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Chapter 6: The Interviews
"Is there anything you can do?" I growl.
"Katniss," Cinna warns. "He's got quite a shiner. You can't just cover it up. There's nothing I can do—well, there's a Capitol operation to set his nose straight, but that defeats the purpose of no one knowing."
"It's been three days!" I exclaim. "His nose is green! Yesterday, it was blue! And you're telling me there's no fancy Capitol makeup that will fix it for one night? I'm sick of the press and the stupid rumors and the questions! Do you know what this will do to the Capitol media? To us?"
"Listen, if we cover it up with makeup, the bruise looks worse and more...colorful, for the lack of a better term," he answers. "Just calm down. It should be gone by the time the Games start and you two get real publicity."
I glare at him. I'm not truly mad at Cinna, but I have to vent my anger to someone besides Peeta. He's coaching Lenora through interview content at the moment, and I thought this would be a good time to panic. Since we're coaching Lenora and Kade separately, we only have to work for half of the day. I spent the morning coaching Kade while Effie had Lenora for presentation. We took a break for dinner, and I have free time until the tribute interviews tonight. Fantastic. More time to worry what will happen when the Capitol fans find out Peeta was slugged in the face.
I have to say, Peeta's taken it pretty well compared to me. I've freaked out since the moment he stumbled through the elevator doors with blood covering his mouth. Effie can argue that it's my "mothering nature" all she wants, but it's not because of a protective instinct. It's more of an animal instinct from the Games. Like my nightmares have come to life. I think seeing Peeta suffer so badly in the arena gave me a psychological need to defend him from everything else. If everything else means a six-foot tall, two-hundred pound, arrogant bastard from District Two, that's fine by me.
Brutus is one of those victors who flaunts their influence. I've never personally met him, but he seems like the type even the Capitol doesn't try to push around. Well, he was strong enough to stay out of the prostitution ring, anyway. Peeta and I are the lucky ones. I may not feel very lucky, but we are fortunate to have each other. We are both desirable enough to be sold, and I can't imagine what tragedy my life would be now if I had won the Games alone.
There were a few mentors who writhed out of the Capitol's reach, but they are few and far between. An old woman from Four, most of the victors from Three, the pair from Eleven, and the girl from Seven. Even those who escaped selling their bodies were scarred by the Capitol in other ways. District Four's Annie Cresta went mad after her time in the arena, but was still forcibly held in the Capitol on occasion for reasons beyond our small television screen in District 12.
At any rate, Peeta told us the full story after his nose stopped bleeding. After checking the tributes in, he headed back to the elevator and Brutus snatched him before he could make it. I'm not entirely sure why he went after Peeta, though. It looks like the other victors would have it out for me, not him. What has Peeta done to them? I've stolen their limelight, whether I wanted it or not, and forced a rule change in the Hunger Games. Peeta has done nothing against anyone.
Cinna draws me out of my thoughts and tells me to find the prep team so I can get ready for this evening. Right. They're speeding things up this year. The stylists don't have a day for themselves to work with the tributes. I've almost forgotten how long it takes them to prepare me for Cinna. Plucking my eyebrows, scrubbing my face, applying makeup and body shimmer; things I would never do if it weren't for the Capitol's insistence.
By the time they are finished with me, it is seven o'clock. In an hour, all television screens in Panem will be turned on to watch the tribute interviews. Cinna arrives and the prep team vanishes out the door.
"Okay," Cinna says. "I think you're going to like this." He produces a yellow dress from the closet and it looks familiar. It's the dress I wore at the victor interview, but it's different somehow. "I've altered it so it doesn't have the padding from after the Games. It's shorter, I know, but it has less frills," he explains. "I chose it because of our theme at the opening ceremonies."
Canary yellow. Yes, it was the right color, but it still luminates and flickers. I am still the girl on fire. I put on the dress and stand in front of the mirror. I am not as radiant as the sun anymore. I glow like a dandelion in the spring.
"Thank you, Cinna," I whisper.
"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replies. He doesn't use the nickname to make fun of me like Haymitch. He is genuine in saying it. "I think you're going to like the shoes even better."
I snort in disbelief. After the contraptions I wore a few nights ago, I don't believe I can ever like shoes again. I am wrong. It turns out the Capitol does make flat, close-toed shoes. I fling my arms around Cinna. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," I say.
"I told you so," Cinna says. "Now, let's get down to the auditorium. I believe Effie's escorting the tributes and their prep teams down."
We leave the dressing room and head to the elevator where we meet up with Peeta and Portia. As soon as the elevator doors open, we head to the theater, built onto the other side of the Training Center. There are already a line of mentors trying to fit through the doors. We hassle our way through and part ways, Portia and Cinna going to the stylists' wing while Peeta and I find our seats next to the District Eleven mentors.
I am glad for an opportunity to talk to them. Kade said this morning that he wants to team up with their tributes. He says they aren't conceited, but they are fierce and would make for good allies. But all the seats in the building are filled and the lights dim before I can say anything.
The trumpets blare and Claudius Templesmith introduces Caesar. The audience is in a frenzy when he turns in his chair, sporting a fiery orange hairstyle.
The camera pans over the stylists painted with glitter and outrageous colors and then flashes to the row of escorts. Finally, it's our turn. District 1's pair, Cashmere and Gloss; Two, Brutus and Lyme; I don't recognize Three's mentors; Four, Finnick and Mags; Five and Six's mentors are both unrecognizable Morphlings; Seven, Johanna and Blight; just like the opening ceremonies, Eight, Nine, and Ten drift together; Eleven, Seeder and Chaff; and us, the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve. I thrust my head high and smile triumphantly, tightly clutching Peeta's hand beneath the view of the camera. This is the first time the Capitol has caught a glimpse of Peeta's injury, and it will no doubt be headlining tomorrow's news. It lingers on us a little longer than the other mentors and I'm anxious for it to turn away.
"What an introduction to such a spectacular night!" Caesar Flickerman roars. "Good evening, everyone! If you haven't noticed, there's a trend here in the Capitol!" he says good-naturedly, motioning to his hair. "And it all started at last year's interviews with the girl on fire! She was a tribute, a victor, and now a mentor in the Quarter Quell. Katniss Everdeen!"
This only gives the cameras an excuse to show more of us. I pretend to laugh and wave at the camera. Caesar expertly redirects the small-talk conversation. "It's nice to have you back in the Capitol, Katniss! Now, are you excited to meet this year's tributes? We've heard all about them! Two scores of ten in training! Can you believe it? Well, let's kick off the night with District One's female tribute! Volunteer, Emerald Shields!" She struts onto the stage in a flamboyant white gown with extravagant silver jewelry, sparkling even at this distance. Luxury.
"Now, Emerald," Caesar says as they take their seats. "Tell me, did you prepare to volunteer at the reaping?"
"Yes, Caesar, I did," she answers enthusiastically. "It's an honor to be here."
"I'm sure it is!" Caesar responds. "The odds are in your favor, Miss Shields. How about that ten in training? Hmm?"
"Oh, that," she says casually. "Yes, I'm partial to spears, but I've learnt to throw a knife this week as well!" Caesar throws back his head and laughs. As if this is funny, I think bitterly. That's the highlight of the interview. She's a typical District One; femme fatale, dangerous, lethal, and attractive enough to get piles of sponsor money.
Caige, the boy from One, is just as formidable. I begin to make a mental note of the competitors. It's about time I start learning the enemy. Lorcan and Sage, from District 2, are the other half of the Career pack. Brutal and strong, all four of them are volunteer tributes. Apparently, we have six volunteers this year. The Careers, the girl from Four, Oceana, and the boy from Six, Asher.
The night wears on and the acts jumble together. A few tributes have stood out, though. Despite having mentors on morphling, the tributes from Six, Candis and Asher, are in fair shape. The boy from Seven, the girl from Nine, and both of the tributes from District Eleven, Magnolia and Basil. Finally, it is our district's turn.
"We may be nearing the end of the night, but let's not forget about our tributes from District 12!" Caesar toys with crowd. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and sink lower in my seat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Lenora Bregel!"
"Good evening, Lenora," Caesar says.
"Good evening, Caesar!" Lenora replies.
"Now, tell me, are you prepared for the Games?" he asks. She nods with enthusiasm. "I imagine you would be with a seven in training! Quite a score for a girl of your age," Caesar remarks.
"Thank you," she says kindly. "But I am not weak."
Caesar feigns surprise. "Of course you aren't. Do tell, have you any close relatives back home?"
"Only my mother," says Lenora. "My father died of pneumonia during a bad winter, and I don't have any siblings." The Capitol audience is already paying attention to her likable, relatable nature, cooing in sympathy at her story. "I'm going to try to win for her. She took care of me when times were hard. It's my turn to take care of her."
If the Capitol liked her before, they're in love with her now. I turn to look at Peeta and he's grinning with a sly smile. "Her idea," he muses. "I just ran with it."
Caesar ends the interview shortly after that and introduces our next tribute, Kade Chavers. He smiles into the crowd as he strides to his seat, but it is not friendly. It is cunning and calculating.
"How are you, Kade?" Caesar asks politely, generating an easy conversation.
"I'm fine," he answers flatly. "How are you?" It's forced. I can tell it still isn't coming natural to open up.
"I'm fantastic!" Caesar says brightly, adding emotion to the interview. He can always draw out the best in people. I hope he can help the Capitol citizens to see the best of Kade. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you've tied for the top score in training with a ten," he says.
"Yes, Caesar, I have," he responds.
"I'm impressed."
"Thank you," Kade says. I can tell he's thinking sarcastically, Well, you should be. And I agree. The Capitol should be impressed with every one of these tributes for who they are, not because some personality made up by their mentor.
"Any alliances?" questions Caesar.
"A few," Kade replies as if it's an offhand comment. "Let's just say I won't be dealing with District One or Two." He's marking himself as a rebel, a target for the Career tributes. The audience is impressed by his demeanor, not arrogant, but unafraid of a challenge. He's asking for a fight from the Careers. That's okay with me, though.
If everything goes to plan, the District Twelve tributes will team up with District Eleven to fight the Career pack.