.

Deception and perfection are wonderful traits.

One will breed love; the other, hate.

Tess Adrique, Capitol Interviewer, 19

Smoothing my dress and exhaling shakily, I stare out at the screaming crowd. It's scary to know that in a matter of moments, I'll be out there, waving and presenting the tributes – the very tributes! – to these people. It's enough to make any girl queasy.

Some might say that I have a stage presence, my voice rich and smile put together perfectly. But in reality, I'm not that, I'm not any of that. I'm a girl who would much rather stay at home digging into a carton of soft yogurt, staring at the screen as a more extroverted person takes the reigns.

"Hey." The soft voice comes behind me, and I swivel to see, of all people, Hestia Verbana, a mentor for District Two. She smiles softly.

"H-Hestia?" I trip over my words. "I mean, um, Mrs. Verbana? What are you doing here?"

She smiles blankly. Her eyes are vacant. "You can call me Hestia, that's fine," she replies. "I'm here to wish you luck. I know how difficult your first time as an interviewer must feel."

I blink back an emotion and stare at her, into her liquid brown eyes. Is she being honest? "Why would you ever come to wish me good luck?" I ask, trying unsuccessfully to keep the awe out of my voice. "I mean, you must hate me. I'm here to send the k-kids off to their deaths!"

"Shush, Tess," Hestia says soothingly. "You're just a kid yourself. You deserve to live out the rest of your childhood in peace, not be paraded around like an animal." She notices the stress in my eyes. "That's what they're going to do, Tess. They're looking for a show. Can you deliver?"

"N-No, I can't," I stammer, beginning to panic. But she's there, rubbing my shoulder and purring out a new command, sweet as pie.

"When the cameras spotlight you, I want you to smile. Largely. Cheesily. Amazingly. However you want. If you fail to give them what they want…" she trails off, standing up straighter.

"Why are you so concerned about me?" I ask suddenly. It's almost suspicious. Aren't victors supposed to hate Capitol people, from what the ones from Nine and Ten have told me - or, rather, spat at me?

Hestia smiles lightly. "I have children of my own. I know how difficult it is, when you're only small, to present yourself in front of the world." Pain flashes in her eyes.

"Thank you," I say, my long white eyelashes fluttering as I try to blink back actual tears. "I barely know you, and yet, y-you've been so kind to me."

"It's what I do. Now, get out there, make us all smile. Don't let them corrupt you, okay?" Another smile, this one more genuine and less pained.

And all too soon I'm shoved out onto the stage, into the spotlight, and I'm blinking away spots as quickly as I can. "Welcome, Panem!" The words burst free from my lips, and I hurriedly smooth down my shimmering black dress, rushing over to the duo of plush chairs.

"Why beat around the bush when we can get straight to the tributes, am I right? No need for a witty line when we have the actual people, right here!" I know I'm running my mouth off, but it's like I have no control of myself onstage; a more extroverted, knowing person takes over.

"Let's start with Carisa Lenette, shall we?" I beam broadly, motioning to the alcoves where Carisa starts striding out in a tight sapphire blue dress, fluttering way above her knees. Her silvery high heels click against the marble floor, matching the slim silver headband festooned in her brunette hair.

"Hello, Mrs. Adrique," she says in a deadpan voice, to which I respond, "Call me Tess!"

"Alright, then, Tess." Carisa shakes my hand and plops down on the chair, eyes glistening as she waits for my first question.

And just like that, the bar is set. Will I achieve? Or will I fail utterly, to be sent to my execution? Like Hestia said, can I deliver?

Here we go.

Carisa Lenette, District One

"What went through your mind at the Reaping, Carisa?"

I smile lightly, trying not to relive the memories. "I thought that I'd try and win for myself, my family, and of course, my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Tess's voice picks up, presumably with interest. "What's his name? What's he like?"

"Hollis," I reply slickly, sticking my nose in the air. "He's fully supportive of my volunteering, and he knows that it's something I need to do. Problem?"

"Problem? Definitely not," she says, voice now on edge and tense. Ooh, she's easy to break down. "Care to tell me about your dramatic show, with your little pal Soren, there?"

I stifle an indignant growl, instead, concealing it with a stiff smile. "He's not my pal, will never be. There's nothing more to say about him. He's just a stupid stalker who can't stop until he gets his way. Nothing more to say," I repeat.

Tess nods slightly, drumming her fingers on her leg. "Really," she murmurs. "It sure seemed like there's more to say, doesn't there? Or is there something that you're hiding from us, Carisa?"

Though I realize fully that I could milk this, making Soren appear as more than a simple person from my past, make this to my advantage, I don't. I don't because it's not about him, it's about me. And if Tess doesn't understand that, well, then it's her own bloody fault.

I grin stiffly. "It's not about him, Tess," I tell her in an almost mocking voice that proves I'm more intelligent than this preteen who was shoved on the stage to interview me.

"Of course not," Tess replies smoothly, calmly, "though I wonder why you're being so secretive, Carisa…"

Tossing my hair back, the words flow from my mouth easily, my temper getting the best of me. "Cork it."

Soren Valen, District One

Carisa flounces off the stage, cheeks flushed and expression angry. She passes me, scowls, and gives me a threatening push, which makes my body collapse to the ground, onto the hard, shimmering black stone, just as Tess hollers out, "Soren Valen, everybody, the dashing fellow from One!"

I scramble to my feet, ignoring the confused expressions of Eidra and Wraith behind me, and dash onto the stage, wiping off the knees of my black slacks as I go along. They're paired with a simple brick-red shirt and a nice fat black tie, rounding out my look.

"Soren!" Tess says happily, sitting down and beckoning for me to follow. "How are you on this fine night?"

"Can't be better," I grit my teeth, nodding to her.

"Excellent," she gurgles, not grabbing my sarcasm. "Let's get down to business, huh? You saw Carisa's response to your show at the Reaping- what's your side of the story, then?"

I furrow my brow, lacing my fingers together. "To be honest, I actually sort of regret it now," I lie for the cameras, hoping that a not-so-creepy angle will make me more desirable. "Um, Carisa's proven nothing except that she can't handle attention and pressure. Her interview showed that."

It's like a raw slap to my skin, to diss her like this.

"Really!" Tess looks surprised. "What's your relationship with her?"

I pause for a moment – what are we, me and Carisa?

"I suppose," I begin slowly, dreading the words to come. "that, maybe, we're ex-lovers… a relationship turned sour with time. And, once again, Carisa couldn't handle that. All I was trying to do… all I ever was trying to do…"

"Yes?" prods Tess.

"I only wanted to protect her."

Eidra Nevett, District Two

After a tearful Soren brushes by me, fluttering the loose skirt of my otherwise skintight red dress, I turn to Wraith, smirking slightly. "Carisa's gonna be driven mad by that, you know."

"All the better for you, I suppose," he says coolly.

I frown, about to make a comment when Tess calls out my name with applause following it. Carefully striding out onto the stage, balancing on the wobbly red heels, I offer a beam and a flip of my loose, wavy hair.

"Welcome, Eidra," says Tess warmly, giving me a quick hug. "How's the Capitol's favorite brunette?"

Favorite brunette. That means I'm better than Carisa, Maya Verone, Cayley Torelli, and all the rest of the brown-haired girls. A little ego boost is just what the doctor ordered. I lock my spine, grinning. "Fabulous, thanks!"

"The Capitol – and probably the rest of Panem, too – has been dying to know how you pulled off that ten!" Tess laces her fingers together. "It's not a secret how you're in the top half of your alliance, you know."

"It's not a secret to me, either," I playfully stage-whisper to her. After the audience gives off some chuckles, I flap my hand and shake my head. "No, actually, I think my alliance is quite well-rounded. Getting eights and tens, after all!"

Tess's eyes sparkle. "So you don't think that you're in the upper half of the so-called infamous 'Careers'?"

I'm trapped suddenly. To say yes, and be considered an arrogant, typically cocky tribute? Or say no, and be considered a pathetically insecure girl?

"Well, I certainly don't doubt my abilities," I remark flippantly, "but I also don't wanna appear like a self-absorbed freak, so I believe I'll cut off there, yes?"

And when she laughs, I know my choice has been the correct one.

Wraith Elvery, District Two

My vision is hazy, head just a tad dizzy from all the overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells. The crowd roars. It reeks of pretentious perfumes and buttery treats. Behind me, Ellika Mayes fidgets and bluntly glares when I lock eye contact with her.

Eidra struts off the stage, confident in her swagger and herself, obviously. Her fingertips brush across the lapel of my midnight blue tuxedo top and she breathes out. "Good luck!"

I straighten my silky white tie and blink a couple times, rolling my shoulders back as my name is announced.

I swear, every eye in Panem and is on me as I stride out to meet Tess, the girl looking very pale and somewhat younger than me. "Welcome, Wraith," she greets me in a rich tone.

"Hello," I welcome her back, giving her a polite handshake. I'm quick to take my seat, in which the chair is plush and comfortable.

She stares at me for a moment with unwavering, piercing eyes. "You're a bit of a mystery," she murmurs.

I chuckle. "How so? I believe I'm an open book."

She squints slightly. "I'm trying to figure out a good starter for you… How about the unorthodox appearance?"

"I'm pale and not as muscular as I could be, thanks," I counter, waving her jab off easily. "What about yours?"

The audience gives off a collective mutter and small giggles are heard here and there.

Tess's cheeks color and she crosses her arms somewhat defiantly. "We're here for you, are we not?"

"I'd like to believe so."

"Then let's focus on you, hm?" she snipes, nodding briskly. "Um, how about that impressive score, eh?"

And with that final comment, I allow a smile to creep onto my face. Because I know that it means I have her in the palm of my hand. And if I can sway her, who knows what I can do next?

Ellika Mayes, District Three

Wraith passes me with a giddy, slightly crazed look on his face, one of somebody who's gone all controlling and domineering. I roll my eyes because, seriously, he looks like a clown with his cheeks all red and his skin all white. If he thinks he's cool, he's wrong, sorry to break it to him.

"Ellika Mayes!"

I watch the pale woman as she flings up an arm, broadly welcoming me to the stage. I clear my throat, tuck a lock of wavy hair behind my ear, smooth down my silky black dress, and carefully walk onto the stage, keeping my chin high.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ell," Tess says immediately as I get within five feet. She beams. "I must admit, you're one of the most interesting tributes this year."

"Where are we gonna start, my hair?" I snap at her, not willing to be the victim like Wraith was temporarily.

She blinks her huge eyes. "N-No, of course not. I was planning on commenting on that show at the Reaping. That walk up was definitely impressive."

"I didn't sob." I roll my eyes, sweat pricking at my palms and armpits. Man, these lights are bright.

"That's right, you didn't. You showed the traits of a true fighter."

A fighter? My ears perk up.

"Well," I say, quite flattered, "I do consider myself to be an unwavering type of person, if that's what you're implying?"

"Most definitely," Tess responds, blinking and nodding. "You, Ellika, show the traits of not just a fighter, but also of a potential victor!"

Hope. There is just one word for the sudden warmth that floods my body.

Griff Forden, District Three

As Ellika jabbers on excitedly, her grumpy exterior banished, I shove my hands in the roomy pockets of my baggy navy trousers and lean against a wall, trying to remember anything that Candor was telling me earlier.

Be cute? Be alluring? Be intelligent?

I tap the side of my head with a finger, trying to rack my brain and remember.

"Griff, Griff!"

The tall, freckled Career girl behind me taps – well, 'slaps' would be a better word – on my shoulder repeatedly, her glossy pink lips pursed. She looks like a pirate maiden, one that directs a ship. "She's been calling your name for a couple times now, you better get your booty over there!"

"Aye, aye, captain!" I salute her quickly, my legs frantically moving.

Panicked, I dart out onto the stage and promptly trip over my long navy pants.

The interviewing ghostlike lady is quick to help me up, with a warm smile and comforting words. I smile as her hand slips into mine. It's so warm.

"Griff, are you doing alright?" she asks gently, helping me into the tall chair.

"Most definitely," I reply, the kindness of the freckled girl not lost on me. "A pirate maiden just helped me, before you did."

The crowd lets out a collective groan, though I am not sure why. Oh, do I still need an interview angle?

Right. I guess I'll be like my dad. Be mean, cold, and ruthless. I adopt a stern face and stare bluntly at the pale girl. "Get on with it, madam, or you're not getting any supper tonight!"

She stares at me, gaze unwavering. And this time, when the crowd moans, I'm suddenly not oblivious to why they did.

Juno Verdet, District Four

"Poor kid," I mutter. "He's killing himself out there."

"It's his own fault," Merritt says grouchily. "He's a dreamy little kid. He'll be gone in two seconds in the arena."

"Hey, don't say that." I frown, giving him a hearty shove. "You were fourteen once, too."

"But I never thought of redheads as pirate maidens," he growls, looking away.

Griff passes us suddenly, giving me a grim thumbs-up and a weak smile. I want to ask what's wrong, but before I know it, my legs are forcing me onto the stage, the itchy, sparkly golden dress chafing against my thighs.

"It's nice to have you here tonight, Juno," says Tess, gesturing for me to sit down once I've given her a hug.

"Nice to be here, for sure," I reply, nodding at the audience and discreetly trying to pull the skimpy little strap of my dress back onto my shoulder. "Different from Four, in a good way."

"What's your favorite part of the Capitol so far, then?" Tess asks. "The food? The people?"

"Mainly the excitement of going to the Games," I admit, a grin spreading goofily over my face. "I really can't believe it's happening."

"The Games?" Tess's face settles in a giddy expression. "Ah, certainly…"

Merritt Cordeau, District Four

The girl behind me stares at me, hands on her scrappy little hips and eyes hardened in concentration.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I snap, feeling irritable.

"Not much," she comments with a cheeky smile, hiding a giggle. "Nah, you got great biceps, but that's it."

I fold my arms, hiding my biceps from her. I wish my maroon jacket wasn't quite so tight. "Flattered."

I turn away to her incessant snickering, silently reminding myself that annoying people like her were made to eventually perish. It's not my fault. It's not anybody's. We're all going to die, anyways, so what's the big deal?

With a sigh of contentment, Juno breezes past me, winking and grinning. Not about to wait for the woman – or should I say, teenager? – to call my name, I step onto the platform that leads to the stage and march across.

"Merritt, you seem to be early!" crows Tess.

I nod thickly. "Yes, I think being punctual is important."

"Certainly," Tess remarks. "Why, if you'd stayed back in Four, you could have gotten yourself a fine job working with the-"

"I would never had stayed back in Four," I say quietly. "My destiny? It's here. It's to win. It's not to be an underachiever. I want to achieve."

"Really?" Tess seems sort of frazzled by that answer. "You're certain, that all your life, all you would have done-"

"I was set on volunteering ever since I was young," I answer without letting her finish. "Like I said before, the Games? They're my future. Nothing has ever mattered more to me than these."

Tess stares at me, her lips quivering with an impending smile. "This is what we look for," she says simply. "Somebody who devotes their life to these Games."

Maya Verone, District Five

I casually crack my knuckles, wiping my hands on the side of my lacey peach dress. It's a bit pretentious, even for me, and I adore anything fancy, frilly, or smothered in sparkles. Plus, with the skirt of it tighter than anything around my legs, it's definitely going to be hard to walk in.

"Maya Verone, everybody!"

My eyes find Tess, her dark lips quirked into a smile. Without any further ado, I waddle in, trying to balance in the shimmery high heels, and grin as Tess offers me a hug.

"Maya, you've definitely been one to watch," she comments, cutting to the chase. "Do you devote any of your success so far to your district?"

I beam. "Definitely," I reply, playing along. "District Five gave me the perfect childhood to grow up in, and hopefully it'll provide me a great rest of my life, too."

She giggles quietly. "Are you confident that you'll return a victor, and not in a casket?"

I lace my fingers together, watching the lights dance off the reflective surface of my heels. "You know, I don't wanna be cocky or anything, but I do think I have a good chance, actually."

"How so?"

I watch Tess, her alert eyes never wavering from my face. "I'm strong, smart, and I have guts." I shrug. "What more do you need?"

"That's for sure," she says in a soothing sort of voice. "Anybody you're going to be fighting for, Maya?"

I turn to the crowd, my eyes falling upon on what I hope is a camera. "My parkour group," I answer, giving a cheesy smile to the audience in general. "They taught me how to feel."

"Really! Anything else?"

"It's only fair that I should take their advice and let it carry me, right?"

Ezra Jefferson, District Five

I watch in silent admiration as Maya struts off the stage, killing it with her pale orange dress and sassy, curly hairdo. She nods at me, still beaming with her flushed cheeks as she walks past. "Good luck!"

Well, hakuna matata.

"For our next guest, we have the lovely Ezra Jefferson, who has somehow managed to squirm his way into our hearts, both here and in the districts!"

Was that my cue? I panic slightly, whirling backwards to face little Aria, who stares up at me with glassy eyes. Quickly letting my feet take control of the situation, I allow myself to dash onto the stage, and onto the chair, where Tess laughs, taking my hand.

"A bit eager, now are we?"

"Just terrified of the things to come," I say quickly, shoving up the sleeves of the black button-up. "You know, the Games and all that."

"No worries," Tess says. Her voice is convincing and suave but there's a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "What makes you think you won't be coming home?"

I'm too desperate.

"No reason, r-really," I respond, shakily smiling. "I guess I just need an ego boost."

"Well, ego boost you'll get!" Tess replies, leaning in as if spilling a juicy secret. "I'll let you know, Ezra, that you're a Capitol favorite!"

Capitol favorite? I look at her, bewildered. "Scarlett and Kassidy never told me that."

Tess winks. "Some things are best kept as secrets, now aren't they? But on any rate, I'm positive that you'll do well, Ezra. I have faith in you."

I lean back, closing my eyes briefly. "I'm glad you do, because I sure as hell don't," I say, a bit melancholy. "I just hope to merely get my alliance past the Cornucopia…"

Aria Verselis, District Six

Watching as poor Ezra makes a fool out of himself by stumbling over his words and shaking off compliments with vigor, I turn to Halcyon and write something down.

Do you think he'll be a bloodbath?

Halcyon shrugs, his eyes vacant. He's probably mentally preparing for his interview. Maybe he doesn't fare so well under stress. Or perhaps he's just apprehensive in general.

Ezra is quick to stride offstage once his interview ends. He hides his face as he comes past, obviously ashamed of his performance.

The pale woman – Tess, is it? – calls out my name.

"Good luck," Halcyon mutters.

I glance down at my outfit – a short, flouncy mustard-yellow dress, slim golden slippers, two identical yellow ribbons adorning my half-up hairstyle, and of course, my beloved red scarf – before calmly walking onto the stage, avoiding Tess's gaze.

"Welcome, little Aria," she says with a smile.

I clench my notebook in one hand, the pencil stub in the other. She can't see them. "H-H-Hi," I whisper faintly, taking a seat.

Tess is undaunted, merely pats me heartily on the back as she sits down. "Where shall we begin with you? Your training score? An alliance? Your mentors? Your life back home?"

"Anywhere," I breathe.

She smiles. "It was a pleasure to see you at the Reaping, so enthusiastic."

I cried. Was it really that unclear? But what the heck, I'll fake it for her sake- for my sake. Sure, I'll be a pawn.

I nod.

Another smile comes, this one slightly uneasy. "Did it happen to find you any allies?"

"Cayley." My breath barely ghosts the air.

"Ah, the lovely Cayley Torelli! Do you think she'll be the type to carry you far, Aria?"

I pause- is Cayley going to go far with me? Or will we both be bloodbaths, faces lost in oblivion?

"No."

I speak only the truth.

Halcyon Chae, District Six

Aria flounces offstage, still clutching her notepad and pencil. When she passes me, we exchange meager smiles before she steps into the hallway that leads to the elevators.

"You know him as the dashing fellow from Six, but why don't we get to know him? Halcyon Chae, everybody!"

Oh, that's me.

I smooth down the lapels of my bottle green suit jacket, make sure the slim black slacks aren't wrinkled, and that's when I walk onto the stage, leaving a skittish Aspen Northwoods in my midst.

Tess greets me with a kiss on the cheek, and I stiffly stand there until she invites me warmly to have a seat. I stare. She can't be over seventeen.

"Halcyon? You can sit, if you like."

I ungraciously take the chair, leaning forwards a little and staring out listlessly at the audience. They all gaze back, with bated breath. Interesting.

"Halcyon, how have you found the Capitol so far?"

"It's all right," I say.

"And your mentor? Gingham Cleaver's known to be a tough one, huh?"

Glancing at the pale girl for a second, I utter, "She is rather blunt, but I appreciate bluntness."

"Ah, really?" Tess herself leans forward. "And why is that?"

"It lets you know that people know you can handle the rougher side of life." I smile bitterly. "It's definitely something."

"But surely you appreciate people who are kind, too?" Tess blinks her long lashes.

"Not as much," I reply. "I mean, sure, there are the people who somehow manage to get into my heart, and that's good, but it shows weakness. Something that others can easily manipulate for their own good."

It shows weakness, truly.

My past has shown that.

One moment of regret? One split second of fear?

You're dead.

A/N: Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds.

And so we have the first part of interviews; I hope you all are enjoying them so far, they're rather fun to write. :) I may or may not be able to update before Christmas, considering how quickly I'm able to write them, so we'll just see.

Oh, and if I don't? Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and have a lovely Kwanza, too!

Teen Idle is expected to come out in the New Year, once ASD reaches its top three. Should be when the next chapter of ASD is published, or the one after that, I haven't quite decided on the format yet. Procrastination, writer's block, yadda yadda. :p

As always, reviews are like food ;)

Questionnnnssss

1. Thoughts on each POV?

2. Favorite and least favorite interview?

3. Favorite tribute? Least favorite? (Of this bunch.)

4. General thoughts?

5. Chart?