Chapter 6

She hadn't been too sure about her presentation to the Gamemakers, and while Bas had encouraged her it would be okay she couldn't help but take it even more seriously. Clara was finally starting to realise the importance of the scores, the necessity of sponsors if she wanted to try live at all. Nerves wasn't the word she would have used, but it was something within that proximity she had felt when walking into the gymnasium once again. All the weapons, on display and for a moment she stood there pondering each station. She could try impress with various different knots and traps, or prove maybe that she was also a fighter, despite her undermining appearance and stature. Clara's hands had reached for the gun, shooting at the targets and not bothering to look back in fear of finding out she'd failed. She fired a few arrows too, after a small part of her training time spent with the bow and arrow, yet she decided then and there it wasn't really her choice of weapon. The swords had drawn her in from the beginning so she decided to beat up a dummy with it, pretending it was another tribute until the doll was in tatters. She knew she had overstayed her welcome long enough and excused herself politely. Even though she didn't feel too enthusiastic of her performance, finding Bas waiting for her on the other side made her smile.

They had walked the whole building, riding the elevator once more to the roof to sit by the flower beds. What they didn't realise was that they were both supposed to be with their fellow tributes and mentor back in their separate apartments but then they hadn't cared. A sound had interrupted their quiet talk and when they glanced behind them they saw Caesar Flickerman's plastic face beaming down at them from a small television screen inside the domed building. Apparently it was being broadcast everywhere, and they hurried up to it, realising it was the announcement of their scores. When Danny's face came up Bas made a snarky comment but she ignored him as she waited in suspense for her own. Apparently he had gotten a nine out of twelve, which had made Bas laugh. His own face popped up not too long after that, and she glanced up at his frowning face as his score appeared too.

'A ten. I wasn't aware I was that competent.'

'You were obviously well skilled, anyone could have seen that.'

'I didn't expect that score.'

'At least you'll be able to pull in some sponsors.' She reminded him. He didn't reply but Clara knew he wanted to say something back. She was glad he didn't.

The district five tributes ultimately made their appearance, all achieving a little less than their predecessors. Of course they were, she chided herself. Bas was part of the Careers district, and she'd put her expectations to a higher standard that was needed.

When she finally saw her face her body tensed for a second, although Bas' comforting hand rested on her shoulder.

Caesar read her name, and then her score. She blinked a couple of times, finally smiling when she saw a respectable eight. Which was, she was happy to say, higher than all her fellow district five tributes.

In her shock she jumped, landing in Bas' arms and hugging him before recognising what she was doing. He himself then tensed up, his limbs unreacting and face equally shocked.

She retreated, standing back and looking at him half apologetically. He wasn't looking at her directly and knew what she had just done was awkward for him and out of place.

'Sorry.' She said.

'It's...it's okay.' He dismissed, waving a hand away in gesture, 'it's a really good score. I knew you could do it.'

She smiled at him, and the truest and best thing that night wasn't the scores at all however, it was the smile he granted her in return.

'Well, hello. Where have you been?'

She didn't know how to answer but her escort didn't pursue the matter.

'We've been trying to look for you. You got a very good score!'

'Yeah, I...I know.'

'You've got good chances of sponsors. Well done.'

'Thank you.'

She walked past them, Bill smiling at her and she felt the tiniest bit self conscious of everyone else's stares. It was true District 5 wasn't the best for producing victors, but her score amongst others would be looked upon as a competitive composition. She excused herself, wondering about Bas, if he had been congratulated back into his apartment in the same way she had. Most likely it was Danny glaring at him in jealousy of a higher score. She hoped he wouldn't start some sort of bet or deep rivalry against him. She had come to like Bas a lot, despite their differences. Maybe he could even become her ally. Clara looked back, a trifle confused on what the Gamemakers really liked about her presentation. She had used a various range of weapons, yes, but she didn't think she had used them correctly. Whatever it was, she was glad she possessed that mysterious skill.

Clara also thought back to Haymitch, one of the very last to perform. He had gotten a surprisingly high score too, and wondered how on earth a 16 year old from District 12 had done it. In fact, it had been higher than all the Careers' scores too. She hoped he wouldn't get himself into fights with others for the same reason too. He didn't strike her as particularly in want of allies either, but she had noticed he had become closer with one of his own female tributes. Clara stared out the small window, watching the sky melt from a royal blue to inky black. She couldn't tell how many hours she had laid there, awake, but knew she probably was to go to sleep at some point. There would be a big day ahead of her, the last until she was let loose and prey to the torture of the Games. And yet her eyes couldn't close, her mind couldn't rest. Too often her thoughts drifted, from the Games, to Bas, to her home. She thought about her family, if they were asleep already or awake like she was, possibly thinking of where she was. Clara knew, Nina would have bitten her fingernails watching the scores, maybe smiling when she saw her picture on screen. Angie and Artie watching the TV intently before bed. Her father would have smiled but broken down in small tears, something actually quite common for him since her mother had died. She hoped Linda would have comforted him too. It had only been a few days but it felt more like a few years since she had said goodbye in the Justice Building. Since she was home, with the power plants and the small trees sometimes growing edible fruits. Even though the districts in some way were as imprisoning as the Capitol it had a sense of free living. It was the simple choices she had admired best, despite the peacekeepers. Some of them had been more or less harmless, anyway. She reflected on the Capitol's fashions, the extravagancy of every outfit or accessory. Her opening ceremony costume hadn't been too pleasing either. Even though there was hardly a choice in dress back home she decided it was better than being decked out in dresses wider than her bed and make up as thick as blood. For some reason the only incentive to finally falling asleep was seeing Bas again. Why he was invading her mind so much she had no idea, but for the moment she didn't bother fighting it.

'Clara.' Her escort announced, smiling from cheek to cheek. She smiled back awkwardly and took a seat at the table. Breakfast was laid out in rolls, jams and pastries she couldn't identify. Nevertheless she tucked in immediately, closing her eyes when a rich, smooth taste filled her mouth.

'What is in this?' She asked in amazement.

'It's pastry, wrapped in chocolate.'

'It's incredible.'

Although she tried hard not to compliment on the benefits of the Capitol, it was hard to suppress a comment on the divine food. Everything she tried out gave her extreme pleasure and calmed her a little for the day ahead. Clara became full too quickly and too soon, and settled for drinking tea. She noticed her escort was staring at her, maybe on the verge of saying something when their mentor cut in.

'The last day, then.' He said, 'You all have to make an impression, or you could be forgotten. And you don't want to do that. Today I'll each be talking to you about how you'll act in your interviews, and then you'll be handling the matter of your clothes for this evening.'

She nodded with the rest of them, but felt a little disappointed by the fact she couldn't see Bas. Clara also felt a little tentative toward interviews too. While back home she hadn't been afraid to speak her mind, she had no idea how she could answer to questions tonight. As it happened, she was the first her mentor was most eager to speak with, and Clara was starting to grow a little tired of their behaviour. Just because she had gotten a higher score than most tributes from poorer districts did not mean she had a chance of winning. Haymitch and Bas were probably the ones everyone was talking about at the moment, and for good reason too. She knew Haymitch had a certain secret dangerous side to him, she had seen it from the beginning, and she was immensely proud of him. Clara reminded herself she would give her congratulations to him that night.

'So, any idea on what kind of personality you want to portray?'

'Well, I was just thinking of being me.' She said defensively.

'Exactly the answer I like to hear. Some people kid themselves into thinking they can become someone different. There will be certain and particular questions for each tribute, so you have to be prepared to answer. The Capitol doesn't like a stutterer.'

'Okay.'

'And there is one rule to it, that we mentors all should mention. Don't be too honest. Don't say bad things toward the Capitol or the Games. I'm addition to being 'just you', you need to be confident.'

She nodded. Clara was sure that confidence would be the least of her problems.

'Let's try some scenarios and questions out, and see what we get.'

For the next hour they worked on answers to different questions, how she should act in situations and when and where she should smile and laugh. They even worked on waving to the audience. By the end of it Clara felt exasperated with the whole thing, and her mouth ached from smiling, and even talking too much.

The next hours of the day after lunch were focused on her wardrobe, which was something she wanted to be in control of as much as she could. Clara was repulsed by the idea of sporting such an ugly and mismatched dress as their fashions suggested.

'Now, Clara. Making an impression with your choice of clothing is just as important.'

Her escort showed her a vast array of dresses, but she was a little unsure about most of them as she went on.

'I think I just want something simple.' She admitted.

'Simple? But darling, with that figure you could look wonderful in a big dress.'

She shook her head violently. 'I don't think so.'

'Very well.' She replied, looking rather dismayed. 'Actually, there might be something...'

Behind a huge pile of what looked like unwanted dresses was a sleek blue dress, with minimal amount of glittery accessory and certainly her definition of simple.

'I like that.' She said instantly.

'Are you sure? You could really make a memorable impression in one of the dresses-'

'No,' Clara interrupted, 'that's one's perfect.'

She took the dress in hand, her eyes scanning the length of it. It really was simple, but a charming shade of blue she couldn't help like.

'Well, you're stylist will make you up like the beautiful woman you are. Go on, she's through there.'

Clara thanked her escort and entered the room opposite, where her stylist smiled expectantly at her.

'Good choice. Most tributes want something big and loud. This will look very flattering on you.'

'I don't want to look amazing. I just want to still look like myself.'

'I know what you mean. Come on.'

After a whole day of answering questions, staring at dresses until her eyes bled and getting ready Clara wanted nothing more than to collapse onto that inviting bed of hers. And yet she still had to get the actual interview over with.

She had been worried at first at how her stylist would make her up, powder her cheeks the colour of porcelain and give her long eyelashes with jewels glittering on them. However, when she looked in the mirror she was surprised that her face looked almost completely natural as it usually was, no exaggerations on her cheeks or lips or hair. Simple, like her dress. Her eyelids were sparkling and her lips a bright red but it wasn't too overdone. She was beyond pleased with the result and thanked her stylist hugely for not making her look like a fool.

'Some stylists do, some don't. You're just lucky you have me.'

Clara stared at the face looking back at her, someone almost foreign. Her hair was curled around the frame of her face and her nails were a matching shade of blue as her dress. In it, she felt as comfortable as she had hoped her dress would be. It wasn't heavy or ridiculous, it was sleek velvet that cut just above her ankles.

Finally, they were sent backstage, where all the tributes were lined up in order of district. She saw Haymitch first, giving him her congratulations as she had promised.

'Thanks. Are you nervous?' He asked. Clara glanced toward the open curtain to the stage, glimpsing a tiny portion of the crowd. She hadn't realised her stomach had been doing flips until then.

'A tiny bit. I'm more concerned that I won't fall in these high heels.'

Haymitch looked down at her feet and laughed. 'Yes, I imagine you should be.'

'I don't think I could think of anything more embarrassing.'

'Don't worry, I'll just have to catch you when you fall.' He said. She couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or sincere, but never found out anyway.

'I don't think you'll fall tonight.' A voice said behind her. She turned to see Bas, smiling just a fraction at her. She returned it, almost forgetting Haymitch was there. Bas had a way of making her abandon conversations with others.

'You look dashing.' She laughed.

He stared down at his plain black suit.

'Yeah well, the only way I allowed them to vary it was to have this weird ribbon here instead of a tie.'

'You suit it.'

His hair looked even fluffier than usual, his face properly clean shaven.

'You look beautiful.' He said in return.

She looked down at herself.

'Thank you.'

His eyes twinkled at her, and she stepped closer to him. They didn't speak, just studied each other for a while. Pauses like this in the middle of their conversations had grown to become quite common.

They were staring at each other for so long the crowd started cheering raucously as Ceasar Flickerman walked onstage with a giant grin. They turned to watch, their bubble bursting with sound from the stage.

'You'll be one of the first to go on.' She said.

'What? I can't hear you.'

She leaned up on tiptoe, so close to his skin it was hard to keep her balance.

'You'll be great.' She whispered. He smirked at her.

'I hope it doesn't last long. I'm not good with crowds.'

'I can tell.' She said, as they both moved further away from the line of tributes.

'I can never understand how all these people are so entertained by this.' She said, watching Caesar smile and make jokes with the audience.

'Wouldn't you be?'

'I don't know. It looks entertaining, I guess, but also very innocent. And we're not innocent.' She said, turning to him.

'They might as well have us all march straight into execution. At least it wouldn't be as painful.'

'Yeah. This is much worse.' She said, watching Danny Pink walk onstage.

'He looks ridiculous.' Bas commented.

'He looks fine.' She smiled.

'I hope he didn't pick that jacket.'

'He looks good in it.'

'He doesn't.'

'Stop being so jealous.' She sighed, enfolding her arm with his and leaning against his shoulder. It seemed to improve his manners.

'And although he was trying to pressure me into an alliance he isn't that bad. For now.'

'Yes, exactly, because a day from this moment he won't be all nice and charming. He'll be hunting us down.'

'Us?' She raised her eyebrows at him.

'Yeah?'

'I didn't know there would be an us.'

'Do you still expect to work alone?' He stared down at her. It was a rhetorical question but one that stuck in her mind. Of course she didn't. As she looked up into his face she finally realised that.

'Next tribute up!'

'That's you.' She grinned, pushing him forward. He glanced back at her with a grimace that made her smile, and when he walked onstage she watched from tentatively from the wings. His stride was confident, his face that mask of anger and recklessness. She felt that intense stare burn right into her soul, even though he wasn't looking at her. He sat down, waiting expectantly.

'Now, now, Basil Disco, you made quite an impression at the opening ceremony!' Caesar began, and Clara smirked at how much he would be resenting the use of his full name in that moment.

'It didn't feel like I was.'

'Well, you certainly did with the crowd, am I right, folks?' He beamed. Bas looked so uncomfortable at the whistles and cheers she felt bad for him.

'Tell me, you are from District 1, you've been working in factories all your life...have you ever desired to become a tribute of the Hunger Games like your fellow Careers pack?'

He paused before answering. Clara knew the first question had already angered him enough.

'No, no. I never wanted to be apart of this. All the adults thought they were safe this year, as they normally are, but this surprise came as a shock I didn't think I'd have to face. And I don't agree with the Careers tributes.'

'Oh, you don't agree? Why don't you agree, Basil?'

'Training from a young age for the Hunger Games...it's like watching pigs fattening themselves up for slaughter.'

Clara held her breath. He knows he shouldn't say something like that, but luckily Caesar played it on.

'Ah, but you're forgetting District 1 has a number of victors over the years.'

'Due to training. I've never had any training myself.'

'Well, it seems as if you had because you got one of the highest scores!'

He quipped back, thankfully changing the subject.

'Yes.'

'How did you feel about that? Was it a shock?'

'I was a little bit surprised, admittedly. I don't think I was expecting above a six.'

'Tell us, what do you think you did that impressed the Gamemakers so much?'

'I threw spears and shot guns from long distances.'

'Well, here it says you used 'extreme accuracy and precision while using the most of coordination and different direction.' He said, flashing a piece of paper to the audience.

'Are you confident you can win?'

'I don't know about winning, there are so many different tributes with better skills. I'm not counting on coming back alive.'

'Aren't you? Well, we have faith in you, don't we?' He announced to the audience again.

'So Basil, about your past, too. I've heard that you had a lover once, didn't you?'

Clara saw his whole body become rigid, fists clenching by his side.

'And that she was reaped for the Hunger Games.'

'Yes.' He confirmed solemnly.

'What was her name?'

Bas looked up, his face stone. 'Rose Tyler.' He said grudgingly. She couldn't begin to imagine the pain he was feeling just by saying her name.

'Rose Tyler,' he repeated, 'we remember Rose, too. One of our favourites as well!'

The crowd cheered. She could see that being a favourite of the Capitol wasn't pleasing him at all. Caesar was laughing along.

'One last question before you go. Can we see you smile?' He asked,

producing a huge grin of his own.

Clara knew they were testing him, especially after mentioning Rose.

'We've seen such a definitive, broody expression from you. I think we all want to know how you smile!'

It took a moment but finally his lips curled up into nothing more than a smirk, which the audience seemed to go crazy for either way. When he finally stood up, Caesar did the traditional exit of raising his hand and shouting his name out to the crowd. Bas was finally let go and he stalked off just as he had come on, his face lit up with rage and his eyebrows furrowing. As he walked down the line of tributes she tapped his shoulder to stop him but he brushed past her without saying a word. What they had just said about Rose had hurt him more than anything and she knew that he was in no mood to talk to anyone. She just hoped he would have calmed by the time her interview finished, so she could go find him.

Finally her name was called out, and she stepped out to be blinded by lights and overwhelmed by the audience. Caesar took her hand and led her to a seat. She only just noticed that his hair was a shade of dark green and his sparkling suit was a midnight blue that almost matched her dress. He seemed to spot it too.

'Ah, both in blue! All the best people are, my dear.' He laughed, half looking at her and half at the crowd.

'So, District 5 top scorer, how are you handling the Capitol right now?'

She took a deep breath before she lied.

'Well, it's wonderful. The people are so generous and the food...' She emphasised, 'is exquisite.' That part at least was true.

'That it is. So, tell us, what do you think of the tributes this year?'

'It's all the more varied, isn't it, which keeps it interesting. Being amongst such a huge number of people of all different ages is quite nice though, because there are adults that understand your situation as well as you do.'

'Ah, so you've made some friends already, then?'

'Just a few. Bas...uh, Basil, and Haymitch. Bill too, from my own district.'

'Basil? Wow, we thought he was unapproachable!'

'He almost is.' She laughed.

'And Haymitch, he surprised us all, didn't he?'

'Yes, I'm very proud of him. Such a young boy, too.'

'Mmm yes, but enough about everyone else, let's focus on you. You've received an eight from the Gamemakers, was that a good result for you?'

'Oh yes, I was very happy when I saw my score. I wasn't expecting so high at all.'

'You've surprised us, too. I'm sure there are sponsors lining up in favour of you! How do you feel about this Hunger Games?'

'It's unlikely I'll be the last one standing but I promised I'd try. I think it will be a very tough competition because everyone has so many different techniques.' She replied, honestly enough. Acting this out was somehow easier than she'd thought.

'Well, if you can't kill with a weapon, you'd easily charm a man to death with those looks!'

'Oh, uhm, thank you.'

'Do you have anyone at home, that may be watching?'

'Yes, I have my dad, and my friend Nina. And my two children.'

Everyone 'aww'ed at the mention of Angie and Artie, even Caesar looked compassionate for her. Just thinking about them then truly made her realise just how much she missed them.

'I'm sure they are as proud of you as we are.' He said, taking her hand once more and raising it just as he'd done with the other tributes.

'Clara Oswald!' He announced to the audience, and she managed to smile at them courteously in return before she walked away. She only noticed then that the mention of Angie and Artie had triggered a few tears spilling down her cheeks.