The Games are approaching. :)
Not quite sure where this is going yet, but I hope to decide along the way. Thank you for the feedback, everyone.
Cato:
I'm going to kill her. After the fight at the Cornucopia, I'll get her. That is, if she's still alive. And, if there's a bow, I'm going let one of the Careers snag it. Then she won't have a chance.
I pick up a glass vase and throw it at the wall. Then the remote for the stupidly complicated shower. Another vase joins the scattered glass shards on the marble floor. A red tint has washed over everything, making even my pillows look sinister. I reach towards them, ready to tear them into feather-filled shreds.
"Calm down, Cato. You're making a huge mess." Clove looks over her magazine, eyebrows arched. Her voice is calm, and for a second, I hate her for not caring. Not caring that a scrawny little girl from District 12 has gotten an 11. A damn 11.
I look down at the luminous stone floor, fists clenched, and lean on the wall as the red tint slowly fades. When my breathing has slowed, I straighten up and fall backwards into the luxurious mattress, making the springs creak in protest. Clove puts down her magazine and draws her knees to her chin. She is quiet, but when I glance over, her amber eyes are smoldering. Of course, Clove's angry too, although she might not show it.
"You really should learn how to control your anger. It's your greatest weakness." She frowns. For a second, Clove reaches her hand towards my hair, as if to touch it. But I growl under my breath, and she pulls it back quickly.
She doesn't understand the full extent of my infuriation. I should have been the one with the 11. Me. I can imagine the people back home, laughing at me. Cato, the one who was always the best in training, he was beaten by a rat from District 12. How she got that score, I don't know. Probably flirted with a Game maker or did something completely reckless. The Game makers like attitude, so I decide to go with the first option.
There is a knock on the door, and a dark-skinned Avox appears. Her eyes widen at the mess, and she leaves, probably to retrieve a dustpan. The person who knocked is our Capitol escort, Ellaena Huckenburri. She is dressed in a retina-burning neon green suit, and I train my eyes on the plasma ceiling as to not be blinded.
"Enobaria's waiting for you in the sitting room, Cato." Her high-pitched voice reminds me of the squeak of a mouse. "And Clove, meet me outside in a minute."
I sit up and groan. Clove lets out a small sigh as well, and I know that she's thinking what I am. Four long hours with each of them today. Then tomorrow's the interview. The day after tomorrow…the Games.
Katniss:
"Can I open my eyes?" I ask.
"Yes," says Cinna. "Open them."
The girl standing before me in the full-length mirror is a creature from another world. A place of beauty, jewels, somewhere where skin shimmers and eyes sparkle and lips are as full as a rose in bloom. When I blink, the long lashes framing my huge, dark eyes send off flashes of light. My hair has been piled up atop my beautiful face, and has been tied in place with a lovely red ribbon. A huge, full scarlet rose is pinned into the dark locks. The gold dust covering my flawless skin brings out the elegant patterns stenciled on to my arms.
But the dress, oh the dress…my eyes hungrily try to consume the shining red folds of silk and satin. Reflective gems decorate the bottom, sending off beautiful flashes of gold. The dress is sleeveless, but is gathered at my left shoulder. A trail of golden gems have been pressed onto my skin, running up one and arm continuing onto my back. It is beautiful…and I never want to forget about it.
"Oh Cinna," I whisper, my eyes still wide. "Thank you."
When the prep team has finished admiring Cinna's masterpiece and leave, I turn to him.
"I don't know what to say or do…what if they don't like me? Haymitch says that I'm as lovable as a dead slug." I try to keep the tremble out of my voice. We had tried to find a suitable angle for my interview yesterday. But nothing worked…I'm not sweet, sexy, witty, or even friendly.
"Just be yourself. When you're answering the questions, look for me in the audience. Pretend that you're talking to me." Cinna smiles and gently straightens the rose. "Now go out there and wow them."
I clutch Cinna's hand, not wanting to let go as he escorts me into the hallway, where Peeta is waiting with Haymitch and Effie. They stare at me, and I notice that they've all fancied up for the interviews.
"That's a…very nice dress, Katniss." Peeta says. Effie is nodding in agreement. Peeta is dressed in a smart suit with flame accents. He looks good, but I don't know how to compliment him without sounding awkward.
"Thanks Peeta, although I bet that you'll forget about me once you see Glimmer." I grin as Peeta blushes and mutters something under his breath. Too soon, we are herded into the elevator, and the butterflies resume their fluttering in my stomach.
"Remember, they already love you." Cinna raises his voice as the elevator doors begin to close. "Just be yourself."
When the doors open, the other tributes are being lined up for the stage. All twenty-four of us sit in the back row in a huge arc. It is too dark to properly admire the work of the stylists, so we will have to wait until a tribute takes the stage before catching a glimpse of their attire. I will be second to last, since the interviews are in district order, with the girl preceding the boy. It gives me time to think, but also means that I will have to sit through twenty-two interviews filled with wittiness and charm. The butterflies have thankfully stopped, although my heart is beating twice as fast.
The last lucky viewers enter the huge room, somehow finding empty seats among the colorful clothing of the Capitol's wealthiest citizens. Then Caesar Flickerman strolls onto the stage, a smile plastered on his face. The cameras have started rolling, and he stands in the middle of the stage as roaring applause fills the room.
"What is the most exciting event of the year?" He practically bounces on the balls of his feet and leans towards the audience.
"The Hunger Games, of course." He finishes, grinning. Laughter and applause fills the room as if Caesar had just make the funniest joke possible. I'm not too worried…the talk-show host always makes a few cheesy jokes before getting down to business.
Glimmer is the first to be interviewed, and I see her slip through a door at the back of the room. Moments later, she is gracefully shaking hands with Caesar on the stage. Her opaque gold dress shows off her body, her mentor seems to have had no trouble coming up with an angle for her- she is beautiful, sexy even, with her flowing blonde hair and emerald eyes.
I can see Marvel eyeing her as she answers the questions with confidence, sounding friendly and unafraid.
Clove's approach is devious and mysterious. She smiles darkly at the right moments and surprises us all when she laughs a tinkling laugh at the end, her pixie features lighting for a few seconds.
And Cato commands attention when he strides onto the stage, sporting a silver tuxedo and smart black pants. His eyes are hard and icy, and he wears his signature smirk. Caesar greets him, and he sits down in the couch opposite the interviewer.
"So, Cato…are you excited for tomorrow? With this group of tributes, the Games will definitely be interesting."
"Yes, I am, actually." Cato's voice is cold.
"What do you think of the other tributes? Anyone special in there?" Caesar grins at the crowd, and whispers of "the girl from 1…" resound through the room. I turn and see Glimmer leaning forward in her seat, eyes bright and hopeful.
"Like you've said, it's an interesting mix…and no, I haven't taken a love interest, if that's what you're asking." Cato answers.
Caesar's grin falters. "Well, things could always change, eh?" Applause and laughter. "So, what do you think of the Capitol?"
"Hmm…the architecture is very nice, and the food is decent, I must say. But the weapon selection is excellent." Cato says. A rare smile flashes on his face, but disappears just as fast.
"Indeed. Indeed. We've heard that you scored very high in training. How do you feel about the fact that another tribute got a even higher score?" Caesar asks, oblivious. He's hit on a sore subject.
Cato's eyes flash dangerously, and he turns his head to stare at me. "I think that…the Game makers may have mixed up our scores." He is dead serious, but the audience starts laughing, thinking it to be a joke. Even Caesar chuckles before asking the final question.
"Do you think that you can win this year?"
"Oh, definitely. I know that I will be the victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games." The way that he says it, eyes stony and voice commanding, sends shivers down my back. Then the buzzer sounds, and the applause fills the air. Cato leaves the stage.
Ok. I was right. Cato hates me now, no doubt about it. With this and my upcoming interview in mind, I can't pay attention to the rest of the tributes properly, and Peeta has to elbow me when it is my turn. I stand up and walk into the door, and follow a staircase down until I see the entrance leading to the stage. I take several deep breaths before I step into the bright spotlights.
There is a collective gasp from the audience, and I know that they are examining my dress.
Caesar walks up to me, microphone in hand. "What a beautiful dress, Katniss." He looks towards the audience, and there are shouts, whistles, and cheers. I stand there frozen, like a deer caught in a trap.
I try to say something, but my throat seems to be locked in place as the cheers continue. My eyes scan the crowd, looking for someone familiar. Then I see him, Cinna.
"Don't compliment me, Cinna is the one who designed it. It's lovely, isn't it?" I pretend that Cinna is the only one in the room, and am relieved when my voice comes out steady and normal-sounding.
The cameras zoom in on Cinna, who smiles. There are more shouts and compliments from the crowd.
After getting over the initial shock, the rest of my interview is not bad. But the last question catches me off guard.
"Let's go back then, to the moment they called your sister's name at the reaping." Caesar seems to realize that this is more personal than any of his other inquiries. "And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?"
I don't want to, but I'm afraid that I'll start crying if I don't say a word.
"Her name's Prim. She's only twelve, and I love her more than anything." The crowd is silent.
"And what did she say to you? After the reaping?" Caesar asks.
I swallow hard and try not seem weak. It would be so much easier to just make something up. But Cinna's knowing eyes prompt me to be honest. "She asked me to try really hard to win." The audience is frozen, and I see tears in more than a few pairs of eyes.
"And what did you say?" Caesar continues. My body goes rigid, and I want to just run off the stage instead of sitting here, unmoving.
My eyes move from Cinna's warm brown ones and instead search for the ice-blue eyes of Cato. Once I find them, I lock my gaze in to his. The next words are almost a whisper, but magnified by a microphone clipped to my dress, every syllable is heard.
"I swore I would." The buzzer sounds, and I shake hands with Caesar and hurry off the stage before I do something stupid, like cry.
Once back in my seat, I bury my face into my hands. Don't cry. Don't cry. Katniss! Don't cry! I repeat this over and over in my head until the threat of tears has passed. I lift my head and catch the last thirty seconds of Peeta's interview.
"Handsome lad like you, there must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" asks Caesar. You can see the audience's delighted expressions, they're loving this.
Peeta answers, and goes on about how he's had a crush on one girl. "But I'm pretty sure that she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."
"So here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" Caesar encourages, genuine sympathy written across his powdered features.
"Winning…won't help in my case," says Peeta.
"Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified.
I'm sure that he is referring to Glimmer at this point. He can't go home to her, and winning won't help. And the blush that lights his face makes me almost certain.
"Because…because…she came here with me." Yup. It's Glimmer. But my mouth, along with the audience's is open with shock. It's not like Peeta to just announce something like this in front of the whole of Panem. But when the cameras flick to my face, I'm confused. Shouldn't they be capturing Glimmer's reaction? Then the truth sinks in. Me! He means me!
I drop my eyes and look at the floor, and I silently curse Peeta in my mind. Clove's never going to forget about this. Neither are the others.
And when the excited roar of the audience shakes the room, I feel a particular set of cold blue eyes watching me with renewed interest.
Hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and tell me what you're thinking about the story so far. I absolutely love reading them, although I might not reply. *hugs*
Hey guys, I would appreciate it if you checked out my other fanfiction. It's about Finnick's year in the Hunger Games.