A.N.: Hey guys! Please don't hate me, I know I haven't updated in forever. This chapter spends a lot of time with the tributes, so I had to spend a LONG time going back in the book and making sure the dialogue was correct and stuff. What you see as far as dialogue goes is exactly from the book. I would like to thank my faithful readers. And now to address reviews.

TARDISRose: I knew you'd love that he got one! I wrote that with you in mind.

Victoire Collins: I'm so glad you like it!

Ibbonray: I'm really glad you like my little details. That's a really good idea about the rule. I can't wait to use that.

spectrum700: Oh my gosh, you reviewed! I can't believe it. It means SO MUCH coming from you.

All right, I think that's it. Don't forget to review, it makes my day!

Chapter 6: Interviews

I get ready for the interviews that night. I wear a spring green dress and let my hair down. I grab my binoculars and head to the Training Center, where Caesar Flickerman's show is shot with Grandfather and Mother. We, with all the other Gamemakers, get seats in the balcony, which is reserved for important people. Grandfather, Seneca, and I get the front seats of the balcony.

"I always love seeing everyone's angles!" I say to no one in particular. Seneca and Grandfather concur. Just then, Caesar Flickerman comes out and welcomes everybody. Then, the interviews begin. Glimmer comes out, and it's obvious her angle is seductive. She has a golden see-through dress to match her flowing golden hair. From there, it all goes downhill. I barely pay attention to the interviews until Rue shows up, although the District 5 girl, Finch, is highly intelligent, and she reminds me of myself. Rue hints at her own elusiveness, saying, "If they can't catch me, they can't kill me." The District 11 male, Thresh, comes off as hostile, having short answers for everything. Then, it's Katniss's turn.

Caesar calms the audience as Thresh leaves. "From District 12...from District 12. You know her as the Girl on Fire!" The crowd roars. Katniss earned that name thanks to her beyond stellar entrance at the Parade. "Well, we know her as the lovely a Katniss Everdeen!"

She walks out, wearing a stunning fire-red dress. She's so graceful as she shakes Caesar's hand. They sit.

"So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you most since you've arrived here?"

"The lamb stew," she says with a nervous smile. The crowd, myself included, roars with laughter. I'd imagine it'd be just as funny to me if it wasn't my favorite, too.

"The one with the dried plums?" Katniss nods slightly. "Oh, I eat it by the bucketful." He puts his hand on his stomach and looks at the audience. "It doesn't show, does it?" We all clap.

"Now, Katniss, when you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?"

"You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?" She asks this with a dead serious face. I fall out of my seat from laughing, earning a dark look from Grandfather. He hates when I mess up in public. Bad publicity. But tomorrow's the Hunger Games. Nothing in the magazines will be about little Athena falling out of her chair.

"Yes. Start then," Caesar tells her.

She looks out onto the audience. "I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing this, either." She shows off her gorgeous dress. "I mean, look at it!"

She stands up and spins around. Caesar tells her to do it again. She continues, and her dress bursts into flames. Everyone cheers. I stand up and scream. I hear my screams above the whole crowd. Grandfather clutches my arm and gives me a warning stare. I jerk my arm out of his grip and scream louder. Katniss grabs Caesar's arm and is doubled over in laughter.

"Don't stop!" I hear him says over the shrieks of the crowd.

"I have to, I'm dizzy!"

He helps her sit back down. "Don't worry, I've got you. Can't have you following in your mentor's footsteps."

I laugh. The only living Mentor for District 12, Haymitch Abernathy, is a known drunk. At the Reaping, when he was on the stage, he was so drunk he nose-dived off of the stage and into the crowd.

Caesar continues, addressing the crowd. "It's all right. She's safe with me." He turns to her. "So, how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint what happened in there."

She looks up at us in the balcony. "Um...all I can say, is I think it was a first." We laugh and nod. I smirk at what an understatement that is.

Caesar winces. "You're killing us. Details. Details."

She looks at us again. "I'm not supposed to talk about it, right?"

Plutarch Heavensbee, a fellow Gamemaker, calls out, "She's not!" I hear he was so startled when she shot an arrow at us that he fell into a punch bowl. I didn't see. I was too busy actually watching her.

"Thank you," she calls back. She says to Caesar, "Sorry, my lips are sealed."

He sighs discreetly. Luckily, I'm an expert on detecting body language. "Let's get back then, to the moment they called your sister's name at the reaping. And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?"

She looks out onto the crowd. She must have somebody out there. "Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything." Everything is quiet. My blood runs cold and I get chills.

"What did she say to you? After the reaping?"

I swear I hear her voice crack. "She asked me to try really hard to win." Everyone listens intently.

"And what did you say?"

"I swore I would."

"I bet you did." The buzzer rings, signaling the end of the interview. "Sorry we're out of time. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District Twelve." She leaves as applause rings in my ears.

Peeta arrives. I try my best to listen, but I'm so distracted by what Katniss said. Nonetheless, Peeta makes me laugh by comparing the tributes to different types of bread. Apparently, he baked bread at home. He talks about the showers here, and how you can apply different scents to the water. He asks Caesar if he smells like roses. They sniff each other. Finally, Caesar asks if he has a girlfriend.

Please say no, please say no, please say no...

He shakes his head. I feel relief come over me like a tidal wave.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

Peeta sighs in defeat. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."

Okay, minus the "ever since I can remember" part, that sounds like me. I mean, he knows I exist. I helped him in training. And how would I know who he was...until the Reaping?

"She have another fellow?" Caesar asks.

Nope.

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her."

Other tributes? Staff he's heard talking?

"So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?"

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning...won't help in my case."

"Why ever not?"

Because he knows about the restrictions on people from the districts and Capitol being together?

He blushes. "Because...because...she came here with me."

Wait, Katniss?

"Oh, that is a piece of bad luck," Caesar says quietly, obviously taken aback.

"It's not good."

"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady. She didn't know?"

The forlorn boy shakes his head. "Not until now."

Caesar turns back to the audience. "Wouldn't you love to pull her back our here and get a response?" The crowd blatantly responds positively. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours." Everyone claps, Peeta returns to his seat, and we stand for the anthem.

The privileged box-dwellers, myself included, stay seated as everyone flocked toward us to greet us. It's the usual hugs and cheek-kisses, that kind of stuff. I loathe it. Monstrous-looking people offer these niceties, with the green skins and and the puffy cheeks. They think they're beautiful. "Ugly" doesn't begin to describe them, inside and out.

What really gets under my skin is how I'm supposed to pretend I know these people, when I probably haven't seen them since I was a baby. It's always the "Oh, Athena, how are you?" line and such, like they know me. Maybe I'm being too irritable. I don't know. I just want to go home.

After what seems like an eternity, I get my wish. We go home on a private Transit. I run to my room, shut the door, and go into my bathroom. Then, I'm face-to-face with my ugly, made-up, Capitol-perfect face.