Author's Note: Please, please, please review! It means so much to know that you spent a small portion of the 86,400 seconds in a day telling me about my story. You don't have to, but it is very appreciated! (Also you will get a shout-out here!) Sorry this took so long. I have a ton of stuff going on right now.

Chapter 4: Sunglasses

Number Of Different POVs: 3

LAL'S POV (DISTRICT 9 FEMALE)

I wake up, go to breakfast, and scarf down some of these really yummy blueberry pastries. Maybe not the healthiest breakfast in the world, but I am going to die in a few days. I think I can be allowed a delicious breakfast.

My mentor, Mica Obficiana, has me first. Then my escort Romilio is going to teach me how to walk in high heels and a dress. Mica sits me down and says right off the bat, "What do you think you are doing, little girl?"

"What do you mean?" She just glares at me until I start to squirm under her gaze. "I mean that you have been acting like a foolish little idiot who can't tell her right from her left! How do you think the audience would respond to that?! Sponsors can be your life or death in the arena, and you go out there and act like you don't even need them! What do you think I mean, you insolent little beast!"

I thought it was clear. I wanted to trick people into thinking I was exactly what she said, then attack viciously. Duh. But I simply say, "I'm sorry. I wanted to trick the other tributes into thinking I was weak and then surprise them. I got my score with the Gamemakers for a reason." She just fumes at me silently for the rest of the time. I can't tell if she is angry because she thinks I'm right or because she thinks I'm wrong.

It doesn't seem to matter because Romilio stuck his head in the door and asked if he could see me. I jumped at the chance to leave Mica. Mica was always moody, even in District 9. She never came to the grain factory. She never needed to because of all her money, but still, a visit from our most recent victor could easily put a little faith in us and make us feel strong and ready.

When I was a little girl, back when Mica had just won, she was on the Victory tour and everybody cheered for. The victor's district was the only place where the cheers were real, of course. I had felt hope and excitement, which lasted me the entire week or so. Then everything seemed boring and normal again. After that day, Mica seemed to slowly withdraw from other people.

Romilio snaps at me to, "pay attention, would you? This is life-or-death stuff right here! Now, what is your strategy in the Games?" The rest of the morning passes in a blur for me. He still doesn't agree with my strategy by the time interviews roll around. Caesar wears bright yellow hair, lipstick, and eye shadow. When it is my turn for an interview, I decide at the last minute to be silly and giggly and really shallow in general.

"So, Lal, what do you think of us here in the Capitol?"

I am blushing from embarrassment at being in front of my whole country acting like this, but only I know that is the reason, and not a shy pleasure. "Oh, it is truly delightful! All of the colors and buildings and people! If I win, I am going to get plastic surgery to look like the people in the Capitol! They are just like heroes to me!" I can only imagine the bad things my family and friends are thinking and saying about me right now, but the live audience at least looks impressed and flattered. Oh yes, I know how to manipulate people all right. The key is to flatter, flatter, flatter.

"So what kind of plastic surgery would you get?" he asks me.

"Oh, definitely I would have my skin dyed a deep, rich purple and get green hair! then maybe, but not for sure, tattoos all around my face."

"Well, you clearly have a sense of fashion!" Caesar's voice had such an honest quality to it that I had to stifle a laugh. Not that I would ever really get those things done to me, because, well, it is freakish-looking. But I continue to play the cameras and, as a result, the audience.

"I wish I could've grown up in the Capitol like all of you so I could look that way without having to wait until I win! But, then again, I couldn't appear on this stage in front of all of you tonight or win glory and fame for me and riches for my family and friends and district!"

Caesar smiles knowingly. "Is there anyone in particular you want to win for? Any sweetheart back home?" I play along and answer, "Yes, there is. Ergno." Caesar of course asks for more details. I reply, "He is my…twin brother!"

Everyone bursts out laughing and even Caesar can't keep the smile off of his face at that one. The buzzer decrees the end of my interview with an authoritative voice. I step off of the stage amidst cheers. And if that isn't a good interview, then what is?

IMBER (DISTRICT 4 FEMALE)

I am dressed in a flowing, wavy dress the color of fresh copper with tank-top sleeves. I also wear a silver headband and my hair in a bun. One smile in the mirror and I look like a victor. My stylist, escort, and mentor are full of compliments for me. I smile, not out of happiness as much as just to practice for my interview. Being the girl from 4, I am the seventh one to go up. Caesar's color is yellow. It is so big that it hurts my eyes.

He smiles at me and compliments me on my dress. I smile at him. It isn't a grin, just a smile. "So, Imber, how do you feel about getting to be a tribute?"

I look straight at the cameras as I answer. Even though I memorized my reply by heart, I say it slowly and carefully to leave the audience hanging onto my every word because potential sponsors are out there and I want them to feel interested in me. "It is of course the dream of everyone in my district. So, to be here with all of you tonight, well, it is more than I could've ever hoped for."

I know I've said the right thing when he smiles at me. "What of that girl who tried to volunteer for you?" I answer, "She was my sister and I love her a lot. Even though she's strong, I don't think she is fast enough to win yet. At only 12, she is an easy target."

With a mock expression of pain, Caesar begs for details. I simply answer, "Well, you know what love is like. He just seems like the best guy in the world, like a person who can do no wrong." The buzzer goes off and I say my final comment. "See you in a few weeks, Caesar, when I get my victory crown!" Then Opthalmius lumbers onto the stage and begins his interview.

FOCULUS (DISTRICT 12 MALE)

I step onto the stage in a dark green suit and black tie. I look like a piece of broccoli, but with blonde hair and glasses. Caesar is so bright in his neon yellow that I have to squint. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Oh," I reply, blushing. "Just, um, you're really bright. I could use sunglasses." He smiles at me for a brief second. "So, how do you feel about being a tribute?"

"Um, well, I don't think I'll win because, well, I'm not strong or fast. My one asset is that I'm pretty smart." Caesar looks at me, serious. "Knowledge can easily be the difference between winning and losing. So don't count yourself out just yet."

Sensing my discomfort, he changes to another subject, one that I heard him bring up with other tributes, in this year and previous ones. "So, do you have anyone you want to win for, Foculus?" My response is the worst one possible: "My parents." Caesar smiles and opens his mouth—to laugh at me, perhaps? "You do seem like a loyal boy. I would ally with you if I was a tribute." He's helping me, I realize. So I play along. "Um, yeah. So I guess it was a stroke of luck to be picked for the Hunger Games. If I win then my family gets rich and a mansion in the Victors' Village and my whole district gets food." Caesar smiled at me, told a few jokes, and then the buzzer rang out around the room, signaling my interview was over.