A/N: So reviews were slow coming last chapter, but I'm not discouraged! I just really want to meet my goal of 150 within the next two chapters, and I don't know if I can 14 reviews in two chapters…well we'll have to see. A few voiced your concerns about not seeing many interviews last chapter, but do not fret, for last chapter was just part one, this is the real show. So, we're two chapters away, 14 reviews from my utter jubilation, and the sponsor shop is almost ready to open! So here you go, the second part of the interviews!
Maud Perrin- District Three
Leo's interview was anything but pretty; it was more like a massacre. I haven't really grown to know him, not in the way that two people in an alliance would, which is why we're not an alliance, I guess. But still, I couldn't help feeling heartbroken when he was asked about his home life. The boy just started sobbing; he cried out to the crowd and sat there with his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body up and down and I could see the salty tears streaming down his face and onto the open palms of his quaking hands. Caesar looked stunned, but I'm sure tributes have had break downs during their interviews before. As soon as a teary-eyed Leo departs the stage, the massive spotlights shine down on me and I am suddenly stumbling onto stage.
I try to wave at the crowd, pulling a disheveled smile and brushing my hair out of my eyes. My stylist didn't really cover much of my hair; she said she preferred it to look natural. So, it's not surprise that I'm finding myself constantly pushing it out of my eyes as I sit down across from Caesar and the interview commences.
"So Maud," Caesar begins comfortably, almost like we've known each other for years, and it bothers me. Something deep inside of me ticks when he rests a hand on mine and laughs loudly and acts like this whole horror show is just a little soiree at his place. Nothing is wrong according to Caesar, everything's fine. Sitting here, with every capitolite in the nation staring me down and the booming voice of Caesar Flickerman beseeching answers from me left and right, I begin to sympathize with Leo. It must've been terrifying, it is terrifying, and this whole experience can only be defined by terror.
It's not long before I'm far beyond annoyed with this interview, but I don't think Caesar's even begun yet.
"Maud, tell us, what was it like to watch your district partner get so emotional, do you think it's a sign of strength or weakness?" Caesar asks a bit too personally. I take a moment to consider his question, what it really means. On one hand, Caesar could be making fun of poor Leo for breaking down, but on the other hand he could be saying that Leo's strength is that he allows himself to show his emotions.
"You know Caesar, I think it's a strength of his. From what I've noticed, Leo is a very emotional person and he won't lie to you or cover up what he's feeling. If I had to say that his emotions are a weakness, and then I'd be lying, because they're what makes him who he is," I answer confidently, proud in what I'm saying.
That's when I realize I've made a terrible mistake.
I haven't given the capitol a spellbinding story of tragedy, romance or adventure. I haven't cheated or cozened anyone of their game; I haven't added the spices of deception and trickery to my arsenal. I'm not playing the game the way someone like a career would, and the capitol hates it. But I can tell by the gleam in Caesar's eye that he thinks the same thing. Maybe he isn't as inhuman as I thought.
The silence of the crowd is confusing, I don't know if it means they're waiting to hear more or they hate what I've said. Panic starts to set in, like fire spreading up my veins. I don't want to lose sponsors, I don't know if I had any to begin with but just because I can't give the capitol a fairytale ending doesn't mean I should pushed to the side, does it? My heart is pumping and my palms become sweaty, and Caesar plants a hand on my shoulder.
"One more thing Maud, behind all the emotion going into the games, the pain and misery and excitement and anxiety that is surrounding everything, what do you think your family is thinking back home, how do you think they feel about this," he asks, sounding genuinely sympathetic.
That's when I realize how shadowed Panem actually is, how dim the peacekeepers and president truly are. They don't even give the people who run this show full information of the tributes, and not even a full profile is required to explain what I tell to Caesar.
"I don't know," I say almost at a whisper, "My family is dead."
The comment must shock my grandmother, who is probably watching back home. How does she feel? How would she react if she saw me talking about mom and dad, imagining the moments I spent curled in a ball on the edge of my bed? My parents are gone, long forgotten, to the point where even the capitol doesn't know that one of their tributes is an orphan who lives with her grandmother, a girl without a mom or dad.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Caesar says, his voice crumbling like the cracks dirt gets after the spring rains. His voice fades into nothingness and so does the soft murmur of the capitol citizens, masquerading as sorry for a girl they don't even know. They don't know what it feels like to lose your family at such a young age, to have everything and then have nothing in an instant. They sit in their houses, they drive their cars, they attend their parties, but do they ever think that this isn't just a show? Do they ever think that perhaps someone's family is being torn apart by this monstrous show? They don't, because this is their everything, and no matter what, when you love something to a certain extent, you'll look past all the darkness that surrounds it, and see only what your heart wants you to see.
Because no one ever listens to their mind.
Rip Crevan- District Four
That exiting quip by the girl from three was so pitiful I could almost vomit. I mean really who doesn't try and play the pathetic card? Oh help me, my parents are dead, it was so traumatic for me when I was like five, oh boo hoo. Well little girl, your parents may be dead, but I killed one of mine. I killed him like the dog he was.
My itchy aqua suit rumples as I make my way onto the stage in a stiff fashion. I look like I'm walking with a pipe up my ass, which is close to the truth more than anyone would like to know. This suit is crammed into every nook of my body it's uncomfortable. My stylist thought I'd look great in it but I look more like my entire body's been starched.
Those annoying rainbow lights shine down on me as I make my way to my seat, every color of the spectrum running over my body. I hate it, I hate this suit and I hate all these people. My hair is plastered to my face courtesy of a full bottle's worth of hairspray, another thing I have to thank my stylist for. God this suit itches.
Plopping down a bit too quickly in the plush chair set out for me, Caesar immediately shakes my hand vigorously. I think about snatching it back but know better than that. I can't look unapproachable, not now. I'm sure the tricks up my sleeve will either make sponsors come running towards or away from me, but for now I need to look nice, presentable, worthy.
"Richard," Caesar begins, but I swiftly cut him off,
"Oh just call me Rip, everyone does," I say with a killer smile.
"Oh what a name," Caesar says with an impressed smile, and I don't know if he's serious or if he's mocking me. The crowd laughs, like it's a joke or something, but I honestly don't see what's so funny.
'Aren't you supposed to be asking me questions?" I hotly ask Caesar who pricks an eyebrow at me.
"Well, someone wants to get to the point," he says, and another resonating boom of laughter rises from the crowd. Caesar is infectious, it's like any word that comes out of his mouth carries all the emotion in the world with it, and the crowd roars with laughter or cries with dissembled sincerity at his words.
I'm annoyed at this point, and Caesar's lack of questions and aptitude to play on my anger is starting to make my blood boil. His pearly white teeth flash at me, nearly blinding my eyes. This capitol man, this perfect, stupid, capitol man thinks he knows me. Well he doesn't.
"So if you're not going to say anything to me, I might as well ask you a few questions," I begin, and Caesar seems a bit taken aback. He goes to say something, but I cut him off, a bit quicker to the punch than he is.
"Who do you think is going to win? I mean you've seen everyone haven't you? I'm sure the scores were enough to key you in on a few things. So tell me, who looks good out of the bunch, I know Blondie and I did well, but that Maple girl? Oh that's a joke, something to stir the pot. What do you think?" I ask a bit hurriedly, licking the corners of my lips every so often.
Caesar is shocked, but he answers, surprising me a bit too.
"You certainly seem prepared enough," he says, drawing the attention of the capitol.
"Oh I'm prepared," I say, beginning conversation more than interview, "I know I'm prepared. See, I've done something no one here ever has before. They may swing their swords all day long but have they ever sunk them into real flesh? These dummies, these fake props and sorry excuses for practice, they're nothing. It's one thing to bury a knife in a mannequin's chest but what about someone real, someone living."
Caesar's eyes flick to the corners of the stage, obviously checking the cameramen. He's probably searching for someone to cut the interview, to drown out my words and send me off the stage, I can tell he's afraid. But he replies once again, wetting his lips with the edge of his tongue before he talks.
"Why do you say that?" He asks, eyes flighty and barely focused on me.
"Because Caesar," I say, bringing my voice to a whisper, "Unlike these buffoons," I laugh for a moment at my choice of words, "I've killed before."
The comment seems to paralyze Caesar, making him freeze in his seat. Beads of sweat form at the pale line between his hair and forehead, the shimmering blue dye coming with it a bit. I bet these capitol citizens never sweat, they never have to do any work. I've worked my whole life; I didn't waste my time sitting in that prison. I trained every day, lifting weights and kickboxing with the instructors. I may be an outcast back in Four, labeled a freak and only spoken of in whispers.
But here, I'm someone different; I'm someone to be feared. And I know why, because in that arena, when the games begin, I won't be the loser I've been for so long.
I'll be a winner.
Amerilia Hesterfield- District Five
Following Ula is a hard act, but my shining silver gown glows resplendently in the low lighting of the stage, and the cyan lights that shower me reflect off of my hair nicely. Eyeliner matching my dress graces the edges of my eyes and Caesar kisses my hand with a warm smile as I take a seat next to him.
"Amerilia," he says, drawing in an awed breath, "Such a beautiful name. Tell me, why did your parents pick that name?"
He immediately touches a soft spot with his words, making my heart beat a bit faster. Mentioning my family sends images of them into my head, their smiling faces and warm expressions flashing by instantly. My heart aches, I long to see them, knowing I probably won't ever again makes it worse. But I can't think like that, I've got to win so I can see them again, and I certainly have to say something to Caesar so I don't blow this interview.
"I think for the very reason you suggest Caesar," I say, flitting my eyelashes a bit, "Because of its beauty."
"Well-spoken words from a beautiful girl," Caesar says with a small grin. He looks to the crowd who all make sounds of adoration. They're his puppets.
"So Amerilia, what do you think separates you from everyone here? What'll make you a tribute to remember?" His questions are grand, each word carefully placed in the midst of his luxurious voice. That voice of his, it's so grandiose, so defined, there's something about it.
"I think I'll be underestimated Caesar," I say, "I don't think I'll be taken seriously, but I've got a trick or two up my sleeve."
"And what would those be?" He asks, wanting to know badly.
"A girl has to have some secrets, right?" I laugh, smirking and flashing my polished teeth at the crowd. I bounce my shoulders as I laugh, scanning the crowd and gaining their support. Soon, their laughs aren't derived from Caesar, they come from me.
"I suppose so," Caesar says, grinning from ear to ear. Knowing I've recovered my interview from the startled moment I had at the beginning, I don't miss a beat now. The interview continues on, his garrulous questions and effervescent mood heightening the crowds excitement. I match his pace, smiling and laughing at all the right moments. Caramen's interview was pathetic compared to the banter Caesar and I carry.
I think about Caramen while all of this happens around me, how he nearly folded up and blew away with the wind during the short time he spoke to Caesar. He was trembling, the visible tremors wracking his body up and down as he spoke on the stage. He was swallowed by the capitol tonight, devoured and spat out without a moment's consideration. Caramen didn't shine in the light like I am.
All the better for me.
One thing worries me though as Caesar and I begin to conclude the badinage. How many girls will work the likable and beautiful front tonight? I know Cassia went for power and Maud focused on emotion but so far you could call Allure's, Ula's, and my own interview pretty close to exactly the same. We laughed with Caesar, joked with him, tried to win the capitol over.
But are we really doing the right thing?
"Amerilia," Caesar says soothingly, his voice like cashmere, "One more question." He locks his misty azure eyes on me, smiling sweetly. If anyone could ever look like the devil, then it would be the man who sits before me, with his charming voice and captivating stare. He's not attractive, but something about him just makes everyone want to follow his lead.
"Are you proud to represent District Five in the Hunger Games? Or do you wish someone else could be here instead?"
It's a bold question, something I'm not sure he should be asking. But questions like these have been slipping out of his mouth all evening so I give it an answer before anyone can stop me.
"I think everything happens for a reason Caesar, and if I wasn't sitting here with you today, it would still happen, just later," I answer. The crowd is confused by my answer; they never put thought like that into their feelings. But I know I've captured the attention of Caesar, and for once, all eyes aren't on him.
Aden Hanran- District Eight
My hair lights up the room like a burst of flame, the electric red coloring gleaming against the close lights. I smile and wave as I strut onto stage, trying my best to exude confidence. I steal a glance behind me at Daedrya, who winks to send me a message of good luck. I wouldn't say the two of us are allies, but I definitely don't think she'll put a knife through my back anytime soon. After all, we are from the same district.
My crisp black ensemble makes me look good, and the lone flare of red coming from my tie makes the whole thing come together. I don't think the capitol is excited as it was when the first tribute walked on stage, but they still sound pretty enthused over my entrance. I'm not showy about it, just trying to draw attention to all the right places.
Sitting down next to Caesar, I instantly think back to Loot's interview, how he talked about his life in District Six. I know Colleen and I had to survive without a house with our kids, but at least we had a strong group to support us, Loot claimed to live alone. The emotional pain that consisted of his interview sent waves of sympathy throughout the room and his whole time on stage was rather lachrymose.
My thoughts about Loot are shattered by Caesar's bellowing, making my attention drawn towards the cacophony. Startled by the noise, I jump a bit, earning laughs from the crowd. Caesar chuckles a bit too, and I play off the thing like a joke.
"Sorry," I blurt out, "My thoughts were elsewhere," I admit.
"At a time like this?" Caesar raves and slaps my knee, driving the crowd crazy. "What could be more important than the current situation you're in?"
"Well, when you've got a certain someone on your mind, then everything seems less important," I say back with half a smile.
"A certain someone?" Caesar balks and the crowd hushes with murmurs of my comment.
"Not just any someone," I say to Caesar, lifting an eyebrow. He returns the gesture, obviously interested in my comment.
"I've got a wife in two kids back in Eight," I confess, "And I'd do anything to get back home to them."
The crowd gasps, each one shocked. None of them expected that I'd be married, not even then would I have kids. The false pity in the air is palpable and in a way it makes me feel wonderful and disgusted at the same time. I know that my family back home can win me sponsors, people love a tribute with something to fight for, but at the same time, knowing that these people only care about me for the money they can win off their sick little bets twists my mind into such an uncomfortable state that it makes me want to vomit my dinner.
"That's something," Caesar says quietly, taking in my story.
"Something indeed," I respond at a lower voice, thoughts of my life back in Eight surfacing in my mind. Lola and Hunter, their sweet faces, and Lena's warm smile, all of them rise in my thoughts and I fight the urge to cry. I never cry, it's something I never have time for, but here, on this stage, surrounded by so much cosmetic vanity that I could scream, the emotions I feel are alien to the ones that normally fill my thoughts. I never thought I would be severed from the life I had in Eight, but here I am, a day away from the Hunger Games.
Caesar slaps me awake from my thoughts with another question, properly timing it to allow me to experience just enough emotion for the cameras. Then, he pipes up and the trance is broken, sending me back to the stage and his blinding smile.
"How do you think your family feels? Will they be able to survive if you don't make it through?"
His question paralyzes me, because I didn't think he would have the courage to say such a thing to me. Of course I'm going to make it through; I don't know if Morgan will support my family if I'm not there to solidify the pact. If I'm gone, can I trust them to take care of Lola, Hunter and Lena?
"I'm going to survive," I say sternly, kindling amusement on Caesar's face. I don't know what he finds amusing, but then his words clear it up for me.
"I don't think I've ever seen a tribute so certain," he says, "And may I wish you the best of luck." He shakes my hand firmly and rises with me, signaling the end of my interview.
"Aden Hanran everybody!" He chants in a grandiose manner and the crowd goes wild. The love my ambition, my cheekiness, and above all, my family.
Maybe this will work out for me after all.
Cynthia Pratt- District Nine
Could these interviews get more tiresome? Everybody is just going on and on and by the time they call for District Nine I'm nearly asleep. The black dress I'm wearing doesn't lend much to my figure, and no one is really jumping out of their seats for me as I walk across the stage. It's ok, I wouldn't either.
I've been watching Caesar all night through the JumboTron, flashes of his face and whatever tribute is sitting next to him dancing across the screen. But now, sitting next to him, I experience a whole different feeling. This evening more than ever he has been touching on dangerous topics, discussing the tributes individual feelings about the games and how they will prevail over the others. It seems gruesome, but I prepare myself anyway for the flow of questions he might send my way.
He begins with a simple one.
"So Cynthia, how are you enjoying the capitol?"
Right away, pain burns in my heart, how dare he use that name. The name only my mother calls me by, the tender love and affection that goes into when said. Everyone calls me Ember for a reason, but only my mother calls me Cynthia. To have this capitolite man, this person who doesn't even know anything about me say it like it's nothing rips a hole in my heart and I wince a little every time he uses it.
"Cynthia? Are you alright?" Caesar asks, worried at the fact that his first simple question stunned the girl across from him.
"I'm fine," I lie, "I was just thinking," I murmur, low enough so only he can hear it. I'm sure he's dealt with stuff like this before, when someone can barely follow his lead.
"Well, maybe a different question would be better," he says, in a voice unlike the grand tone he's been using all evening, this voice is low, almost like he's only trying to have a conversation with me and not all of Panem.
I can see the large JumboTrons in the corners of the room, displaying vibrant images of my face. I look different, nothing like the girl from Nine I know myself to be. Did I leave her behind at the train station? Has coming here changed me into something I'm not? Sure I hunted back in Nine, I can track things and pick up a scent, but will releasing an arrow against a squirrel be the same as shooting a human?
Caesar can tell my thoughts are anywhere but here, so he fires off another question in hopes of wrangling me back to the stage, even though I'm sitting but two feet away from him.
"When the games begin, what will be on your mind?" He asks another question that is certainly not a better question than the first one. Susan appears in my mind, and the mother who abandoned morphling to help a family she left behind. How are they now? Has mother found a way to make things work without me there? Susan can't do much of anything for herself, and well, I don't know if all the drugs have impaired mother from working or not. It's best not to worry but how can I when knowing that if I die in this arena then my family probably will too.
That's when I know the answer to Caesar's question.
"Before I left for here, I made a promise to my family," I say aloud, the crowd can hear me at last. "I've never liked the name Cynthia, it's just too formal for a girl like me. I picked the name Ember, the start of something big, a fire, because it made me feel like an individual. But I realized before I left that I wasn't acting like it. So, I told my family that I would become more than just an ember, but I will grow into something big at last, a dazzling inferno that will win these games for my family."
My speech is true to how I feel, and I think Caesar can tell that. The crowd erupts in smatters of applause, but the only thing that matters to me is the look in Caesar's eyes that let me know I've said the right thing.
"And what a dazzling inferno you'll become," he whispers, to me and me only. I may not have had faith in myself before I came here, but now I do, and I'm beginning to think that with my new allies, the crowds deafening roars and Caesar's approving smile, I'm not the only one.
Sasha Galem- District Twelve
Oh how positively dull these interviews have become; someone just has to get out there and spice things up a bit. Good thing I'm next. The last tribute to be interviewed of the night, I watch as Icarus dolefully treads off the stage, meaning it's time for me to take the spotlight. My gossamer pink gown shows skin in all the right places and the make-up and jewelry I'm adorned with makes me look like some exotic princess. I like it though, and I'm about to play it up.
"My oh my," Caesar says raising his eyebrows and turning to the crowd, "What do we have here?" I blow kisses to the crowd and wink at people in the front seats, reviving the hypnotic state Icarus cast on the crowd. They claw in my direction, desperately trying to get a piece of me.
"I have right to believe you're Sasha," Caesar says with a gleam in his eye like a cat about to pounce on a mouse, "The little firecracker from the chariot rides."
I giggle like a schoolgirl, "Well you've guessed right," I say, blowing another kiss to the crowd.
"Now tell me, you're quite the opposite of what we normally get from Twelve, so what makes you different?" He asks, interested in how I can be so dazzling from a place like Twelve. Well I could tell him the truth and say it's all an act because I'm not stupid like Icarus, but that wouldn't be any fun, so I weave another fabricated tale in hopes of adding a few more sponsors to my already growing fan base.
"Before I left, my father told me that I had to be positive, if I just pouted for myself because I was here, then what good would that do. I had to get over the fact that I'd been reaped, something a lot of these tributes haven't done yet, and now that I'm confident with where I am, I can play this game to its fullest," I say, making sure to keep my posture straight and smile beautifully. Many girls have come on stage tonight, and Ula's stunning interview aside, I think I might be up there with the best of them this evening.
"Those are big words coming from a girl like you, how do you plan on surprising the other tributes in the arena?" He asks, but I give him a cross stare that reeks of sarcasm.
"Now Caesar," I say in a pouty voice, "If I were to tell you my secrets then they wouldn't be secrets now would they?"
He laughs and the crowd is sent into a state of hysteria. Everyone loves me and after a few more questions and a goodbye kiss on the hand from Caesar, I'm on my way with the supportive roars of all of the capitol behind me.
Damn this is easy.
Sorry things are taking longer than planned, I'm just really busy, but now that we're passed the interviews I can promise two more chapters this week! That's right! The final chapter before the games and the bloodbath will be up before the week is over! The games are approaching, and we're so close! Be sure to leave reviews, I was a bit disappointed with the attention last chapter got but maybe this will be different? I'm not abandoning this story or anything like that, I just haven't had a good chance to write, so please help me reach my goal of 150 reviews before the games begin!
On another note, after next chapter, I will be building the Sponsor Shop forum and sending all of you who are interested in obtaining a line of credit with the shop a PM. Be sure to PM me- this is important- after the next chapter is published. Don't do it now, just wait until next chapter.
I think that's all for now, so thanks to all the wonderful support!
Oh! Be sure to check out the fabulous new story from one of my favorite authors on the website, nightfuries! To Marvel At Death is the name of it, but you sort of have to read A Grimm Set of Games First. They're both fantastic reads so be sure to check them out!
Thanks again guys, it's because of everyone who sends in all the support that this story is thriving! Your reviews and words of praise make me want to continue, so if you love this story and aren't reviewing, please do, because it makes a difference, it really does.
May the odds be ever in your favor.
-AdmiralBobbery