A/N: Remember me? Yeah, I'm that person who hasn't updated in about a year! I know, I'm Satan for doing that, sorry. I actually kind of forgot about this account (like I've said before, I have a worse memory than Neville Longbottom) until my friend one day goes:

Friend: Hey! How's your fanfiction account going?

Me: What account?

Friend: Oh my god. The one you wouldn't stop talking about a couple of months ago?

Me: *sweats*

So I really have no excuse.

Chapter 8: Finnick

The night of the interviews, Ellen threw up on my shoes.

I knew that she was a loser the moment they called her name.

"Oh, Finnick, I'm so sorry!" She cried. Her beautician came over and brought her as far away from me as possible, glaring at me like it was my fault. Okay. That's cool.

Venia rushed over to me a let out a stream of curses. She pulled off my shoes, making me fall, and got a pair of new ones that didn't look as good.

"I'm telling you, that girl right there should be your target in the arena. Now, these shoes don't look as good, but they'll do. Just try not to look at your feet." Yeah, right.

Venia had insisted that I wore a completely brutal looking sea-green suit, complete with a black bow tie, and silver socks. I looked like a mixture of Matt Smith and Craig Sager.

After about 14 incredibly tense and shaky minutes, I hear Caesar Flickerman's voice over a loudspeaker. "It is with my absolute pleasure to welcome our next tribute: Finnick Odair of District 4!" The crowd claps and some stupid song starts playing.

As I walk out, I hear teenage girls screaming my name and holding up cardboard hearts. Because nothing makes a boy want to date you more than a pink piece of vellum cut into the shape of an organ.

Regardless of the profound stupidity occurring all around me, I smile and wave to the crowd. They cheer even louder.

"So Finnick," Caesar says as I sit down next to him. "You seem to be attracting quite a crowd. How do you feel about that?"

What type of question is that? "Um, I'm very grateful for all the support." Complete silence. Nice going, Odair.

Then, I remembered what Venia said: You're attractive. I run my fingers throughout my hair. The crowd goes wild.

Caesar laughs. I do too, because this entire thing is just so incredibly dumb. I figured if you put all of the Capital people together, you still wouldn't have half a brain.

"Good for you, boy. That's the way to do it! Now, tell me about your life back in District 4."

That's not even a question! "At home, it's uh, you know, a lot of fishing. There's a girl I like. That's about it."

The entire stadium bursts into laughter as if they had never heard such an incredibly funny joke. It's a lot of fishing? WHAT AM I SAYING?

Flickerman asks me a bunch of more questions like that. How do you like it here? What's your best strength? What do you think of Ellen? (I didn't answer that one.) Do you think District 4 is proud to have a victor like you? I get better at answering them. Or at least, sometimes only half of the stadium laughs at me. Improvement is everything here in Panem. When the timer finally ends, Caesar and I shake hands. I wave back to the crowd, smile, and try to do that twinkling-eye thing that I'm actually pretty good at.

The second I get off the stage, Venia inspects me like I'm a cockroach. "Well done indeed, Finnick. I'm thinking we should maybe take away your sense of speaking. Maybe then, you might get a chance to win this thing."

Ouch.

She sighs. "Whatever. It's over. I highly suggest you watch Thalia's and then go directly to bed. 5:30 I want you up tomorrow morning. You need an outrageous amount of combat training."

Ichimeinwithahaventyoupeopleeverheardofclosingthegoddamndoornoitsmuchbettertofacethesekind

"Hello Thalia!" Caesar says, his voice full of a little too much enthusiasm.

She grumbles. Oh yes. This girl was made for me.

If possible, she does even worse than I did.

"Thalia, is there a special someone at Camp?"

"Absolutely not."

"Oh, alright. So, anything we should know about your camp life, or your tactics?"

"My tactics are to try and stay alive. I have a brother named Jason who I barely know. That's it."

"Okay then. What's your preferred weapon?"

"A bow and arrow."

"And would you say you're any good at that?"

"Yes."

"Good to know. What was the first thing that you wanted to do when you arrived at the Capitol?"

"Punch a wall."

Luckily, the timer went off, and Thalia stopped off stage without looking back. The crowd clapped, but it seemed more out of pity for Caesar and her brother than anything.

"Go, Finnick! Introduce yourself!" Venia scream whispers in my ear.

"What? Uh, no thanks. Not now."

Being the nice person Venia was, when Thalia walked by, she pushed me down to one knee, making it look like I was proposing. She stared at me. My cheeks were bright red.

She scowled at walked away. Now, I was the one who felt like punching a wall.

I glare at Venia so intensely she cowers away from me. "Goodnight," I say, my voice full of hatred, and walk away.

Yeah. So far, I'm loving The Hunger Games.

A/N: Yeah. My writing skills are just a little bit rusty. Tiny bit. Sorry about that.