? It had to be enough, herself was all she had to offer.
Panem may call her Aida, but she would always be Zoei.
Anise Montague, 18, District Eleven Female
Anise was no stranger to the spotlight; in fact, for the past five years she had bathed in it. The sound of cheering crowds was her background music; the rows of eager eyes were her constant view. The stage did not frighten her; it was one of the only places she felt safe. One of the only places where she could hide from what truly terrified her: herself.
Up on the stage, her lips forming the lyrics of her well-known songs and her hips forming the shapes of her well-known routines, Anise was able to switch off from it all. Stepping onto the shined floors in heels which strained her ankles, Anise Montague was left behind and Mariposa opened her wings.
Anise had walked onto many stages in her life, but this was the first time she would be stepping out not as Mariposa, but as Anise.
She was terrified.
Reaching into the folds of her elaborate gown, Anise's trembling fingers found her hip flask, retrieving it a subtly as she could. Being from Eleven, most of the other interviews had already been held, and so the room backstage was practically empty. Only Logan, the two from Twelve, and the young girl from One who had scored a zero were still awaiting their few minutes of fame.
Accel, Anise's ally, had graced the stage nearly an hour ago now. Unfortunately, he had been unable to return to wait with Anise, though in a way perhaps it was better. Anise knew he had his own struggles with alcohol, so taking swigs from her hidden hip flask would have been a cruel jest.
For a moment Anise felt surprised at her thoughts. It was almost as though she had cared about the boy from Six, at least in some minor way other than just caring about his opinions of herself. Of course she didn't really care about him; he was just a means for survival, that was all. A piece of meat who could shield her fragile body for as long as she required the protection in the arena, and also someone to keep her company during the lonely nights.
Accel was pleasant enough to be around, Anise supposed. He had enough natural charm to make spending every waking moment beside him not too torturous, and his appearance couldn't be complained about either. He tasted like cinnamon –sweet and woody, but with a pinch of spice. He was not at all like the smooth taste of Cassian, who had been raised in perfect luxury and whose skin was softer to touch than the feathers of a new-born bird. Accel was much harsher than that; the palms of his hands were rough from his manual labour and the skin on his face grazed by the unrelenting sun. In a way the two boys in Anise's life represented the two halves of her own self. Cassian showed all that Anise was in her Capitol upbringing, whilst Accel reminded her of her district-born roots.
Everything in Anise's life was torn into two halves; always overlapping, but never fitting together.
An attendant called Anise's name. She looked towards the closest screen where she could see that Valak Vatican from Ten was nearing the end of his questioning. It seemed as though he had been making an effort to relax, but something about him made him appear consistently on-edge, as though he were always teetering between boundaries.
As Anise stood up, her eyes caught Logan's. He offered her a warm smile, mouthing good luck as she slipped her hip flask back into the folds of her dress. She did not smile back.
Anise waited by the side of the stage for what felt like a lifetime. The music and the crowd were loud, but Anise's heart was louder. She did not know how to be Anise Montague, at least not the Anise that Panem wanted to see.
Perhaps she did not need to be herself. When had being herself brought anything but misery to her life? Thoughts raced through her head as Ludmila Fontaine called her to the stage.
Most of the other tributes had blinked awkwardly in the spotlights, but Anise's eyes adjusted without effort. Instinctively, she found a glowing smile filling her face as her body took over from her mind.
"Anise Montague, all the way from District Eleven!" Ludmila held out her hand. Anise took it gently, curtseying with impeccable grace. Ludmila seemed taken aback, but relished the action, bowing politely in return.
"Oh how wonderful!" she exclaimed with glee, gesturing for Anise to take a seat opposite her. "What a delightful entrance, Miss Montague. And before we begin, may I just say how exquisite you look tonight."
Anise fluttered her eyelashes, appearing bashful. Her fingers ran across the flowers that decorated her pink sleeveless ballgown, caressing their petals with a gentle touch. It was a beautiful dress, Ludmila was not wrong there, but what she didn't know was that it was the dress she was supposed to wear as Mariposa that very same night, though for a very different purpose. Mariposa had been booked for the interview show, an arrangement scheduled months prior, but that of course had been cancelled. Flutterfield Records had excused her as feeling unwell, after Anise had been forced to come clean to them on her return to the Capitol following the reaping. They had taken the news of her background with surprisingly little bitterness, though their main concern was potentially losing one of their most successful artists, which had shallowed the mood a little. To them, Anise was simply a revenue stream, which she had always really known. She just hoped that they did not try to replace her by putting another faceless girl behind the mask.
Whilst it seemed that Anise had little control now over her future; she was not entirely powerless.
After speaking with Ludmila about her upbringing; careful not to reveal too many details that may give herself away, Anise slipped into the conversation that she was fond of singing.
"Would you mind if I sang to our audience, Mistress Fontaine?" she asked sweetly.
"I would not mind at all," Ludmila replied with glee. "What an absolute surprise and complete delight you are, Anise. Please, the stage is all yours."
With a polite nod, Anise rose from her seat, walking with careful steps towards the front centre of the stage. Her hand slid between the folds of her dress, where she had also concealed another item. Plucking it out, Anise lifted it towards her face, taking a slow, drawn-in breath as she tied the ribbon of the mask behind her head.
As a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, Anise opened her mouth and began to sing.
She sang Mariposa's most famous song; the one which had rocketed her career. And she sang it with more passion than she had ever sung a song before. Words flowed from her mouth like the words of a spell, cast onto the audience with conviction and feeling. As the final lyrics danced from her tongue, Anise bowed her head, and then walked straight off the stage without so much as a glimpse of eye contact with the Mistress of Ceremonies.
What happened in the aftermath was chaos.
From behind the stage, Anise could hear that the crowd had erupted into panic. Demands for her to be pulled from the Games reached her ears, as Peacekeepers and Ludmila attempted to calm the situation. As Anise had exited the stage, a handful of Peacekeepers had rushed towards her, forming a protective barrier around her in case anyone escaped from the audience as many were trying to do. After a few minutes, her mentor, Elpis Velez, appeared. She seemed surprisingly unsurprised by the situation, and pushed her way past the Peacekeepers to stand in front of Anise.
"They're trying to pull you from the Games," she told Anise. "The Gamemakers and President have been informed, and they are discussing the matter as we speak."
"Do you think they'll pull me?" Anise asked, hopeful.
Elpis shrugged. "Honestly, kid, I have no idea. People have pulled stunts before in the past but never has a tribute been pulled, no matter what the reason. Don't get your hopes up."
Anise nodded. She knew it had been a risk that may not have paid off; she knew the way the Capitol worked, and especially within the clutches of The Candid, very few escaped anything at all. But even if she was still to enter the arena, at least the world knew who she was and that meant two things. One: her chances of gaining sponsorship had more than likely increased tenfold. And two: no one else could replace her as Mariposa. That was what mattered more than anything.
In order to escape the madness as the decision was being made, Anise was escorted back to the apartment. Ludmila had managed to quiet the audience enough to continue with the final interviews, though Logan had a lot to do to impress following Anise's show.
As they reached the apartment, a figure was waiting outside, leant against the wall with their head tilted towards their feet. Anise recognised the person instantly as Accel.
"You need to leave," Elpis told him firmly. "Go back to your apartment immediately."
"Wait," Anise touched Elpis' arm. "Please, I need to talk to him. I promise we won't go anywhere."
Elpis rolled her eyes, sighing in reluctance. "Fine, he can come in, but you are not to leave the apartment."
"Thank you," Anise smiled gratefully to her mentor, who shook her head in response.
Anise beckoned for Accel to follow her into the apartment, and he did so in silence as they moved into Anise's bedroom.
She shut the door slowly behind them.
"Erm, so that was…a lot," Accel started, shuffling from foot to foot.
Anise let out a breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"No, it's ok, I understand," said Accel. "Well, I mean, I'm trying to understand. Obviously I'm not a famous popstar so I have no idea what it's like for you. But, but, I'm trying."
Anise smiled a small smile.
"So, uh, I've seen a lot of Mariposa posters and things around," Accel chewed his lip. "I guess it makes sense why I thought her lips looked familiar."
A giggle burst from Anise's lips involuntarily.
"You have kissed them before," Anise said with a smirk. "You can kiss them again, if you'd like."
"May I?" Accel closed the large gap between them, tucking his hand beneath her chin, tilting Anise's face towards his. Anise allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, opening her mouth to allow Accel in. It was just a kiss, but there was just a little something extra that Anise had never noticed before.
She felt herself pushing for more.
They stumbled backwards, Accel falling onto his back against the soft mattress of the bed, with Anise landing a little less elegantly on top of him. Flicking her hair behind her shoulder, Anise bent down to kiss Accel again, to which he responded with a low groan.
Anise felt starving. Her hands were hungry as she slid them beneath Accel's shirt, not caring about the expensive material as she pulled it from his body. Accel seemed surprised at the intimacy, but he did not ask her to stop and his reactions only urged her to continue.
Following the truthful words from Anise that they may both die tomorrow, the two of them made the most of the time they had, and once they were finished, they lay back in the bed beside each other, wishing that tomorrow would never come.
"So, you're not put off me now you know the truth?" Anise asked, resting her head against Accel's chest.
Accel stirred beneath her.
"What, no!" he insisted, moving so that their faces were aligned. "In fact, I think it's awesome. Anise, you're a fucking celebrity, and I'm just Accel Hayes, a fuck-up who works in a dirty yard. Are you sure you're not put off me?"
Anise shook her head, curls falling across her face. "I knew who you were before we even met –I watched you pass out at the reaping, remember? I think that alone would have been enough to put me off, but here we are."
Accel grinned. "Here we are indeed."
There was a sudden knock at the door.
"Anise, they're about to announce their decision!" Elpis called through. "Come quickly!"
Leaping out of the bed, Anise grabbed a robe and slipped into it, rushing out of the bedroom. Accel followed behind her, clumsily dressing himself along the way. Elpis did not need to ask what had happened between the two of them; it was obvious from her face of disgust that she already knew.
Ludmila Fontaine's face filled the screen, and she had the Head Gamemaker, Selene Castellanos, sat beside her.
"Myself and the other Gamemakers, as well as the President, have been discussing the rules regarding Miss Montague's situation," she told Ludmila. "As I am sure you, and the rest of Panem, are aware, we take the Hunger Games very seriously and ensure that at all times, full and proper rules are followed."
"So where does that leave Anise –or should we say, Mariposa?" probed Ludmila.
"The rules of the reapings are simple," explained Selene. "Every child between the ages of twelve and eighteen in each of our Twelve districts are eligible for reaping. We do not discriminate by class, wealth or otherwise."
Ludmila nodded. "Of course."
"Our records have confirmed that Miss Montague was born in District Eleven. Though her father is from the Capitol and has raised her here, Anise's birthplace cannot be ignored," continued Selene. "With her fame and success here, there is no doubt that we in the Capitol consider Anise as one of our own children, but we cannot turn against our own rules. The Candid have shown us over the years of the importance of truth and integrity; without them we would likely be under a tyrannical rule by the likes of President Fabian and his associates. We are fortunate to be led by my cousin, who is far more concerned with the wellbeing of our great country than his predecessor. And we would be hypocritical, if not treacherous, to go against all Panem has worked for to get to the peace we are at now. For that reason, we must adhere to the rules of the Games."
Anise held her breath.
"Therefore, Anise Montague shall continue to act as tribute in the eighty-seventh Hunger Games."
Elpis switched off the stream.
"Anise, I'm sorry," she began, but Anise had already fled.
She was certain of this outcome, but that did not make hearing the words out loud any less difficult to process. Anise stood outside of the apartment, her face buried in her hands as she felt her heartrate increase exponentially. Her palms began to sweat against her face as she felt the beginnings of another panic attack twitching in her nerves.
As her body began to shake, she heard the door slide open and Accel's footsteps rushing towards her, wrapping her in a warm embrace. As he stroked her hair, Anise slowly opened her eyes over his shoulder.
Standing at the end of the corridor, she saw a familiar face.
Cassian.
All at once, every contradictory fragment of Anise's life collided.
A/N
Okay, so a pretty hefty chapter there, my fingers are still sore from typing it.
We saw a little more of a human side to Riddle here. She is always presenting a strong exterior; ensuring to steer the Career pack and show that she is tough, but now that we have had a little time inside her head, I think we can begin to appreciate the rawness beneath. Riddle feels as though somewhere along the way, she has lost herself. Will the Games allow her to find herself again, or will they only push forwards the darker side of her even more?
So we have clarification that Zoei simply stepped forwards in place of her sister, and that is how she ended up in the Games under the name of Aida. Whilst she realises now that she could have volunteered, that was not the decision she made in the moment and now she is stuck trying to continue to play as Aida. Her alliance with Phoenix appears strong, as it has done before, and Cathy seems to be fitting in somewhere too. In the end, Zoei realises that the best way forward is to be herself; will her positive attitude remain once the Games begin?
Anise is torn between her two selves. For the first time, she is in the spotlight as Anise and not Mariposa, but she makes the decision that now is the time to reveal her secret. Singing to the crowd as Mariposa, the truth comes out and there is hope that she will be pulled from the Games. During the wait, she grows closer to Accel. Is she beginning to care for him, or is she still using him as we found out her initial intentions were? After being confirmed that she is still to enter the arena, Anise sees her Capitol lover, Cassian. Will the clash between her two lives aid her in the arena, or will it all come crashing down onto her?
So pregames are nearly over! We only have one more chapter, which will be set during the final night before the Games, and if your powers of deduction are a little rusty, I'll let you know that we will be having povs from Cathy, Beau and Sayuri to finish off pregames. After pregames I will extend the agonising wait with a little subplot chapter, to catch up on what is happening beyond the Games, before the Games kick off with the bloodbath.
Before I finally shut up, thank you all for your patience and for continuing to read! I hope not to have too many delays in the future, but well, we will see what life throws at us!
Until next time,
Firefly.