Review, review, review! It's super special to me! (Just going to do a little dance and brag a bit because I broke the fifty-mark on my Ranger's Apprentice story, it was absolutely awesome and fantabulous.)

A sort of calm settled over me as I stood. I didn't shake, quiver or look around. I walked calmly to the chair, sat down, crossed my legs and put my hands on my knees. My shoes were still burning slightly, and Nero seemed distracted by them for a moment.

"So," he began. "Primrose Everdeen Mallark. It's a pretty heavy name you bear. Would you mind telling the audiences who might be too young to remember, where did you get those names?"

"Ah," I said. I had been worried my voice would be rough but it came out easily and smoothly, encouraging me to continue. "Well, my parents are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mallark, who won the 74th annual Hunger Games. My mom was actually a volunteer, she volunteered when her younger sister Primrose was called to play. Prim was only twelve at the time."

"So you and your aunt have the same name? That must get confusing around the house!" he declared.

I hesitated. Was it possible they didn't know? Of course it was...

"Prim died," I said. I waited for a while for it to sink in. "She died at the very end of the Rebellion, she was only around thirteen or so. Mom doesn't talk about it, neither does Dad. What I heard from others in District Twelve was that the Capitol blew her up, her and all the other first responders..."

Everything was completely silent. I realized then that no one would have known about Prim's death, and the Capitol had been in love with Mom's little sister. The faces of the crowd varied; those old enough to remember Prim had various states of confusion, sadness and anger on their faces, but those too young to remember looked mildly surprised and indifferent.

It was interesting to see the Capitol divided into those who could remember the war and those who were untouched by its presence.

"Oh," Nero said, after a long pause. "I see. Well, I express my condolences to Katniss."

I bit my tongue on my reply, trying to keep it to myself. She doesn't give a damn about yours or anyone else's condolences.

"It was a long time ago," I replied quietly.

"Anyway, Primrose -" he began, and I cut him off.

"Primrose was my aunt, I go by Rosa," I said quickly.

"Ah, I see, Rosa. I think something we're all dying to know is how you feel with your brother being here, too," Nero continued. "We heard from the Benson twins, who said they were going to work together and if one of them got killed off, then that would decide. What about you?"

"It's not going to be a question of which one of us gets home," I said.

"So does that mean you are willing to kill him to get home?" Nero asked, looking entirely shocked.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It means I'm willing to kill myself to get him home."

The audience started roaring and I looked at them, suddenly embarrassed. I glanced down at my toes, which were still flaming, and felt my face flush bright red. I hoped they had put on enough make up to disguise my blush, but I knew that they hadn't.

"I see," Nero murmured, sitting back in his chair. "Do you have a plan?"

"I'm going to stay with him, keep him alive, and sacrifice whatever I have to to get him as far as I can. If it ends up with just the two of us, he doesn't get an option. I have to keep him alive, Mom and Dad can't lose both of us. They just can't." I shook my head emphatically.

"What if you die, and he lives," Nero began, "but he is called back next year?"

I felt the shock wash over me then.

"He can get called back?" I said emptily. All the muscles in my face went slack and I was glad I wasn't standing, or else I would have fallen down.

"There isn't immunity in these games," Nero said, realizing that I hadn't known that. "You can get called back as long as you are of age."

"But... would his name get put in as many times?" I asked slowly, looking up at Nero with horror on my face.

"Yes," Nero said, nodding solemnly.

"Then..." I trailed off, not sure how to continue. "Then hopefully he'll know how to keep himself safe, he'll be trained and he'll know what to expect. He'll be able to make it."

"So you are going to sacrifice yourself? Is there any chance at all you will be the victor?" Nero said. I knew I was probably losing sponsors right now, but there was no point in lying. I knew he was trying to help, but...

"There is no chance I am going to be back here," I said, shaking my head. "But that's alright. I knew it was a risk I would have to face." I squared my shoulder and my chin took on a determined set, showing that I was going to be strong anyway.

A small bell rang out, and I knew my time was up.

"Well, it was lovely to speak to you, Rosa," Nero said, looking up at me solemnly. "And I am sad that there is no chance to have you back in that chair."

"Me too," I said quietly, getting to my feet. I wasn't as strong or as confident now, and I knew my knees were shaking slightly as I walked back to my seat. My mind was still reeling... Ash wouldn't be safe if I got him out?

I sat down numbly, and Nero called Ash's name. Ash rose awkwardly and walked up to Nero, then sat down to answer Nero's questions.

"Ash Everdeen Mallark," Nero said. "Your parents have a thing for naming you after plants, don't they?"

Ash laughed uneasily, "Well, it was really my grandparents' thing. They named their kids Primrose and Katniss, after all, both of which are plants. And then of course they named Rosa Primrose again, and they named me after a tree. Dad really wanted to name me Rye but Mom was the more bossy of the two, so she got her way."

Nero laughed, "I can imagine that. I wasn't very old when she was in the games, but she sure seemed stubborn. That's probably the main thing I remember about her."

"Yeah, she sure does like to get her way," Ash admitted, smiling just enough to show off his dimples.

"So, Ash, your sister says you are going to get out alive even if she dies in the process," Nero said, suddenly becoming serious.

Ash looked down at his hands, picking at his finger nails. "Yeah."

"What are your thoughts?" Nero prodded gently.

When Ash looked up, I saw his eyes were shining with tears. I felt a surge of pride as not a single one of those tears rolled down his cheeks, and I knew he was strong enough... He'd be alright.

"I wish there was a way for both of us to get out," Ash said quietly. "It's not fair. But I'm small, I'm young, and if the two of us are really working together she has a better chance. She's trained, she's wicked good with a bow and knives and she's strong and she's tough as nails, and I know with her by my side at least one of us is getting out, even if it isn't me because if I die first, she better go on. She better get home to Mom and Dad, because Baby Blue needs an older sibling once she gets old enough..."

"Baby Blue?" Nero cut in, looking at him quizzically.

"Oh, yeah." Ash nodded at Nero and continued, "Baby Blue is our little sister. Blue Bell, she's about three right now and she's getting big, she's talking in complete sentences now."

I cracked a smile. Ash had been completely stunned to watch Baby Blue go from little words to phrases to whole sentences, and he had thought it was the coolest thing in the world that a tiny little ball of snot and poop could grow up into a speaking, gurgling toddler. He never had quite gotten over it, even though she had mastered the art of complete sentences over a year ago.

"I didn't know you had another sister," Nero said. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of sadness, or perhaps pity in Nero's eyes. But then it was gone before I could be sure I had seen it, so I dismissed it and continued watching.

"Yeah," Ash said, nodding quickly. "And considering I think the number of times her name is gonna be put in is gonna be as bad as mine and Rosa's, she's probably going to come too once she gets old enough and one of us is going to need to be around to mentor her, and help her."

"Alright, Ash," Nero said, his voice changing tone and becoming a bit lighter. "As much as we love hearing about your family -" the audience chimed in with a yeah! that sounded almost like a yay!, but I wasn't sure, "- let's hear about you. We've had artists and dancers and mathematicians and athletes and bakers come across this stage tonight, but what about you? What are you good at?"

"Oh, uh... um... well," Ash hesitated, rolling his eyes upwards to think. "My favorite thing is to learn how to do new things. I like to learn something just until I'm good enough at it to say I can do it, and then I move on to the next thing. I've drawn stuff like my dad, and I did archery for a bit too, and I played piano once we got one in District Twelve. But the thing I liked best out of all the things I've ever done was to sing."

Oh gods, not this. Sweet baby Jesus, Ash, why did you mention the singing... I buried my face in my hands, flushing with sympathetic embarrassment for him. I mean, he was fine as a singer, he was in a little choir and whatnot back home, but... really? Singing was SO not the skill he should have emphasized if he wanted to get sponsors who were betting on him to murder a bunch of other people in an arena.

"Really? Sing?" Nero said. "Would you sing us a line or two, perhaps?"

"Uhm, sure..." Ash paused, searching for the words, but before he could start the little bell chimed signaling the end of his interview.

Saved by the bell.

"Well, perhaps another time, then," Nero said. "In the arena perhaps?"

"Maybe," Ash said, standing and returning to his seat. John walked up to the chair, and I relaxed.

We had survived the interviews.