He walked up onto the stage with his normal air of confidence that he has whenever he and Caesar were talking with each other. He was so casual and natural. I had to look away.
"Hey, Caesar! Long time, no see," Peeta laughed, shaking hands with our host.
"Truly has been, Peeta. Truly has… it's been how long? A couple months?"
"Something like that," Peeta laughed. Caesar gave a long laugh before leaning forward towards Peeta.
"So, Peeta. Tell me how you have been? What are your feelings on these Games?" he asked. Peeta's smile immediately faded into a frown. His eyes drooped and looked towards the ground.
"Caesar, I've been having the time of my life these past couple of months. I got to visit all the districts, I got engaged to the love of my life, and we…" He cut himself off, biting his lip like he shouldn't have said anything more. I could see a look in Caesar's eye, a look one could only describe as greedy. Peeta let out a loud breath before continuing, "I'm not going to lie. I hate the Hunger Games. I hate everything about them. I hate getting my hair styled, and I hate watching friends and even enemies getting killed. But mostly, I hate the fact that because of the Hunger Games, Ivy has been put in danger not once, but now twice. And I can never forgive the Capitol for that." His finger pointed offstage towards me. I tried to hide myself from his gaze. His blue eyes gazed into my eyes. "And if she doesn't make it home alive, I swear… I will make sure no one does."
There was a long moment of silence. I felt like crying, then I realized I was crying.
"You're wearing a very nice suit tonight, Peeta. What was your stylist's inspiration?" Caesar asked, trying to lighten the mood. Everyone could tell that Peeta was not joking, even me. And suddenly my chest grew very heavy. He was proving it to me. He was making me believe him. I wanted to. So badly.
I was entranced by how the light hit his profile. It made his hair glow unnaturally gold, and his eyes were sparkling. I noticed that his suit was very nice. It was a sleek blue suit with a yellow shirt under it. Only Peeta could pull it off.
"My stylist's inspiration?" Peeta smirked. His anger was beginning to grow. But the Capitol people loved it. No one could take their eyes off him. "This is my wedding suit."
There was a loud, collective gasp. Peeta clenched his jaw and nodded.
"Oh, Peeta. Is that what you regret most?" Caesar asked, voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Do you regret not getting a chance to marry Ivy Undersee?"
Peeta suddenly began to smile. The mood completely changed. Peeta was controlling this interview, not Caesar. He was so impressive.
"We did get married already." The crowd began to scream. Peeta held up his hands to calm them down. "Woah, woah. Not an official ceremony. We didn't cheat you out of one. No, not at all. We… well… It's kind of embarrassing."
"Please, tell. We won't judge you, Peeta," Caesar said, leaning forward in his chair. Peeta glanced up with a grateful look on his face.
"It's called a toasting. Back in 12, once you're married, you enter your house and toast bread together over a fire. It's not official or anything, but… but we wouldn't feel married unless we did that first. So, Ivy and I are married. At least, in our minds. And to me, that's all that matters."
There was a sigh throughout the audience. I could tell that all the girls out there were in love with him. I couldn't blame them; I realized I was smiling at Peeta.
"So, at least you can go into the arena knowing that you got the chance to be with the love of your life," Caesar smiled.
"Maybe I would be grateful, Caesar," Peeta sighed. He waited for the audience to become completely silent before saying his last words of the interview. "Maybe… if not for our baby."
And that's when his timer sounded.
"So, Ivy. We ended so suddenly with Peeta's interview. Would it be okay if we just kept going with you?" Caesar asked. I made fists around my skirts fabric. No, that was not okay. I had no clue how to lie as well as Peeta. The only reason I could fake our love was because I did love him. I couldn't fake this; I am not pregnant.
"Sure, Caesar," I said with a small smile. I tried to act embarrassed, like my husband had just announced I was pregnant. I realized that I didn't need to act. I was extremely embarrassed.
"Well, before we dive into that, can I just say that your dress is utterly breathtaking!"
I let out a sigh of relief as the audience cheered for my wedding gown. Maybe I could ramble on about Cinna for a couple minutes and avoid babies all together. I glanced into the crowd for Cinna. His jaw was clenched, and he nodded. Spin.
"Ivy!" Caesar called, causing my gaze to shoot from Cinna to him. "Remember your first interview when you spun for us?"
"Of course I do, Caesar," I smiled.
"Won't you do it again?" Caesar gestured to the audience, "For all of us?" Loud chanting began for me to spin. I let out a giggle, though I was angry inside. Angry at Peeta, angry at myself, angry at Snow. I smiled.
Standing up, I moved to the center of the stage and spun around. My eyes were closed, and I laughed. Suddenly there were loud gasps. I opened my eyes but kept spinning. My dress was on fire. I couldn't help but think again? I wasn't burning though, so I kept spinning. The fire circled around my large skirt and moved up to my bodice. Then it crawled down my arms. I stopped spinning when the fire stopped, and I was facing the crowd. Smoke circled around in the air as I stood still with my arms held out.
"What? What happened to your dress, Ivy?" Caesar asked, coughing from the smoke.
My mouth hung open as I looked at my dress. A golden pin was shining from my shoulder. My mockingjay pin.
"I'm… I'm a mockingjay," I whispered. My glance moved to Cinna, who was crying and clapping for me still. Then I looked at Haymitch, who was enraged, and Effie, who was sobbing. Finally, I looked at the screens. Half showed me, looking deadly yet beautiful in my new mockingjay gown, still smoking with small fires on the skirt and "wings". The other half showed Peeta, looking away from the cameras with his eyebrows furrowed. He looked angry was well.
"A mockingjay?" Caesar asked.
I turned and sat back down in my chair. "A mockingjay. The breed of birds that survived against all odds."
"Well, Ivy Undersee. You are most definitely a mockingjay!" Caesar shouted, looking a little fearful himself. "And your stylist has outdone himself once again, give it up for Cinna," Caesar cried out, still looking confused. What did everyone know that I didn't know? Was this… was this about the rebellion?
My buzzer went off, and I went to take my place next to Peeta. He immediately took my hand. I kept my head down, feeling ashamed for some reason. Peeta began to squeeze my hand. I looked up at him, and he gave me half of a reassuring smile. The rest of his face still looked angry. He gestured with his head towards the rest of the tributes. All of them had linked hands.
It was pointless. It was a pointless rebellion here and out in the districts. We couldn't win against the Capitol. Panem had tried already and failed. Our ancestors were the reason we were in the Games in the first place. If we tried to go against them again, how much worse would life get? I didn't care to find out. But I still held on to Peeta's hand. Because it was the only thing that was keeping me from crying.
After the interviews, Peeta kept holding onto my hand. He dragged me towards Haymitch. Haymitch grabbed my other arm, and the two dragged me away quickly, leaving me with only a small smile to give Cinna before he was out of sight. I wanted to thank him for the gown.
We were alone on the elevator, but it wasn't until we were safely in Peeta's bedroom on the 12th floor that the yelling began.
"Did you know about that, sweetheart?" Haymitch shouted.
"What?" I asked.
"Ivy," Peeta said softer. "Did Cinna ask your permission to do that?"
"Change my dress? No, he didn't. I don't care though. It was a beautiful surprise," I smiled.
Haymitch looked at Peeta, fuming. "I… I need a drink. You explain to her."
With that Haymitch stormed out of the room. I was so confused.
"What's wrong? Did I do something?"
Peeta sat down on his bed, patting for me to sit next to him. I stayed standing. He just sighed and said, "We thought you did it on purpose, as a little way to shove everything we've done back into our faces. Now we realize it was just Cinna."
"What did he do then? Can you just tell me already?"
"Mockingjay, Ivy! He made you the mockingjay!" Peeta shouted, his anger completely unleashing. I took a step back, afraid.
"What does that mean?"
"The rebellion. They've already casted you as the mockingjay. Now you've just agreed!" Peeta got up quickly and grabbed my arms, holding me close to him, gazing into my eyes intensely. "Why would you do that?"
"What's a mockingjay, Peeta? And how does it affect me?"
"The mockingjay is the leader of the rebellion, Ivy." He gulped, "And now Snow is going to try even harder to kill you."
*A/N So close to the Games, I'm getting so excited. With finals coming up like next week for me I believe, I'm probably not going to update for a while. I mean, I might, but if you've been reading my stories since the beginning, you probably realize by now that I don't have a schedule. OKAY ALSO, I don't normally do this, but I want to thank a specific reader for their kind words. Thank you very much to "HealthyHungerGamesObsession101" for your support! It means a lot to me. Thanks to everyone else who has reviewed. I just realized recently how long I write, and how bad the grammar and stuff was in "The Poisoned Ivy," and if you are still reading right now, I'm so happy. On a side note, I haven't shaved my legs for like a month, it's getting out of hand. I imagine this is how Ivy feels in the Games, or anyone for that matter. You get skinned like a rabbit for interviews, and then you're out in the arena with no razor. I'll use this experience as inspiration for my next couple of chapters. Alright. It's late. I've rambled. I love you.*