When I wake up, my door is locked.
I can't get out. Why would they want to trap me in here? Suddenly, the thought hits me full-force. They might have finally found out about Corvin's visits. I try to stay calm and check my alarm clock. 6:27. Pretty late for me to wake up based on previous days, but I didn't have any nightmares last night.
A moment later, my door clicks and I know the lock has been undone. Six thirty. That's when I can get out of bed. After I'm dressed, I go outside to have the usual breakfast. As I sit down across from Corvin, I know he's made the same discovery as I have. I cock my head, squint my eyes and point to him, but he just gives a silent laugh and shakes his head no. Apparently they didn't know about his visits.
I wonder about the previous avoxes that were supposed to keep our doors locked. They were probably executed by now. I tried to finish my breakfast in peace, but it was difficult.
After I'm finished, my prep team comes to retrieve me. After all, it is Interview Day. When my prep team is done waxing me, styling my hair into the classic side-braid, and doing my makeup, which is black, dusty eyeshadow and pure white lipstick, I go to see Regan.
"You look beautiful," he said.
"I'm not dressed yet," I say in a tired tone.
"That's right," he says with a wink. Suddenly he pulls out a beautiful black ball gown like the one Symma was wearing earlier, minus the awful colors, ribbons, and oversized skirt. The dress looks like something a princess would wear, with its silky fabric and pearl beads embedded in the skirt. The top is sleeveless. A simple style, and with a diamond clip to insert into my braid to match.
"Coal," Regan explains as I slip it on. It fits perfectly and I twirl around a few times in it. When is shakes, it shimmers silver. I gasp at my reflection, hugging myself.
"Coal," he repeats, "waiting to become a diamond." The thought is genius. That's what the little pearls are. When compressed, coal can become diamonds. Truly beautiful. Giving one last spin, I turn to look at Regan, who is staring thoughtfully at me.
"What is Corvin wearing?" I ask.
"You'll find out soon enough," he teases, whisking me away to the hallway under the interview stage. The District 11 boy tribute appears next to us, and gives me the signal that it's time to go up. But before I can pick up my skirt and get up the stairs, I realize two things: one, I'm barefoot, and two, Corvin just tapped my shoulder.
Turning around, I'm met with a dazzling sight. Corvin is wearing a sort of tuxedo that is pitch black like mine, but when the light hits him he absolutely illuminates.
I'm in awe and I can barely move before he whispers in my ear, "I can't wait to come back here," and leans forward and gently kisses my cheek. I have no idea what his words mean but before I can think about it I'm walking up the stairs leading to the stage and I'm hit with a huge roar of the crowd.
I try to give a girly smile and curtsy as I sit down next to Serroe Caste, the interviewer. He always dresses in the same outfit: a simple tuxedo, but every year he adds a twist to it. Usually the twist has something to do with the arena for that year, but his hints are almost impossible to decipher. This year his hair is slicked back so much that it looks wet, and his tuxedo is such a dark blue that it looks almost black.
"So, I hear your name is..." he begins.
"Evelyn," I say with a shy smile.
"Well, Evelyn," he says, "we are all very excited to have you here. To start off, I'd like to ask about your dress. You do look stunning!"
I blush. "My designer, Regan, told me that it represents the coal of District 12." I pause, waiting for him to ask about the beads.
As if reading my mind, he says politely, "And may I ask what the beads represent?" He gestures to the audience. "Wouldn't we all like to know?" This brings up a shriek from the crowd. They go wild, they must love my dress so much.
"Well, Serroe," I say confidetly. I'm really getting better at this! "The beads represent diamonds, waiting to be made." He gives me a stunned look, then smiles back at the audience.
"Well there you have it!" He cries. "Pure genius! And if I may say so myself, I believe that this outfit truly does reflect on your personality. You really are a diamond waiting to be made," he compliments me.
I can feel myself turning red as a cherry. Serroe laughs and says, "May the odds be ever in your favor!" I don't think it's right for the interviewers to choose favorites, but I really think he likes me. Standing up, I give a twirl and a curtsy and as I do it I can hear the Capitolites ooh-ing and ahh-ing in the audience. I strut off the stage, and by the time I'm back under it I can hear Corvin being welcomed warmly to the Capitol by Serroe.
I sprint over to Regan and collapse in his arms, sobbing. Because I know what Corvin meant, now. As soon as Serroe brought up how the dress reflected on my personality, it clicked. Corvin said he couldn't wait for us to be back here. Victors always come back for a second interview.
One thing is for sure: the odds will never be in my favor, and if anyone from District 12 is coming back it will be Corvin. Regan holds me, cradling me in his arms and patting my back as I shake uncontrollably. When I finally dry my tears, I'm more embarrassed than ever. Luckily the other tributes cleared out as soon as I stepped on the stage and no one saw us.
As I'm turning around to thank Regan, I see it. A flash of red, leaving the room. I know who it is and I'm not sure what it means. Everything is so confusing right now!
"Thanks," I whisper to Regan, still hiccuping. A moment later, Corvin is jogging back down the stairs. I try to straighten up my attitude.
"What angle did you play?" I ask, trying to make conversation.
"Dunno. It probably looked like fearless, but not a 'conqueror' sort of thing," he explains. I know what he means. He didn't want to look afraid of the Games, but not like a Career either.
We stood there for a moment before Corvin announced, "Water." I gave him a strange look.
"I don't think so," I said. I knew he was referring to the arena, and Serroe's costume.
"The ocean!" he said excitedly. "Didn't you see how... wet... he was?"
"No," I said stubbornly. "If they wanted to drown us, it wouldn't be that obvious. I think his costume would probably an airy theme, for 'last dying breath.' Besides, he never makes it that obvious. There's always a twist in which it finally clicks together. Usually at the beginning of the games the arena totally goes the opposite way you would have guessed. But eventually the pieces start falling together." I shivered. I was done talking about arenas and Serroe's costume.
Finally we were back in the Capitol Building, and I did nothing but sleep even though it was only 2:30 when we got back. I was sick of being bored so I just laid down on my bed and slept. This time no dreams came, nightmares or good dreams. And for once I didn't want to cry constantly and have to hide it.
When I woke up the only thing I could think of doing was to take a shower to pass the time, but I decided not to because I do that every day. I chose to go see Corvin's room. I wondered what the thing he brought from home was.
I had no idea where his room was but that was okay. I just waited for him to come to me, and that didn't take long.
"Hi," I said cheerily once he showed up.
"Why so happy?" He said, and stood next to my bed, facing away, then suddenly let himself fall onto it.
Still sitting up next to him, I said, "I was thinking that I want to see your room today. I want to know what you brought from home."
At first he looked confused, then molded his face into a smile and said, "Sure." He picked himself up and offered me his hand, but I didn't take it. Getting up, I walked next to him as we traveled the endless halls to his room.
Finally we reached it and I wondered aloud, "Why do they put the tribute's rooms so far apart? We are from the same district." He smiled.
"For all you know, we could live next to each other. Did you ever think about that maybe I don't want you to be able to find my room?"
I playfully punched his arm, saying, "I really hate you right now." Taking out a tiny silver key, he pointed it to the room and stood very still. After a few seconds we heard a high-pitched noise that electricity makes. I recall hearing it in my kitchen whenever someone turned on the TV back home. It hurt my ears because I didn't usually hear it, but here at the Capitol they must be used to it.
Corvin inserted his key and the high-pitched noise stopped.
"What was that?" I asked.
"Full body scan," he said. "I don't think your room has it." His eyes gave the implication of a secret joke, and I halfway understood. If I really had the security his room did, he never would have been able to get in.
I step inside and there's no surprise. His room looks just like mine except for one thing: a tiny little square that is on a table by his bed. I pick it up and look at it. Up close, it's deep blue and has a hundred little gold lines of wire running on it. I can also feel raised bumps on its surface. I hold it up and give him a look.
"That's what I brought from home," he explains innocently. I set it back down.
"I don't understand what it is or why of all things, that is what you'd want to bring." Corvin sits down on his bed and I sit down next to him.
"It's called a Micro," he says. "Very complicated stuff. If I weren't me, if I was someone else, it would probably be of no use to me. I'm the only person that wants it," He sighed, and I didn't bother to ask what that meant.
Leaning towards my ear, he whispered, "You know I still love you," and kissed my shoulder. I flopped down onto the bed so that my legs were still hanging off the edge and thought about the arena. What would it be? I had no idea.
We talked for the rest of the day, laying on the bed together. One time he told me my hair smelled like cinnamon and we were both cracking up for no apparent reason. Most of the time the conversation got dangerously close to the subject of the arena, but I always found a way to avoid it.
Hours passed like seconds and before I knew it, Corvin was leading me through that endless labyrinth again. Finally, I dug out my key to my room and put it in the lock, like some normal tribute from District 12 would do. Giving a last laugh, he waved goodbye and left me alone to sleep.
Tonight I dreamt about water and arenas and one horrifying word: tomorrow.