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AFTER THE INTERVIEWS
When Rapunzel and her partner step out of the elevator, their rooms are dark. The sole source of light is the television screen, and the image playing across it is Rapunzel's face.
"...but I don't want to kill anyone," comes her recorded voice, followed by a shy little laugh. "Actually, I promised myself I wouldn't. Not if I can help it."
Caesar's startled response cuts off as the clip starts over again. Slowly, Maia Gothel rises from her seat on the sofa. Her eyes gleam like a cat's in the reflected light from the screen.
Rapunzel realizes that her partner has already slipped out of the room.
"What," her mentor snaps, clipped and tense, "do you call this?"
She opens her mouth to explain, to confess the private vow she made to herself on the train when this all began, but before the words can emerge, Maia has crossed the room in three long strides and seized her by the shoulders. The shake she gives Rapunzel snaps her head back and knocks her teeth together with an audible clack.
"Are you trying to ruin your chances?" Maia hisses. "Do you not want any sponsors? Oh, no, you're such a clever little miss! You don't need anyone's help, not with running your mouth straight into an early grave!"
This close, the floral smell of Maia's perfume is overwhelming; her lacquered nails dig into Rapunzel's skin like claws. Rapunzel feels herself quivering on the verge of a sob of terror.
"...can help it," her own voice says softly from the television.
Maia releases her grip on her shoulders; the fury in her expression flickers, then vanishes as suddenly as a snuffed flame.
"Oh, you ridiculous child," she sighs, and stalks back to the sofa to collapse dramatically onto it, throwing one arm across her eyes. "I'm going to need a week with my stylist when these Games are over, just to take care of the gray hairs you're giving me."
Left standing in the middle of the floor, Rapunzel hesitates, unsure of what to do. Her heart is still beating too fast. "I-I'm sorry?" she ventures.
Maia lifts her arm and peers under it at her. "I've been working myself half to death for you, you know," she says, and her tone is gently scolding now, almost affectionate. "Come here, child."
Reluctantly, Rapunzel goes to sit next to her. Her mentor sits up, and folds one of Rapunzel's hands in both of her large ones. Her fingers are cold; her voice is tender, encouraging. "Everyone in District Nine is cheering you on, Rapunzel. Do you really want to disappoint them all?" She pats her hand. "I know this is a little daunting - believe me, I know - but it's all right. Everyone expects...certain things...from a tribute."
Rapunzel swallows. "I...I don't think my mother and father-"
"Ha!" Maia's bark of laughter echoes off the walls like a gunshot. "Oh, Rapunzel! Never mind your parents! You'll be lucky if you ever see them again."
Tears flood into Rapunzel's eyes and spill over without warning. Her throat is closing up too tightly to speak. Maia tsks, and shakes her head.
"There, there," she murmurs, gently patting Rapunzel's cheeks dry with the corner of her sleeve. "Don't cry, you'll spoil your looks. Dear heart, I am trying to help you. I'm the best ally you have." A smile curls her painted mouth. "At this point, you might as well call me Mother."