Author's Note: TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY! :D
Interviews.
A Cannon in the Wind;
The Fifth Hunger Games.
Ula Dylan, 18;
District Four Female.
"Welcome, people of the Capitol! Tonight's the night you've all been waiting for. Tonight, we'll get to meet twenty-four amazing tributes. Tonight, we'll fall in love and maybe even cry. Tonight is the interview for the Fifth annual Hunger Games!"
Even though I'm not even onstage yet, the screams and cheers of the Capitol people are devastating. The ground shakes, almost as if this is some sort of earthquake. We didn't have earthquakes very often in District Four—but whenever we did, it was a terrifying experience. I guess it makes sense for me to associate terror with what's about to happen.
I'm nervous. Nobody in their right mind wouldn't be nervous for the interviews. If I screw up tonight, I might as well kiss my chances goodbye. Because without sponsors, I'm as good as dead.
And with Caio standing behind me, his forehead shining with sweat and his eyes widened in anxiety, I'm not reassured in the slightest. He practically tore his hair out this morning contemplating what strategy to use for his interview. And then Cassian made some offhanded remark, which made Caio say something really rude—and long story short, I had to deal with them arguing for a few hours rather than actually work on our strategies.
But I may be alright. Luckily for me, years and years of observing people have made me a master in the art of deception. I know exactly how to act for every situation, exactly how to hold myself and exactly how to smile. My allies don't even know the real me, the me back home. All they see is the Ula I project, the individual Ula for each member of my squad.
Strong and reassuring for Caio. Trustworthy and accepting for Breno. Cheery and talkative for Kaya. Realistically, this alliance probably wouldn't work out without me. I'm the sort of person each of my allies need in order to gain the trust that's necessary if we're going to survive longer than a day.
I'm not manipulating them. I'm not. I just… I just know that they wouldn't trust me if they knew the real Ula. Back in District Four, I was too quiet and hardworking to really make any friends. The only person that ever opened up to me was Pond, and that was probably only because he was attracted to me.
I'm not a bad person, though. Quiet I may be, my little sisters mean the world to me. I'd do anything for them. I love them—so much so that I signed myself up for a week of unimaginable pain and suffering just to save one of them. I just can't imagine life without them.
And whenever I think of my sisters, it reassures my conviction to keep this alliance running. I can be optimistic all I want—but with the Games just a night away, I can't keep fooling myself that things will be alright. Things won't be alright. I won't last too long without any allies, even with my training score of 6.
That's why I have to...manipulate my way to victory. I can't kill. I'd never, ever be able to take a life. But Caio can. Kaya can. Even Breno, when push comes to shove, can do it. But I'll never be able to.
I just have to look like I'll be able to.
"Get ready," the man in front tells us, his voice monotone and bored. Us tributes were forced into a line, District One all the way to District Twelve, girl first and boy second. Standing in front of me is the little District Three boy, his brown hair did up into a spiky sort of style.
He doesn't deserve something like this. I stand up straighter, forcing my features to remain passive. Tonight, I'll have to somehow woo the Capitol into liking me. There's no way I'd be able to do something like that if all I can think about is how unfair this all is, about how much I hate them all, about how much I wish someone would just drop a bomb into the crowd and kill everyone.
I can't let them know I despise their very existence.
"Reigning all the way from District One, let's start the show with Adeline Callard!" Aeliana Devrine's excited shouts are a direct contrast to the atmosphere down here in the waiting room. The girl from District One slowly cuts out of the line and makes her way upstairs—and as soon as she takes her first steps onstage, the crowd's cheers grow in magnitude.
There's a TV down here in the waiting room, and I use that to watch Adeline take her seat in the big plushy couch. The girl looks absolutely stunning, with her blonde hair curled and her big blue dress frilling everywhere. The crowd loves her already—and trying to ignore the big green eyes of Aeliana, Adeline manages to wave at them.
"My, what a big dress you have on, dear." The superstar Capitolite snickers behind her hand. "You almost look like a child!" It's not said in a demeaning way, but the look in Aeliana's eyes tell me that she wanted the comment to hurt. And by the way Adeline turns bright red, forcing out a chuckle, it did.
Surprisingly enough, though, the first interview of the night goes by splendidly. Minus a few more jabs from Aeliana, everything goes by smoothly and the crowd is applauding loudly as Adeline exits. Still, as she comes back downstairs and I can finally get a good look at the girl, her eyes are watery and all she can mumble to Jewell Galamory—Victor of the First Hunger Games—is how spiteful and mean Aeliana was.
"I know, I know," the Victor says, ushering the girl to an elevator. "She's a real bitch. But the audience loved you anyway."
I gulp, forcing my attention away from the two as Aeliana Devrine calls up Vesper. I hope she doesn't say bad things about me. I really, honestly, truly don't know how I'd respond to public humiliation.
My thoughts are cut short, however, when I hear a gasp from the audience. I shoot my eyes back to the TV, just in time to see Vesper stand up and glare down at the Aeliana.
"I'm not like Adeline. Don't fuck with me!" He snarls, clenching his fists. Already I can see Peacekeepers huddling in the distance, ready to intervene should something catastrophic happen. "Before you have the nerve to judge someone else, why don't you actually grow some real fucking hair? You piss me off." And then, Vesper turns towards the audience, who seems to shrink at his glare. "All of you are disgusting. Every single one of you! Watching kids fight to the death and then holding ceremonies about it? Why don't we bomb your fucking houses, burn your families, murder your kids? Huh?! How would you all like that?!"
There's absolute silence. Two years ago, both tributes of District Eleven mouthed off to Aeliana and the Capitol, sorta like this. It wasn't a shocker when, in the Arena, acid rain poured down and killed them. Ever since then, most tributes don't dare say anything bad, less they end up like the two from Eleven. Or rather, they say rebellious things on the slick, but nothing too serious.
This, though, is serious. And as Vesper stomps offstage, eventually walking past me and to the elevator, I can't help but shake my head. He's as good as dead. The Capitol would never allow a rebel to win the Games. The closest they've got to a rebel Victor is Sylvan Barnes from Seven, but he's more sour than anything.
Even though I agree with Vesper, I can't do what he just did. Because it'll accomplish nothing more than my face in the sky and my cannon in the wind.
"Well then," Aeliana mumbles, the smile on her face looking quite forced. She's pissed off. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm the only one who notices how fake she is. "Interesting choice of words. But no matter! Next up is the lovely Echo Woods from District Two!"
The girl from Two walks onstage in a fiery red dress, matching her beautiful fiery red hair. Honestly, I don't want to say someone from District Two looks great, knowing they endorse the Hunger Games almost as much as the Capitol—but she really does look great.
"So, Ms. Woods. That was quite a spectacle at the Reaping, wasn't it?" Aeliana starts the interview off smoothly, a direct contrast from her attitude with the Ones. "You're not defenseless, as your training score proves. So who was that crying for someone to volunteer for you? A relative of some sort?"
Echo simply smiles, the expression on her face looking so weird considering how she acted in front of us other tributes. She's so fake. But I can read her like a book.
"That was my girlfriend, Reyna. I actually wasn't planning on volunteering, y'know? I was training to become a Peacekeeper—but it looks like fate has other plans in store for me." Echo continues smiling, even as she says the next chilling words. "If the Capitol wants me to prove my worth by killing a few kids, I'll do it. All they are is rebels, right?"
She ends her interview spectacularly, no mess-ups like Adeline and no angry outbursts like Vesper. The crowd loved her, and so did Aeliana. Echo is already a favorite, and a contender at that. I saw the way she was looking at our alliance during training. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of her effortlessly raising her sword to cut us down. We'll have to watch our backs, definitely.
The next person to be called up is Kostos Sylett from District Two. He looks hot, not even going to lie. The female members of the audience are practically squealing his name as he sits down, adorned in a red suit. He smiles at them, then at Aeliana.
"You look beautiful today, ma'am," he says in that gentle voice of his. A grin suddenly comes onto his face. "Your hair is simply extravagant."
At the mention of hair, Aeliana winces, but still manages a smile. "Thank you, sweetie. I do try to look my best when I'm talking in front of the entirety of Panem."
"And I try to look my best, too, when I'm headed off to a battle royale." And they both laugh. Kostos plays off the charming, humorous volunteer excellently. At the end of it, I can't even tell that he's here to eventually kill me. He may come off a bit flippant at times, but it adds to the charm. As he walks offstage, the Capitol audience is chanting his name.
It makes me nervous, definitely, but it also reassures me how easily the Capitol is buying their tricks. If they can captivate the Capitol, I know I can. I have to be able to. If not for me, then for my family back home.
"Next in line is the youngest female, coming all the way from District Three. Give it up for Iris Logan!"
The little girl is a big bucket of nerves as she stumbles her way onstage. Honestly, though, she looks amazing in that little brown dress of hers. Her prep team really did their best to make the girl beautiful, because she's absolutely stunning for someone of her age. I just can't help but shake my head, though, when Iris' eyes meet the large crowd in front of her, and her expression almost freezes to one of absolute shock and fear.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell your friends and family back home?" Aeliana asks the girl, a small bit of concern and pity in her voice. Even Capitolites know when something is terribly wrong, I guess.
Iris bites her bottom lip, before an unconvincing smile manages to spread across her face. "Mom, d-dad, please don't worry. I-I'm really enjoying it here, a-and I'll be back home soon. I promise..."
No... I force the tears from forming in my eyes. Unlike Isla, Iris didn't have an older sibling to volunteer for her. When her name was called on that fateful day, her time in this world was instantly cut short. I want to run onstage and wrap the girl in my arms. I want to protect her, like how I'd want someone to protect my little sisters if they were ever put in this horrible situation.
But I can't. Because if I do that, I might as well jump off my pedestal tomorrow. If I get attached to any of the little kids, there's no way I'd be able to...kill them. And watching someone else kill them would drive me off the deep end. It's best if I just...forget about her.
Look at me. I'd never, ever, ever be able to forget a little girl in trouble back in District Four. My adopted sister River is a clear example of that. But now that I'm in the Capitol, they're changing me. They're turning me into someone I never wanted to be. A tribute.
Iris walks back down into the waiting room—and instantly, her Escort is there to comfort her. I stare at the sight, completely puzzled. Why would a Capitolite ever do something like that? They're all evil. Every single one of them. I can't let them fool me, because all it'll take is one second of dropping my guard for them to throw me back into a burning building.
Where do you think the burns on my leg came from? My prep team managed to cover most of it with makeup, but no-doubt Aeliana will ask me about it. How could someone like me possibly acquire burns like this?
It was the Capitol. All the misfortune in my life happened because of people from the Capitol. My family helped in the war, as did most families in District Four. We weren't as crazy as the ones from Seven and Eleven, but we were tough. Tougher than most. As I helped, I honestly didn't realize what I was doing. Sending covert messages and even placing bombs in certain places was just something I did to make my family proud. I didn't understand the wrath of the Capitol, the severity of the jobs I was told to do.
And yet, no matter how much I helped, the Rebellion failed. I failed.
My mother was an influential rebel leader. We should have known what was to come. We really should have. But we didn't. Losing the war and thousands of our people were bad enough; we didn't think the Capitol would do anything more. But now I know. The Capitol isn't one to sweep things under the carpet. They finish things as efficiently as humanly possible—no matter how cruel and twisted.
One day, my family and I were sitting in the kitchen, eating breakfast. My father was out at work. It was a sullen time, after losing the war, but it was okay because we still had each other. But not for long. Suddenly, soldiers of the Capitol broke down our door and swarmed in our house. They captured my mother and knocked her out. They questioned where our father was. Frantic, I screamed that they would never find him and that they better let my mommy go.
The effect of that outburst was them grabbing me as well. I screamed and screamed, fighting back as hard as I could at just twelve-years-old. But I was no match for the strong men, and I watched in horror as they threw me, my mother, and so many other people into a barn. Before I even knew what was happening, the Capitol men had set the barn on fire.
I tried to look for my mother, but the people inside were going hysterical with fear. There was no way I could've found her…
Long story short, I crawled through a little opening meant for the animals and just managed to get away from the flame creeping up my leg.
I close my eyes, trying and nearly failing at keeping the tears away. The screams of anguish coming from the burning barn was horrific. And just knowing that my mother was in there, screaming alongside them…
I shake my head, taking deep breaths. I don't need to think about that. Stop thinking about it, Ula. Because if you continue thinking about it, you won't be able to keep your mouth shut onstage.
And that's something I can't have happening. Losing control onstage would not only kill me, but endanger the rest of my family. Dad, Brooke, Isla, River, even Solomon… I don't even want to think about what'd happen to them if I said something out of line.
"And next, one of the more younger boys. Please give a warm welcome to Tet Kender of District Three!"
The boy, looking sharp in his silver suit, walks onstage in an almost mechanical way. He doesn't acknowledge the crowd cheering for him, and hardly does he acknowledge Aeliana trying to help him onto his seat. Tet just sits down and stares up at the ceiling, his eyes focused on something non-existent. He's another poor child condemned to a fate that'll do nothing more than eat him alive.
"So, Mr. Kender," Aeliana starts. "Your score of 5. I know it's against the rules to tell us exactly what you did, but—"
"I didn't do anything. I stabbed a dummy with a knife and walked out." Tet looks away from the ceiling and at Aeliana. I notice, for the first time, Tet's eyes are wide and almost fearful. What happened to the indifferent child from before? "Do I deserve my score? I don't know."
"Oh..." Aeliana quickly changes the subject, the audience puzzled at the boy's almost erratic behavior. She asks him a ton of other questions, and Tet answers them all in short statements. By the time his buzzer rings, signaling that his three minutes are up, Aeliana and the crowd of Capitolites are almost bored to death.
But then... "Why do you all wear these fake accessories?" Tet asks Aeliana, to which she just blinks. "You don't need a wig to look pretty. That's just superficial. You're beautiful just the way you are."
And then that's it from him. I stare at Tet as he passes me, his face closed off. Was that a last ditch effort to gain sponsors? He just ended up sounding weird, honestly. But he's just a little kid. He's here a million years before his time. What is someone like him supposed to say that'll keep him alive?
Suddenly, I feel a hand on my back. I glance behind me. It's the Capitol man. He's… He's inching me forwards. Why? Wait…
I realize with crystal clear clarity that I'm next. After the District Three boy is the District Four girl. Me. I'm the female representative from District Four. I'm...finally going onstage in front of thousands and thousands of Capitolites.
"Now please welcome District Four's very first volunteer… Ula Dylan!" Aeliana's voice is as high-pitched as ever. I would always shake my head whenever I heard her childish squeals on TV. Never did I ever think she'd be using that same tone to call my name.
I take a deep breath and let the Capitol man usher me forward. The steps to the stage seem long and daunting from my position on the floor—but when I take my first steps, it's like time fast-forwards. Before I know it, I'm at the top of the steps, and the lights of the cameras momentarily blind me.
Spots in my vision, I continue walking. It's like all the outside noise, like the cheers of the crowd and the sounds of cameras flashing, is dulled, and all I can hear is the beating of my heart and the sound of my heels slapping against the wooden floor. As I get closer and closer to the smiling face of Aeliana Devrine, I can't help but notice how outrageously yellow her hair is, and how sparkly her teeth is. On TV, it's noticeable how much work she's gotten done on her appearance—but it's almost surreal seering her like this in real life.
I wonder, how will my family react to seeing me on the television? The thought is enough for me to wipe the mild amazement off of my face and put on a small smirk. Cassian told me that, because of the Reapings, the Capitol will want to see me as mature and capable. I can be mature, capable, and so much more. I can be… I can be anything the Capitol wants me to be.
Will I like it? No. Will I be secretly cursing their very existence? Most definitely. But they won't know that.
Because I need them to like me. I need sponsors. I don't need that old Gamemaker to target me.
I need to win.
For my family, for Pond, and for myself.
Ceres Cantrell, 13;
District Six Female.
Even more stupid than the Chariot Rides, the fudging Interviews.
Just wonderful, I think, watching as Ula Dylan sits down in the overly large couch. This is so not a waste of time. Not at all. Why don't we have a freaking dance party, too, afterwards? Or better yet, why not give us time to write an essay on the importance of the Hunger Games and why the Capitol is the best place on earth?
They're idiots. I hate the Capitol for doing this to us, to me. None of what we've been doing and what we're about to do is for me. Walking onstage in front of all of those people during the Reapings wasn't for me. Waving at spoiled, colourful people during the Chariot Rides wasn't for me. Getting dressed up in this purple dress and having my hair done up like this isn't for me.
And dying in the Hunger Games isn't for me, either.
"So, Ms. Dylan," Aeliana says, smiling excitedly. Apparently the constant dishes at her fake yellow hair isn't stopping her enthusiasm just quite yet. "I think we all want to know just what happened to your leg. How did it get burned to such a degree?"
"Oh." Ula chuckles. What's funny about getting burned? "There was a fire in my house. I managed to save my entire family before it fell in on itself. The burn on my leg is proof on how much I care about my loved ones."
I believe we all understand how much you care about your loved ones, I think as Aeliana finishes the interview up. You care about them so much that you're risking your life to save one of them. How heroic.
I can't help but feel a small bit of resentment as the crowd goes crazy for Ula. They loved her. Their perfect little volunteer, their perfect little puppet. She played the interview amazingly, and now she's going to benefit from it. How is that fair to tributes like me? I didn't voluntarily choose to be here. And the most I'm going to do on that stage is stutter out short little responses.
The Capitol's going to forget about me. Cannon fodder for the main characters, they'll see me as. And yet, that just may be a good thing. The more attention I bring to myself, the more the Capitol's going to expect from me, and the more disappointed they'll be when they realize I'm borderline useless.
It's better if I just stay in the background. I'm not a self-deprecating person, but I'm realistic—and realistically, the thirteen-year-old girl from Six isn't going to make it longer than the eighteen-year-old boy from Two. There's only one thing going for me; I'm smart. Smarter than a lot of these other tributes, that is. Smarter than Michael, who believes that everything's going to turn out perfectly. Smarter than Ula, who thinks volunteering for her little sister is going to automatically make her the winner.
I may not be able to last five seconds against someone with a weapon, but I may be able to survive on just my wits alone. Or my luck—though I haven't been very lucky lately.
"Next on our list of lovely tributes is Caio Artelle from District Four!" Aeliana exclaims, cutting me out of my thoughts. As the boy steps out of line and walks up the steps, I realize just how close I am to going up there myself. What am I going to say? How am I going to keep myself together with thousands upon thousands of eyes on me? I may be a sarcastic ass on the inside, but on the outside I can hardly look a person in the eye.
If only Vita hadn't spent all her time helping Breno, that favorite-picking bitch.
Language, I tell myself automatically, but then wince at the voice inside of my head. It's not my own voice; it's my mom's. She would always scold me on my language and my behavior—because even though I rarely talked to people at school, I was the complete opposite at home. With people I don't know, I'm introverted and weird. But with my loved ones, I'm loud and rude.
Now that I'm here in the Capitol, I wish that I could've been a bit more respectful and appreciative towards my mother. She's going to see me die on television, and the only memories she'll have are me being a total sarcastic witch. She always wanted me to act a bit more girly, but I'd just ignore and yell at her.
Well look at me now, mom. Adorned in a sparkling purple dress and crystal heels, I think I'm the girliest girl in all of District Six. At least you'll have something good to say about your daughter before her cruel demise.
The thought makes me smile, but it does nothing to replace the utter agony I feel deep inside. I'm going to die. I don't want to die. I really, really don't want to die.
I'm just a little girl, okay? Underneath my shy demeanor and underneath my snarky attitude, I'm still just a girl that hasn't even lived a fourth of her life. Why am I being forced to captivate a bunch of rich idiots? Why am I being forced into a situation that nobody should ever, ever have to go through?
I don't ask for much. I just... I just want to see my parents again. I want to yell at my mom again. I want to bring my dad lunch again. Hell, I even want homework.
All I want is to go back to my boring, irritating life. A life I always took for granted, never even entertaining the thought of it being stolen from me. Now that I know, though, there's nothing I can even do. Except win.
But as I said before, I'm not the luckiest nail in the pack.
"You have one of the biggest and strongest alliances, Mr. Artelle," says Aeliana. Forcing away the tears, I look at the TV to see the rest of the interview. "They're going to do you well, obviously, but what about afterwards? Who do you think will win in an all-out fight between your allies? Or better yet, who do you think will be the first to betray?"
The camera closes in on Caio's nervous face as he answers. "Um, I-I don't think... I mean, I wouldn't... I wouldn't betray, but I'd..." He shakes his head, his fists clenching and unclenching on his lap. "...I don't know how to answer that question..."
"Conflicted?" The interviewer laughs, and the Capitol audience laughs along with her. "You seem to be conflicted with a lot of things, Caio. I do hope you're alright."
This bitch. Already trying to stir up unneeded drama between allies. I stare at Caio as he walks offstage and back down into the waiting room. Breno raises a brow at the boy from Four, but neither of them say a word to the other as Caio walks away into an elevator.
"What a bum," I mumble, talking about Aeliana and her fake little smile.
Breno looks down at me and offers a reassuring smile. "I know, but Vita told us to prepare for something like this. It'll be fine."
"Vita told you to prepare for this. I don't even think she looked at me today."
My District Partner doesn't respond, and honestly I'm glad he doesn't. It's awkward, talking to him without being allies, knowing that the other has to die for one of us to go back to Six. He understands what Vita is doing just as much as I understand. Why waste attention on the little girl who probably won't even last thirty seconds?
I hate it. But there's nothing I can do about it.
Or rather, there is, but screaming at my Escort is a bit too bold for someone like me.
I look back up to the TV, just in time to see Aeliana Devrine smile at Alexandra Fearn of District Five. "So I think the audience would really like to know the details of you volunteering. Why did you do it, and why did those Peacekeepers seem so intent on not letting you do it?"
Alexandra, adorned in a bold black dress, slowly shakes her head. "There are three types of people in District Five, I believe. The people who let things happen to them without any form of resistance. The people who take their chances at an opportunity for survival, no matter the danger. And then the bumbling idiots who feel as if they own the world just because they have a little authority."
Aeliana blinks. "And…?"
"I'm the second type of person. That Peacekeeper is the third."
Alexandra's interview goes off without a hitch, and the Capitol cheers for their little volunteer. Another girl I can't help but resent, even though Michael told me that she's a good person when you get to know her. Thing is, I won't be getting to know her. Tomorrow, we'll be nothing less than enemies, hell-bent on killing each other.
What a cheery person you are, I tell myself. And then, I realize that Michael is next. My ally. My friend.
"Good luck," I whisper, just as the Capitol man ushers my ally forward. He doesn't even look back at me, much less say anything. Now that I think about it, my ally hasn't said a word to me this entire night. Is he alright?
My suspicions are proved correct when he walks onstage and doesn't even smile. Michael always smiles—even when there's absolutely nothing to be smiling about. When he approached me right before the Chariot Rides, I didn't know what to think. I'm paranoid by heart, but he just seemed like such an innocent person. He seemed like someone who knew no wrong, much less someone who could do wrong.
Now, though, as he sits in the couch and stares straight into the camera, I don't see the Michael from before. I don't see a boy that befriended the quiet, snarky girl despite the circumstances. I see a boy who finally realizes what a horrible world he lives in, and how there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.
"Well, Mr. Riverbee," Aeliana begins, signature grin matching her perky tone. "You don't seem very happy. Is something the matter?"
"I..." It's like the soul has been sucked out of my friend. He struggles to answer for a bit, but then he just gives up and shakes his head.
"I guess you're feeling too many emotions, and you just don't know how to deal with them." Aeliana sounds so sure of herself. So very, very smug—like seeing a thirteen-year-old boy so depressed is something to be proud of. "The Games are tomorrow. I bet you're as excited as we are!"
"N-No..."
"What's that?"
Michael looks up at Aeliana, tears brimming. I can't do anything except gape as the cheerful boy who wouldn't stop talking to me, laughing with me, is reduced to nothing but silent tears. What could've happened to him? How can anything take away Michael's shine? I may not have acted it, but I did appreciate his positive nature. What happened to that?
"Why is this happening..?" He practically whimpers, wiping the tears away with his sleeve. The crowd is dead silent as he continues. "Why am I going to die tomorrow? I didn't... I didn't even do anything..!"
There's a pause. But then, Aeliana seems to smirk. "Honey, I think that's something you need to figure out yourself. If you don't want to die tomorrow, well, fight!"
"But... But I can't..."
"Then I wish you the best of luck, Michael Riverbee."
The rest of the Interview is composed of Michael crying and Aeliana asking pointless questions that my ally hardly even tries to answer. In the end, a few people clap for Michael, but it's nothing compared to the tributes before him. I'd be surprised if a single person in the crowd even has the thought of sponsoring him after this. And if my once-exuberant ally can't even get any sponsors, what does that mean about me?
The both of us—dead.
And it's Aeliana's fault, the Capitol's fault, Panem's fault for being such a stupid place. I hate Panem. I hate how the rebels just had to start a war and lose. I hate how the Capitol just had to find the worst possible punishment available. I hate how Vita just had to choose my name out of literally thousands upon thousands of others. I hate how Michael just had to befriend me, force me to grow attached to him, and then realize just what a shitty place this is right when I need him the most.
I hate how scared I am, of both going onstage and going into the Arena. I thought that the other tributes would ignore me because of my lack of presence—but now, I think I was wrong. Won't they just target me even more now because they know how easy it'd be to take me out?
"Up next is Michael's adorable ally, Ceres Cantrell from District Six!"
Beside me, Michael is being chewed out by a rather chubby man. "That was just pathetic," says the man, staring down disapprovingly at him. "I thought Alexandra was going to be bad, but it turns out you were the one that was going to disappoint me." Michael can't do or say anything to the massive scolding. All he does is cry, wiping his eyes over and over again.
So stupid. With a fire in my chest, I ignore them and walk up the stairs. Earlier, I thought I'd be nervous. That's the correct emotion to feel when you're about to make a fool out of yourself in front of millions of people, right? Well, I think I've proved to a lot of people that I'm not a normal thirteen-year-old girl.
I'm awkward. Sarcastic. Tomboyish. Paranoid. Maybe even a bit cynical.
But I'm not normal. And as I step out of the shadows and into the spotlight, I realize a normal person wouldn't be able to stand something like this. My vision is blinded by the flashing lights, but I continue walking. The screams and cheers of the Capitol audience is enough to make me deaf and disoriented, but all I do is take a deep breath and continue walking.
I won't let them make a fool out of me.
Finally, I make it to my seat. I sit down in the plush couch, ignoring Aeliana's helping hand. And then I wait for the crowd to shut up.
When they finally do stop screeching, I open my own mouth to talk. "This is stupid."
The silence takes on a new, different tone. It's an awkward silence, because nobody knows what to do or say. Did this thirteen-year-old brat just call our wonderful ceremony stupid? Was she being funny or just plain rebellious? This is what I presume the audience is thinking.
And Aeliana, with her yellow hair and blinding white teeth, just smiles. "Well then, you're a feisty one! Different from your ally, aren't you?"
"You could say that." I struggle to maintain eye contact with the Capitol lady, but I want her to know just how much I hate her existence. I want her to know that how she treated Michael, my friend, was just plain wrong. "And you're stupid, too. Don't you think we all know that you're some bald freak who can't afford a better wig?"
On the outside, I must look calm and controlled and even feisty. But on the inside, I feel like I'm about to melt into nothingness. This isn't me. I'm not supposed to be saying these things. I never, ever let my true feelings show. My sarcastic demon is in my head, not anywhere for people to hear. I'm shy, and I should definitely be stuttering out answers to her pointless questions.
But right now, it's like the rage I'm feeling has manifested into something new. A new Ceres. A Ceres that will finally say what she's thinking, no matter the consequences. And yes, I know there will be consequences.
But what's a worse consequence than forcing me into an Arena with twenty other people who won't hesitate to kill me?
Maybe this is why I'm changing. Tomorrow is the Games. The dread and anger and terror I'm feeling can't just be contained, or I'll probably explode. If I don't let the world know how I feel now, I'll probably never be able to.
"That's not a nice thing to say..." Aeliana's still smiling, but the look in her eyes is almost ferocious. "Let's not call each other mean words, okay? I think you're a very beautiful girl, Ceres, and beautiful girls such as ourselves shouldn't resort to useless name-calling."
"Stop it with the patronizing bullshit!" I yell, and the members of the audience gasps. How can such a young girl have such a dirty mouth? they're probably thinking. "Stop treating me like you're so much better! B-Because you Capitol people... You people have twisted minds if you actually think you're better than us just because you were born in a city while we were born in a district!"
"Ceres, dear, where is this anger coming from?"
"You don't think I should be angry? Well I'm angry. I think we're all angry." I make a gesture towards the waiting room. I can only imagine the look on Michael and Breno's face as they watch this. "You people are forcing us to fight to the death. Our lives... Our lives aren't a game! This is sick and tortuous and we all hate you because of it!"
The audience is in complete shock. From where I'm sitting, I can see a Capitol lady with a completely white face, her mouth open in astonishment. I chuckle; these people don't hear what I'm saying. They're shocked that I'm actually letting out my feelings rather than bottling them, not because they're understanding what horrible people they are.
Well I've had enough of bottling up my feelings. I do that every single day, and I'm sick of it. If I'm going to die tomorrow, I'd rather die being myself rather than another puppet.
"...Please, honey, just sit down and calm yourself." She sounds so condescending. I hate it. It makes me want to punch her in her face. "The Hunger Games were instilled because it's a punishment. Even if you had nothing to do with the rebellion—"
"Even if I had nothing to do with the rebellion, which I didn't, you're still going to toss me to my death tomorrow because you don't care. None of you care. You're all just sick, demented human-beings and I can't even stand looking at you!"
She reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder. "Calm—"
"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" I jump out of my seat, tears in my eyes. The anger is finally subsiding. And with it comes the sadness, the insurmountable sadness that claimed Michael's soul. "Y-You can't dare tell me to calm down, b-because you're not the one who will...who will probably n-never see their family again. You're not the one who will probably never laugh with their friends again."
Aeliana stares at me. For a moment, I think I see compassion or at least a bit of pity. But that moment goes away pretty quickly, because her eyes suddenly hardens and so does her voice. "I think we might have to cut this interview short, Ms. Cantrell."
Really? I thought you were going to ask me for my favorite color.
Ignoring the millions of eyes on me and the cameras broadcasting my every move, I spin around and stomp away. I rush down the stairs, not even caring how I look anymore. I said what I needed to say—and honestly, I don't even know how I feel about it. Relieved that I finally got that out of my chest? Angry that I couldn't tell my parents how much I miss them?
No, I don't feel either of that. I feel hopeless—because no matter what was said tonight, I'm still going into the Hunger Games tomorrow. I'm still going to die. And no matter how much I kick and scream and cry, that will never change.
"Ceres!" Vita gets in my way of the elevator. I hadn't even realized that I dragged my feet over here. I guess it's better that way, though, because I don't think I'd have been able to handle everyone's eyes on me for much longer. "What was that? Do you have any idea of what you just did tonight? Honestly, Mrs. Verbunska was going to spend quite a bit of money on you—and now look what you just went and said! What got into you, young lady?"
I look up at my Escort, curse words and insults dying in my throat. I can't even find the strength to cry anymore.
I look back down, shrugging my shoulders. "Puberty, maybe? I don't know..."
Isabel Abriani, 18;
District Twelve Female.
"Hopefully in a better mood than little Ceres, let's give a round of applause for Breno Harmont!"
I can't help but stare at the elevator, even when the little girl from Six leaves. Yelling at Aeliana took some serious bravery, bravery that someone five years older doesn't even possess. I'm always saying things that I feel other people would like to hear, even when I don't believe it myself—so I can't even begin to imagine screaming about the injustices of the Capitol.
They're wrong. The Hunger Games is wrong. And I know it's wrong.
But they don't know it's wrong—and I'm not going to be the one to tell them it is.
"You okay, Isabel?" Eion asks me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I look him in the eye, and I can't help but feel even worse about myself. "Don't worry, okay? If that lady says anything bad about you, I promise you, she'll regret it."
"It's not that..." Usually, I'd just nod and let him believe that he's protecting me. But... But we're going into the Games tomorrow. If I don't say what's on my mind, I just may end up fainting from the sheer pressure. "That girl from Six, Ceres. She said all those things, knowing that she'll probably be punished because of it. And I... I want to be able to say what I believe in, too...but..."
But you won't. Because you can still see a chance of returning back home, and you don't want to ruin that. And because of your self-preservation, you hate yourself. You hate that Ceres can say all of those things without fear, while you're too afraid to even blink the wrong way.
"...But you're scared the Capitol will punish us for it, or even our families," Eion finishes for me, sighing. "And you're right. We can't say what Ceres said. But that doesn't mean we're bad people, Isabel. We're just...doing what we need to do to survive." He chuckles, though his eyes betray the gesture. "I know, I know. Damn, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but I'm just..."
"You're just being honest," I finish. He nods, managing another reassuring smile, before he looks away from me and back towards the television. Eion is an honest person, almost to a fault, and I can definitely see what he means. In his thought process, Ceres was acting desperately, because he knows that she stands no chance at winning this. But unlike her, we do stand a chance—no matter how small. And yelling at Aeliana and the Capitol would just ruin it.
It makes him sick. It makes me sick. But… But it's what we have to do if we don't want to die controversial deaths in the Arena.
I look back up towards the television, placing thoughts of the poor little girl to the back of my mind. If I sit here and think about her, I'll blank out and end up missing the entire interview. Watching it now, though, I see that I actually did miss most of it.
"You're a very intelligent young man, Breno," Aeliana says, grinning again. "And I wish you the best of luck in the Arena."
As Breno walks off the stage, only one thought flies through my mind. How does Aeliana manage to constantly be the center of attention? The entirety of Panem is judging every single word she says. Just the mere thought is making my stomach churn.
Well, you better get over it. Because in a few minutes, it's you who's going to be judged by every single person in this city. It's you who's going to be judged by every single person in this world.
"Let's give a warm welcome for Calla Mallow, the female tribute from District Seven!"
The crowd cheers as the red-headed girl makes her way onstage, dressed in a beautiful green dress. She just looks so confident in herself. Nervous, of course, but not to the point of crying hysterically. Just by watching her sit down and make friendly greetings with Aeliana, I can tell that she's way better than me. Way better in every way possible.
Always inferior. To Ceres, to Calla—to everyone.
"So, we know that you're in an alliance with the two cuties from Three and your rather dashing District Partner." Aeliana smiles fondly at Calla. I feel like she genuinely likes the girl, which is rare. "Is there anything you'd like for us to know? Anything juicy?"
Calla laughs a little, but it's obvious that the millions of viewers are slowly getting to her. It'll be even worse for me. "Well, Iris is just the sweetest little girl you'll ever meet. And Tet... It's crazy how smart that kid is." She pauses a little, before chuckling some more. "And Daniel, he... He's really...friendly."
The crowd oohs a little at that, while Calla just blushes. Aeliana laughs, and then asks the girl about herself. I noticed that the girl is always saying such great things about other people, like her family and her allies, but I've yet to hear one good thing about Calla Mallow.
"Me? I mean, I'm just...me. Nice, helpful...me."
The girl is awarded with plenty of claps and cheers as she leaves the stage. There's a weird look in her eyes as she nears the elevator, an excited glint, but she simply walks in without so much as a word. She's a girl I won't be able to ever learn a single thing about, merely because we're both going to be forced into a life-or-death competition tomorrow.
It makes me sad—not for myself, but for the others. If I somehow win, against all odds, that means everyone else will be dead. Will I be able to live with myself, knowing I inadvertently killed twenty-three others by just staying alive? I don't think my conscious is good enough to handle something like that.
It's now I realize. These Interviews aren't just for the Capitol to learn about us. They're for the tributes to learn about each other, to make it one-hundred percent harder to raise a hand against each other. It's so that the Victor can live the rest of their days, plagued with the memories of kids who had to perish for them to be alive.
It takes a strong mind to be able to withstand insanity. And I'm not that strong. Not stronger than any of these other kids.
Maybe Nerva was right. Jumping off my plate would save me from going crazy, as well as save the future Victor from having to get their hands even more dirty than it needs to be. Because I don't deserve to win. I don't. I don't...
But I don't want to die.
"Let's give it up for another volunteer! Daniel Church from District Seven!"
The boy walks onstage with the most confident smile I've seen so far. And as he sits down, kissing Aeliana's hand, I realize that this is the person who has what it takes to win this. This is the boy who the Capitol will be proud of, a boy who's strong enough not to not be broken.
Look at you, raising everyone's self-esteem—everyone except yourself, of course.
"My little brother's birthday is in two days," Daniel says, and the Capitol audience goes dead quiet as he continues. "I... I just hope I'll be able to live long enough to celebrate it. I especially want to come back home, so that we'll both be able to celebrate together."
Aeliana leans over and places a hand on his knee. "You really love your brother, don't you?"
"Well... He's the only person I have left."
As Daniel leaves the stage and the audience is practically reeling, I can't help but have my eyes follow him all the way to the elevator. During training, he helped my alliance a bit with the weapons, though he wouldn't really answer why when Eion questioned him. And then I've been seeing him talking a lot with the other tributes, the ones that aren't even in his alliance. Who really is Daniel Church, and what game is he playing?
"Next on our list is the fiery Kaya Vause, all the way from District Eight!"
The girl boards the stage, adorned in a black and red dress, the smile on her face almost looking pained. Even as the audience shouts her name with vigor, Kaya doesn't even wave. It's almost as if she's nervous—not of them, but of herself. The wide look in her eyes and the clenching of her hands just seem to prove my point.
"So, Ms. Vause, that dashing score of 8 is unheard of for a girl of your district!" Aeliana begins, not noticing the rather angry look in Kaya's eyes. "Is it because you're extremely skilled, or is it because you're rather violent? Or both?"
There's a pause as the Capitol audience laughs at Aeliana's little joke. Kaya stares at the crowd in front of her, then back at the interviewer. "Violent?" She says, voice low. "Not necessarily, no. I can be, though."
Despite her rather silent rage, the interview goes by without a hitch. Instead of being nervous of how the Capitol will judge her, it's almost like Kaya didn't give a damn about their opinions. As she goes into the elevator, I find myself wishing I was her. Someone bold, someone confident.
"Next up is Zander Engres, the male tribute of District Eight!"
The boy is dressed in a black suit with a crimson red rose on his chest. He would be charming, if not for his extremely wide eyes and stiff posture. As he sits next to Aeliana, it's like he's trying yet failing to be indifferent. It's good enough, though. When I get up there, I don't even think I'll be able to do that.
"You're choosing to go into this alone, am I right?" Aeliana asks him. Zander just nods. "Why is that? You feel like you're capable enough to beat the odds on your own?"
"I wanted to work with my District Partner, but she turned me down," he says, and it's like his nervous front is peeled right off. It's replaced with an almost manic look. "But that's okay. She'll pay for that."
"...District Eight is rather crazy this year," Eion mumbles as Zander walks offstage. I look over my shoulder at him, and he just smiles. "It's good that we don't have a relationship like that. Can you even imagine us trying to kill each other?"
As soon as the words leave his mouth, his face makes it clear how much he regrets them. Before he can severely apologize, though, I shake my head, forcing a smile. "It's okay," I say, voice breaking at the mere thought of harming Eion—or him harming me. "It's okay..."
"From District Nine, the lovely Toren Ingalls is next!"
The girl walks onstage with a tight smile on her face, occasionally waving when people scream her name. She sits down and manages a small grin when Aeliana compliments her flowing hair, and Toren even compliments the Capitol superstar on her own appearance.
"And how do you think you're going to win, Ms. Ingalls?" Aeliana questions.
Toren thinks about this for a moment. "I might be younger than a lot of the other tributes, but I'm determined to win and independent enough to do it. It'll be hard, of course, but more amazing things have happened before. Right?"
The interview goes off spectacularly—and even though she's three years younger than me, I find myself wanting to be like her. Confident, secure, hopeful for the future. As she walks into the elevator, giving a small smile to the District Ten girl, I realize that she's another girl who can win and even cope with her actions.
Trying is all someone like me will ever be able to do. Trying is something I've been doing for as long as I can remember. Living in Twelve wasn't as hard as many people like to think, at least not for me. My parents were well-off, being apart of the Merchant's Section and all, and honestly I've never had to worry about missing a meal. Of course, that doesn't mean my life was perfect.
I was enrolled into Twelve's most finest school, surrounded by people who were far more superior than me. I always felt like I never fit in, wherever I went, and I would always end up in the shadows of the more popular girls. I had friends—but none of them would ever really talk to me, and the closest we'd get to "hanging out" is me following the clique wherever they went.
I felt unappreciated. Hollow. I think... I think the only reason I'm still here today is because of my parents. They'd be the only ones to really talk with me, ask for my opinion, compliment me. All I really wanted in Twelve was for somebody, anybody to compliment me. Just for one single person to notice me, to be my friend, to appreciate me.
I tried to emulate the other girls, from their look to their walk, but it'd never end up working out. Or it'd work too good and the entire class would end up talking about me—which is something I just couldn't deal with. I still can't deal with that. Having so much attention on little inferior me, the whispering insults and the sarcastic smiles...
My thoughts are broken by Aeliana's laughter and the Capitol's cheers of approval. I look back up to the TV, realizing that Terrance Vallier from District Nine is almost finishing up his interview. He's the boy who allied with the Pack, the boy who somehow got a 7 as his training score. And now that he's onstage, I see he's also a...Capitol supporter.
"The Capitol saved my life when the rebels destroyed it," he says, a confident smile on his face. "I'm forever indebted to the Capitol and their benevolent nature. If the Hunger Games are just a way to show my gratitude, then so be it."
Aeliana chuckles. "Well, Mr. Vallier. I do hope you come back in a week or two. Your patriotism is truly endearing."
And that's it from him. Terrance is probably awarded the biggest applause I've heard, the entire ground shaking as he leaves the stage. As he walks into the elevator, coolly passing by, I realize just what a threat this boy is. I realize that while we're learning about the people we could kill, we're also learning about the people who could kill us.
"From District Ten, let's meet the glorious London Tienna!"
The girl from Ten walks onstage, laughing and grinning and waving like an excited child. I stare in complete awe as she handles the interview perfectly, talking to Aeliana like they're long lost friends. It's almost as if she doesn't realize the entirety of Panem is silently judging her—or maybe she just doesn't care. Whatever it is, I'm...jealous. I want to be like her.
"—and I swear, that guy was so fat. I mean, there aren't a lot of chubby people in Nine, but he was just morbidly obese!" London laughs, and the audience laughs along with her. Isn't this interview taking a bit longer than the others? "So when I whispered to my friends how fat he was, he heard me. Yes, I kid you not—he heard me! I was getting ready to run, but suddenly he burst into tears and ran away instead!"
Aeliana is literally dying of laughter, tears streaking down her face. "Stop! Stop! Please, Ms. Tienna you're just a riot!"
The girl from Ten exits the stage with a standing ovation, the Capitol audience cheering and laughing at the same time. Is it even possible to woo the crowd that well? I was going to try and emulate her style, b-but there's no way I'd be able to do something like that without breaking down in the process.
"Hopefully as funny as his District Partner, let's give a warm welcome to Ricky Laris of District Ten!"
Ricky. When my ally turns around and meets my gaze, I try to smile reassuringly. I want him to do well. Not just because him doing well will mean our alliance sponsors, but because I sincerely want him to do well. I already know I'm going to bomb the interview, but that doesn't mean he has to.
He's such a nice person. When Eion impulsively added him to our group, I honestly didn't know how to respond. But I'm glad he did, because Ricky is the kind of guy you meet once in a lifetime. Gawky, kind... He doesn't deserve to be here. None of us do—but Ricky really doesn't.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell the Capitol?" Aeliana asks, already over London's performance. "You seem sweet, but what is your strategy for winning?"
Ricky shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Um, w-well... I have two amazing friends watching my back...and I'm watching theirs. If we try, I-I think we can do it?"
Amazing. He just called me amazing. I don't know if he was just saying it for the cameras...but he actually called me amazing. He called me his friend, even! That was something I could never, ever get from my acquaintances in Twelve. I always called those girls my friends, but they never genuinely called me theirs.
It makes me happy, and oh-so sad at the same time. Tomorrow, he could die. I could die. It's not fair... It's not fair...
"Coming all the way from District Eleven, let's welcome the mystifying Meeko Brighton!"
The fourteen-year-old girl walks into the stage with a deadpanned, yet sophisticated feel to her. The cheers of the audience seem to do nothing to her state of mind, as she sits down in the plushy couch and doesn't even smile. Yet another girl I wish I could emulate.
Aeliana questions Meeko, but the girl doesn't say a word. She nods and shakes her head just fine, but she just doesn't say anything. It gets to the point that Aeliana actually asks for Meeko to talk, and she just shakes her head. Why isn't she talking? Is she... Is she mute? Or is she so angry with the Capitol that this is her own personal rebellion against them?
Nonetheless, a few people clap and cheer for the girl as she exits—though it's nothing special, and she doesn't even seem to care. As she walks past her District Partner, though, she stops and gives a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder. So she does care. It's just hard to see it.
"Let's meet another one of our wonderful volunteers! Koda Samuels from District Eleven, everyone!"
The little boy is a bucket of nerves, but he actually manages a convincing smile and runs onstage. The crowd is clapping and cheering for little Koda—and while he still looks a bit unrelenting, the audience's approval of him is obviously a confidence booster. He sits in the big couch and grins at Aeliana, who smiles right back.
"Excited for tomorrow?" She asks.
He blinks, a second of fear overtaking his features, but then he just grins again. "Nope! I'm just fine! By the way, Meeko's mute, so that's why she wasn't talking. Nothing personal against you or anything."
So she is mute. Immediately, my heart goes out to the little girl from Eleven. The Capitol has no mercy, none at all. How are they able to justify the slaughter of a fourteen-year-old mute? It's just not right. It's wrong. So, so very wrong.
Koda's interview goes by without any problems, and he leaves the stage with a standing ovation. The relieved look on his face as he goes to the elevator is enough to momentarily calm my own nerves. I'm so happy for him. Come tomorrow, he'll just be another boy trying to survive. But tonight... Tonight, Koda shined.
"We're almost finished, everyone! Give it up for Isabel Abriani of District Twelve!"
"Good luck," Eion whispers, but it all falls on flat ears.
It's my turn. I tried to prepare myself for this moment, but...but I realize now that that was impossible for someone like me. I cried during the Reapings because of my paranoia of being judged, not even because of the fact that I could very well die. How am I supposed to cope with thousands upon thousands of eyes on me? How am I supposed to cope with my face being broadcasted to literally millions and millions of people?
I can't cope. I can't... I can't do this...
The Capitol man ushers me forward—and reluctantly, I walk up the steps, tears in my eyes. I can't. When the bright light hits my face and the roar of the crowd enters my ears, more tears roll down my cheeks. I just can't. When I see my face on the big Capitol screens, eyes wide and terrified, it's like a wave of nausea rolls through my body.
I can't do this..!
Before I even know what's happening, my lunch is coming back up and out of my throat, right onto the stage. Aeliana yelps in shock. The audience members all gasp in astonishment. I look down at the green mess in front of me, my throat burning, and even more tears slide down my face.
My vision blurs.
I didn't want to stand out.
My legs give out from under me.
I just wanted to be normal like everyone else.
I hit the floor hard—and the last thing I see is the disgusted face of a Capitol lady, viewing me as the disgusting, inferior girl from District Twelve.
Author's Note: Words cannot describe the amount of pain and suffering this chapter made me feel. Honestly, this was even worse than the Reapings. Never again am I going to try and give each of the tributes their own little time to shine. It just takes too much time and made this unbearably long and hard to write...
But hey, this is my first SYOT. I learn from my mistakes. :) Hopefully this chapter wasn't unbearable to read. Excuse any mistakes, too; I refuse to proofread and edit this xD
As you can guess, I got really lazy at the end of this chapter. Don't talk about me too much, o-okay? ;-;
So yeah, a few things I need to say. I want to apologize for how long this update took. My procrastination, plus my education, plus the length of this chapter all contributed to it. Also, I honestly don't know when the next update will be. I'll be writing and I should definitely finish the next chapter sooner than this one, but I'll be at my auntie's house for a while and she has no internet meaning no computer meaning no real way to update. I may be able to update at my godmother's house, but I don't know for sure. I'm sorry... ;-;
Also, TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY! JUNE 4TH, BABY! Reviewing would be the best present you could give me. Even if you aren't an active reviewer, it's fine. :) Just a simple line will do wonders~!
What are your thoughts on each of these tributes? Which POV was your favorite and why? Which POV was your least favorite and why?
Your interview with Aeliana Devrine is next. You practiced all day, and you're almost positive that you can captivate the Capitol into sponsoring you. As you're walking onstage, though, you slip and fall flat on your face! What do you do?
Remember, today's my birthday and a review would be a magical present! ^_^
Bai!