Suzanne Collins owns everything, it all came from her brilliant mind (I guess the words came from mine, but it's far from brilliant.)

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Chapter 11.

"Cross your legs, you look like a man."

"Etiquette Clove, remember."

"You do not sit on a chair like that."

"Posture."

"Sit up straight."

"You have a spine for a reason."

"Walk dainter, you slugging across the room."

"Don't slouch when you walk."

"Be polite Clove."

"I don't need your attitude right now."

"Be gracious Clove."

"Strut in heels Clove. Strut!"

"Don't glare, it's rude."

One hour of torture with Athena. I'd rather be in the arena, surrounded by sharks, with my feet stuck in a bolder, than here right now. If she yells at me one more time about "posture" I'm going to make sure she's permanently slouched over. Thank god I only have 15 more minutes, and my mother previously taught me how to walk in heels, these things are monstrous. I can't believe we're going into the Hunger Games (where children kill each other) and their main priority is how nicely was can sit in a chair. I could be doing something way better with my time right now...like making out with Cato.

Which eventually happened this morning. It may have led to something else if Athena hadn't come pounding on his door, shrieking about how "bandages don't look nice in dresses." I think she ignored me when I told her to fuck off, or maybe that's why she's nagging me so much today.

"Seriously Clove," she sighs, "we're you raised by pigs?"

"Yup."

"It's yes," she scolds. Then she mutters under her breath, "no manners."

I grin at her and lounge in the chair. I can do whatever I want.

Enobaria finally saves me from the torture, that was honestly the worst hour of my life. Except the prep team of course. I grin at Cato as we walk by, now he gets to be subjected to the torture. Sometimes I hug him, other times I wish I could listen to Athena nagging him for an hour. He has the worst etiquette, it would be so funny to listen to them.

"Good luck," I laugh maliciously as we pass.

"Suck it," he answers, I watch him lounge on the chair, his legs spread wide. Athena hits them with her fan.

"Posture!"

I follow Enobaria, laughing. He will be so mad after. Which reminds me of last night and all the crap that happened. One might expect more to have occurred, but we held each other and slept. Slept through the night like we had no care in the world, which was a lie. But still felt nice. Then we woke up...and well, I think we all know what happened next. I'm glad I stayed with him, he needed me, I know that. But I think I needed him more.

I take a seat across from Enobaria, I order lunch and eat as she talks.

"I have decided that tonight in the interviews, I want you to come across as arrogant but sweet. Arrogant should be easy for you, it's just sweet we have to work on."

"I can be fucking sweet." She shakes her head and laughs.

"That was a horrible example."

I glare at her, "I wasn't trying." Okay, so I must admit, sweet might not be easy for me. I finish my sandwich quickly, so we can go through some mock interview scenarios. Enobaria would pretend to be Ceaser, and I would try to be arrogant and sweet.

"So Clove, do you think you can win the games?"

I smile maliciously, "of course I can win Ceaser." I raise my voice.

Enobaria shakes her head but doesn't comment, what? I thought I was sweet enough.

"How do you like it here in the Capitol?"

"Oh it's quite overwhelming, a lot different than 2."

"Do you like it?"

No I fucking hate it, "It's lovely."

"You sound too sarcastic."

"I'm sorry, the sweetness couldn't find it's way around the bullshit coming out of my mouth." And we continue, I lie, say how wonderful the Capital is. Promise that I will win. Boast about my skills in weapons and knives. I threaten the other tributes. I do everything I'm supposed to, but none of it's true. And the world will never know who I really am.

I hate dresses, and heels, and I certainly hate my prep team. They rip off all my hair (again) as if they hadn't got rid of it all already. Pulled my hair everywhere, then put it up in this spiky hair style that makes my ponytail look like a dinosaur. Then they make me sit quietly while they ruin, I mean, make my nails better. Then they have me sit still as they put slabs of makeup on my face. I feel like a barbie doll, ready for their amusement. But I guess I am, we all are.

Now the tributes take their seats, waiting for the interviews with Ceaser. Waiting for their last chance to impress the Capital and scrounge up a few sponsors if they can. I'm really hoping District 12 is awful, if they're not, I don't know what I'll do. Of course the games where Cato and I are together, are the games that are completely screwed up. Since when does District 12 beat anyone at anything?

Soon Glimmer is sauntering to her seat, twirling her extremely short and practically see through dress. I guess she's going for the "sexy" angel, never saw that one coming. Ugg, I can't even believe her. Marvel goes for arrogant but funny, which he pulls off really well. I never got a chance to ask him about my father, I'll just have to make sure he survives the bloodbath, so I can talk to him about it before he has to die. Then it's my turn, my heart flutters with nerves, but I push them away. I'm good at that.

"Clove Serena."

I walk to the stage, swishing my dress side to side as I walk. I practiced with Athena quickly before the interviews, she wanted to make sure I made a good impression, seeing as I already have the dress to do that. I hate dresses, but I must admit, even I look good in this dress. Or at least Cato though so, his eyes never left my body when we saw each other again.

I'm dressed in a blood red dress. The top is tight to just under my breasts and is strapless with a sweetheart neckline. I have my knife necklace showing over my dress, reaching to the part where the puff begins. It's puffy out from under my breasts. And puffs out a lot, so it lands halfway down my thighs. It's a little short, but that's okay. I have on tall black heels, closed at the front and glimmering in the stage lights. My makeup is dark and smoky again, my lips a blood red colour to match my dress. I must admit, I look hot and dangerous.

I carefully sit in the plush white chair, crossing my legs like I was told.

"Hello Clove," this year Ceaser is wearing midnight blue, his makeup is actually quite horrifying.

"Hey Ceaser," I gush. God I sound like an annoying schoolgirl.

"So Clove, how do you like the Capital so far?" A standard and over used question, yet the crowd waits impatiently for my response.

I wink at the crowd, "it's different, but lovely."

"Different?"

"Well the foods better here," I explain, "and, the people are dressed better."

Ceaser nods, "and that is quite a dress. Right folks?" The crowd hoots and hollers.

I smile, "thank you Caesar."

"So Clove, tell us about that training score of yours, that was quite a score."

"Indeed," I nod, "I have quite a large bag of tricks, ready for later use." I wink and the crowd cheers, "but you can probably guess I love knives," I point at my necklace. The crowd gushes at my necklace, and he compliments how beautiful it is. It barely passed, but finally the gamemakers decided it wasn't sharp enough to be used as a weapon. Thank god, I need it, when I open the locket I see the picture of Cato and I. And I feel happiness and confidence. Which I guess really is a weapon, after all.

"I can say for all of us, that we can't wait to see what's in that bag of tricks." Me too, but I don't tell him that.

"One last question before you go, and a very important one," he states dramatically, "Clove?"

"Yes Ceaser?"

"Do you truly believe you can win the games?"

No. Yes. Maybe. I could win, maybe if I wanted to. If Cato wasn't sitting down there, waiting for my answer like the rest. If I wasn't so afraid to lose the only person I love. Have ever loved, and will ever love. If there weren't so many threats. Thresh, District 12. If I didn't care whether or not Marvel died. Maybe if things were different. But even then, maybe I couldn't win the games. Maybe I was born to die. Just like my father. If the world wasn't this way, maybe.

Instead I say what I should say, "well of course." Everyone believes me, I can tell by the crowds cheers as I return to my seat. Only Cato doesn't, that I can tell by the sad look that he quickly hides. He's in character now, confident, arrogant, malicious. There's no doubt he'll play his part well, of course he will. He doesn't have to try and be sweet.

He lounges on the plush white chair and goes on about how there's no doubt that he'll win. That no one here is a threat to him, that he could beat all the tributes with his eyes closed. And the crowd believes him, because he's huge, muscular. And no one can miss the malicious glint in his eyes, which I doubt is fake.

"Nice," he takes his seat beside me, and lounges in his chair.

"They really are stupid enough to believe it."

"It was pretty convincing."

His bright blue eyes meet mine, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing Cato," I shake my head. Maybe it means that this is who he is, who I am. Malicious, mean and there's no use pretending we're any different. Maybe we've both been putting on this show of caring, but how can people like us really care? No one believes we have heart, why should we?

The other interviews fly by. Thresh is short and doesn't give up much about himself. His interview frankly is boring and I can't help but be glad. He'll only get sponsors for his size, but Cato is bigger, so Cato should win over him. Then District 12 rolls around and Katniss proves to be ditzy and giggles a lot. The only impressive thing was the way the lights danced across her dress as she twirled, making it look like fire. Or making me want to puke. Either one works.

Peeta is funny and charming, but nothing impressive until the end.

"Because, well, because she came here with me." The crowd sighs, Ceaser tells him it's such bad luck. And all the other tributes sit in dumbfounded silence, I quickly look at Fire Bitch but she's blushing and looking at the ground. She didn't know, who knows whether he's lying or not. But. He got the Capitals attention and outshone us yet again.

And that burning flame of hatred inside me, seems to burn even brighter in that moment. I'm coming for them, no, we're coming for them. And it won't be pretty. I would say that's a promise, but that's fate. It has to be.

A/N: So next chapter is the games and I'm honestly so pumped to write it! I'm usually trying to fly through the Capital time because I just want to get to he games, but this time I didn't do that. I enjoyed the whole thing, maybe it was the cookies?

I hope you enjoyed them too.

Someone asked if this is going to be an alternate ending, and my answer is...

YOU HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE MWAHAHAHAHA

Reviewers get a virtual cookie :)

xoxoxox

Cato says he will spare those who review.