Interviews Part 2

JOTHAM VELASQUEZ (14)

DISTRICT TEN MALE

Jotham didn't like how big the crowd was.

When John had warned him there would be a huge audience for the interviews, he'd expected a turnout of about five hundred or so people, a little more than the crowds for the largest chess and football tournaments within Ten.

What he hadn't expected was for that number to multiply by a hundred.

Fifty thousand was the official attendance figure given, according to John, although he'd overheard some of the stylists and prep team members for the other Districts gushing about how there could be as many as seventy thousand screaming Capitolites out there.

For someone who'd hailed from the quainter parts of Panem like Ten, such a high volume of people terrified him to the core.

The first time he'd heard that huge roar from the Capitolites, he could feel himself quaking in his boots as reality sunk in.

They're gonna be watching me.

Everyone's gonna be watching me.

Jotham halted his thoughts, trying to remind himself that he should be grateful such a large number of people were there to support him. Deep in the back of his mind though, he knew they were probably here for the Careers. Even Evie might've gotten a few more fans out there if John's reports about the Capitolite media spreading news regarding Evie's good performances in training were to be believed.

But Jotham?

Oh, he doubted anyone would really be out there for him. Still, he tried to tell himself to be grateful for the high turnout nonetheless, more so for those who weren't going to use his interview as a convenient bathroom break between Evie and Wisteria's interviews.

As he trudged his way to the backstage area, he could vaguely hear Omega's interview and how she'd been abused all her life by her parents. In spite of the moment, Jotham couldn't help but empathise with her. Having a twisted, wicked family wasn't something unfamiliar to him, although, by her descriptions of her parents, he was certainly grateful he'd never had to deal with anything even remotely close to what she'd been through.

The other tributes who hadn't gone yet, bar Wisteria and Phoenix from Eleven, had already gathered backstage, each nervously glancing ahead at the screens showing the ongoing interview with looks of apprehension and dismay. The confident Careers were already gone, sat comfy in their chairs at the VIP section of the audience alongside the other tributes and members of each District's delegation. Now, all who remained were the meekest of the Outliers, the ones with the lowest odds among the pack, the likely cannon fodder for the Capitolite favourites.

Not that Jotham was planning on falling into such a category, though.

As soon as she saw him, Ceri instantly leapt forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. Jotham gave her outfit a glance over. Ceri wore a white linen shirt with white seam embroidery on the collar, cuffs and along the neckline, closing with a neck loop and silver cufflinks. On top of the shirt was a blue dress that drooped down to her toes, embroidered with patterns depicting a variety of flowers and local symbols from Eight. There was also an apron and a shawl, both having vertical stripes with intersecting horizontal stripes at the bottom to form a check pattern and she donned a blue cape with a silver cape buckle. To top it all off, Ceri had a blue floral hairband and a glistening silver brooch.

Arguably the best dress he'd seen all day.

"You look beautiful," he remarked, gesturing towards her dress.

Ceri's face flushed. "Why thank you, kind sir. It's the first time my stylist hasn't gone completely bonkers with her stupid designs. I quite like this one, for a change."

"Is this something traditionally Eight?" Jotham asked.

Ceri nodded. "It kinda is, but it's not worn by a lot of people, just by certain communities within a few towns, but it's one of our more recognisable traditional outfits. It's called a bunad, probably one of the few dresses you can actually convince me to wear."

"Well, I love it," Jotham told her, which only made Ceri's face go even redder.

She tried to scoff it off. "Eh, well it looks good on me, can't say the same for Levi, he nearly spilt a glass of fucking orange juice on his after fumbling with the buckles for ten freaking minutes, and oh boy, that definitely made the stylist extremely pleased."

Jotham laughed. "Go easy on him, it looks a bit complicated with all those buckles you have on."

Ceri rolled his eyes. "If that lame fucker can't handle a little zipper, how the heck is he gonna handle a sword or a spear? Eh, he isn't my problem anyway, he's been in the toilet for the past couple of minutes or so, probably still trying to adjust his coat."

"Hey there guys."

Jotham whirled around and was, for the second time so far, wrapped in a tight embrace by Laura. A part of him began to wonder if the rest of the tributes were lining up to hug him. The Careers probably were, just that their hugs tended to be a bit more on the lethal side.

Laura wore a long, sleeveless dress that fell to her ankles, wrapping itself tightly around her figure. Her arms were covered in gold rings, each hovering over a patterned wristband. The dress itself was orange in colour, with intricate black stripes of varying thickness and directions embroidered all over it, forming unique, bracket-like symbols across the dress. Instead of the typical shoes or high heels worn by the other girls, her stylist had opted to give her a simple pair of sandals with red, yellow and green stripes on them, with each yellow stripe containing a black star. To complete the look, her hair was covered with a bright orange headscarf.

"Like it?" she asked, flashing Jotham a timid smile. "The patterns are called kente, in Eleven's oldest cultures this pattern symbolises good deeds being rewarded. I think it's really nice, don't you think so?"

Jotham gave her a thumbs-up. "It looks incredible, Laura." From the corner of his eye, he could see Ceri, a pouty frown starting to emerge at the corner of her lips as she stared daggers at Laura, who, to her credit, seemed to disregard Ceri's glare completely, swirling her dress around in blissful ignorance. "You both look really beautiful," he quickly added.

Was Ceri jealous of Laura?

But why would she? It wasn't as though people were going to start comparing both of their dresses, that was usually reserved for two outfits that looked exactly the same, usually the ones from One and Two year after year. Jotham couldn't see why she had to be jealous of Laura, in fact, he couldn't grasp why Ceri had never, in their few days of knowing one another, even spoken directly to Laura, despite Laura's best attempts.

What on earth was going on between them?

"Oh, Ceri," Laura suddenly piped up. "Here, I got you this." She fished out a tiny packet of what Jotham recognised to be gummy bears from her pocket and handed it to Ceri. "Jotham told me you crave this stuff and well, I heard it's good to have a bit of sugar before the interviews so here you go." She placed the packet in Ceri's palm and patted her hand gently, giving Ceri the warmest smile Jotham had ever seen her give anyone.

Ceri stared down at it, her face blank, expressionless.

Please don't react badly, Jotham silently pleaded.

"That's really cool of you, Laura," Jotham told her. "Hey Ceri, mind sharing one?"

"Oh, I- yeah, sure," Ceri blinked, ripping open the packet and handing one red gummy bear to Jotham. Jotham popped it into his mouth, letting the sweet sugariness of the treat overwhelm his parched mouth as he waited for a further reaction from Ceri.

"Thank you," she managed, her voice as barren as the plains of Ten. She regarded Laura with a curious sort of look, then glanced back at the screen, where Kieran was silently giving the crowd a cold stare-down, the corners of his lips twitching rabidly. For some reason, ths seemed to be working well in his favour. There were plenty of excited gasps and curious murmurs to be heard, much to Jotham's surprise.

Perhaps I can pull off the mysterious kid too.

He shook his head at once. No, that simply wasn't his style. It would look way too forced, way too obvious for even the shallowest of Capitol citizens. No one would buy his act, not when Kieran was out there promising something 'really special' for the arena in a soft hush that echoed across the sea of people.

Jotham tipped his vintage cowboy head lower to cover his grave eyes. How would he stand out? John had told him to act natural, but what could that possibly entail?

"Just trust Caesar," John had implored. "Trust me, he will take care of it."

But how could he? Even if he asked some deep and insightful questions, there was no way Jotham's responses could ever live up to that of the other tributes.

Unless it wasn't about the questions…

As Kieran gave a cold, heartless cackle on stage to round up a brief cello performance, the wheels in Jotham's head began to turn.

John told me to trust Caesar, perhaps he has something with him, something that will make the crowd remember me.

After all, Kieran's cello had come out of seemingly nowhere, a prop Caesar had fished out from a stagehand all of a sudden, as though it had been requested for beforehand. Heck, even Kieran had stared at it in shock for a couple of seconds when it'd first materialised.

Maybe Caesar does have something for me.

It was Ceri's turn now, and both Laura and Jotham gave her a hug for good luck, although Laura's was a bit more awkward. The two girls gave each other a curt nod before Ceri sped off for the stage.

"She's jealous of me," Laura pointed out, her eyes fixed on the slowly closing door that Ceri had just walked out of.

"Yeah, I figured," Jotham murmured.

"I think she likes you," Laura said bluntly, rolling her eyes a little.

Jotham gaped at her.

"Whoa there, Laura, this is the Hunger Games, there's no such thing as-"

"She blushes every time you're around, Jotham, it's kind of obvious," Laura told him, prodding his waist.

Really? A crush? Here of all places?

Jotham chewed on his lip. He'd never seen himself as particularly handsome, nor had he ever had a crush on anyone before. The thought never did cross his mind and honestly, he was glad he'd never had to deal with all the romance stuff others always complained about. But if Laura was right, well, his ally in a brutal match to the death was smitten with him. And sure, Ceri was pretty and all, but Jotham wasn't stupid. This was the Hunger Games, not an episode of that old Capitolite show Lovers' Paradise. Any relationship built here was doomed from the start, so why the heck was Ceri even trying?

On the screen, Ceri was up to her usual self, making the usual snide comment here and there, snickering to herself whenever Caesar said something funny, lacing her words with just the right amount of sarcastic undertone.

"You know what, Caesar? I'm so fucking tired of having to deal with stupid shit all my life. Like come on people, give me a break! Ugh, how about this, who here wants to see me sneak some dynamite into the arena and just blast everyone up? It'll be quick, flashy and a fan-fucking-tastic way of giving the world the middle finger!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands wildly into the air.

The crowd roared in approval and even from the screen's audio, Jotham could hear a man yell, "I'll sponsor you some napalm!"

Please don't.

He shuddered at the mere imagination of it. Ceri, wielding a twin pair of heavy-loaded bombs, tearing through the jungle like a rabid feline, screaming the world's most horrible list of profanities as she hurled her flashy projectiles at wailing tributes in a gory, manic episode.

Sounds like hell.

Once Ceri was done, it was Levi's turn. The poor boy had just returned from the bathroom and was immediately ushered to the stage. Jotham tried to give him an encouraging smile, but Levi only returned it with a baffled look.

So much for trying to be nice.

His interview wasn't particularly memorable. Levi spoke in quiet, hushed tones, just as Kieran did, only Levi didn't have the same mystical demeanour about him. Jotham sighed as Levi shifted awkwardly in his chair, murmuring something about his friends back home and a golden chalice in a market. Jotham couldn't really hear him clearly, which was a shame, because it seemed like he did have a somewhat decent story to tell.

Still, at least it eased most of Jotham's worries about Levi being a highly skilled tribute simply masking their true potential. He'd seen plenty of mind games and poker faces throughout his life, particularly in chess tournaments with some of the shiftier folk in Ten, Levi was no mastermind manipulator, that much he could tell.

Caesar, fortunately for Levi, managed to salvage something out of the interview.

"And a strapping young man like you, Levi, surely there must be a boy or a girl back home?" he asked, craning his face closer in eager anticipation for some juicy gossip.

Levi's face instantly reddened. Jotham took a quick glance at Ceri in the crowd and saw that she was heaving a sigh of relief. Laura flashed him a knowing look.

Oh well.

"Actually, there is someone," Levi stammered. The few members of the crowd who'd begun to doze off suddenly straightened, enraptured by this sudden mention of a juicy romantic story they could spin around. "Her name's Riley, she's my friend. Well, I think we're friends, I don't know, maybe we're more, maybe we're less, she kissed me before I left so hey, I suppose I'm looking forward to another kiss from her, you know, assuming I win, of course."

Caesar patted Levi's arm gently. "And I'm sure Riley's back home cheering you on, Levi."

Next up was Laura. "Should I smash something on stage?" she mused before her name was called.

Jotham laughed dryly. "Doubt people will like your originality."

Laura winked. "Hey, I can make it unique. The audience probably forgot all about everyone five minutes after their interview anyway. Capitolites have notoriously short attention spans and even worse memories. Believe me, I would know." Before Jotham could ask her for an elaboration, she whirled away, following the lady down the corridor to the stage.

Despite being at least twenty years younger than Caesar, Laura gave off a far more mature vibe than the enthusiastic entertainer. That wide, almost cartoonish smile that Caesar kept up somehow unnerved Jotham, reminding him vividly of Abi's malevolent cackles when she wasn't in her right mind, sending shivers up his spine.

Yet Laura had no such qualms, maintaining a warm, comforting smile throughout the whole interview, never once faltering even when asked about her past, which Jotham was quite sure hid some terrible secrets. He could see no fear, no hesitation, nothing in her expression. She looked like a prim, proper doll, keeping up a consistent poker face against all odds.

"The Hunger Games are like a complex game of cards. You can never rule out the wildcards, not even when you think you've got the royal flush," Laura pointed out, her gaze swerving knowingly to the audience. She was met with a rousing applause from the audience and as a Peacekeeper led her away from the stage, Jotham didn't miss the way she flinched at the burly soldier's touch, the only blemish in her composed appearance.

Huh, wonder what that's about.

LEVI VERSCACE (15)

DISTRICT EIGHT MALE

Levi didn't like the sickly feeling in his gut.

He sat slumped in his seat in the audience, his mind numb as he idly watched Laura's interview.

"Surely a young girl like you has plenty of dreams!" Caesar implored.

"I don't dream, Caesar," she replied, her voice sickeningly calm. "I simply focus on reality and what's right in front of me."

Gosh, she sounds familiar.

Laura carried the vibe of his friend Quilter, that serious, no-nonsense kid who could single-handedly drag the entire friend group back to earth.

It only worsened the churning in his stomach.

The nerves had gotten the better of him, Calico had suggested, which was putting it lightly. The sheer stress of being thrown up on stage and directly into the national spotlight had curdled something nasty within his belly, sending an icky trail of bile trickling through his throat. His head swirled a little, and he felt so tired, like he was ready to collapse there and then in his seat. The world seemed so airy, so light, so frighteningly fragile that Levi did not dare move a muscle for fear of shattering whatever remaining energy he had left.

He yearned for an escape to the bathroom, but at the same time, he'd already been there several times. To go there again would be freakishly awkward and utterly embarrassing. Surely, at least one camera would pick up on it and his bathroom escapades would be broadcasted all over the Capitolite tabloids.

Not to mention he'd overheard Ceri talking about him earlier on.

'Lame fucker', 'can't handle a little zipper', yeah, he was pretty sure he knew exactly what she thought of him. He glanced to his left, where Ceri sat with her feet up against the (thankfully empty) chair in front of her, her arms relaxed behind her reclined head.

She already thinks you're a loser, what's the point?

Yet, something in his chest didn't want him to be seen as a loser, at least not by his own District partner for goodness sake. She'd already smirked at him throughout that gosh-awful confession about Riley, another trip to the toilet would put him a rung higher on her tier list of total nincompoops.

But his stomach ached, groaned, gurgled horribly, his insides begging for him to just make a break for it.

He could feel the dinner he'd wolfed down that night slowly pummeling its way up and down his systems, threatening to burst forth at both ends.

Ugh, I can handle this, I can handle this.

He was vaguely aware that Totlen was now on stage, meekly sharing stories about his grandmother and how she was a cool and awesome person and whatnot, but Levi was barely paying attention.

Calico turned, her brows furrowing in concern. "Are you okay, Levi?"

Damn it, don't say it out loud!

"Fine," he gasped, pressing hard against his throat to stifle a roar of vomit.

Calico raised an eyebrow, her eyes glassy as ever since the day she came out of her arena, but behind that permanent frown, Levi knew she was genuinely concerned for him. She didn't say anything else though, and simply nodded, returning her focus back to Totlen, who'd been prompted to admit he loved to wear makeup, which drew much fanfare from the fashion-oriented Capitol folk.

Levi kind of wished she'd offered to take him straight to the bathroom herself, but alas, it would've been even more awkward to change his mind.

Ceri gave him a sideways glance. "Bro, you're pale as shit man, go get some help dude." Levi was sure she didn't mean it, but her voice was a little too loud for his liking.

Thanks a lot, Ceri.

Calico prodded him, mouthing, 'Just go.'

Levi didn't need to be told twice.

Shoving aside the last remnants of his dignity, he got up for what could've been the fifth time that evening and made a beeline for the nearest toilet, which thankfully wasn't too far away.

Unfortunately, in true Levi fashion, he had to bump into someone along the way.

He glanced up, rubbing his slightly sore forehead. "Uhm, sorry," he began to murmur. And then he stopped. His jaw dropped.

Damn it, he'd walked straight into Marie and Chaff.

Well, this was awkward.

Levi's legs trembled a little as he bowed in apology to the two scowling (and towering) Victors.

Marie grunted. "Be careful where you're going, kid. You might run into icier people than us if you ain't careful." She bent down and picked up what Levi was pretty sure the Capitolites called an earbud with a hand-painted flower before popping it into her ear. "Great, now you've ruined my train of thought. Well done bitch, you're more annoying than Persey with his stupid puns."

"Don't be too harsh, Marie," Chaff chided her. "Now, anyway, as we were saying, about Marina's plans to build those oil rigs in Four."

"Yeah, yeah, it's cool and smart, but what about her project in the forests? That's bound to garner attention," Marie hissed back.

"Nah, Platrium's taken care of that. And Dawn's letter explained everything, remember?" Chaff told her.

Then the pair noticed that Levi was still there, shuffling his feet as he stared blankly ahead, awkwardly listening in to their conversation.

"Hey! This is private stuff, you know. Shoo!" Marie raised her fingers to ward him off.

Levi bolted straight to the bathroom, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Darn, he'd been caught eavesdropping!

He cursed himself for not getting a freaking move on earlier, losing himself in a whole other train of thoughts and nearly crashing into a pillar which Matt the trainer himself was resting on, which would've been the creme de la creme of Levi's blunders that night.

Mercifully, he slipped into the toilet with few other problems.

The Capitol had placed screens inside each and every cubicle in the toilet, to Levi's annoyance, as if they were paranoid of even missing the tiniest fraction of a segment in the interviews. The speakers here were pretty freaking loud too, the sounds of the crowd and the interview booming through the velvet walls. Totlen had decided to give Caesar an impromptu makeup tutorial using natural dyes and grains, which had hopefully captivated the audience enough for them to forget all about the blundering boy from Eight who'd gone before the Nines.

"Wow, that's really lovely, Totlen! Ha, I think you'd make for a fantastic stylist here in the Capitol!" Caesar proclaimed, giving Totlen a pat on the back.

"Well, let's hope I live long enough for that to happen," Totlen said, his lips just about fluttering into an anxious smile.

Just then, Levi heard a clanging noise behind the toilet seat. He frowned, wondering if there was something wrong with the pipes. That would've been a shocker, given how well-run things usually were here.

The voices, however, suggested otherwise.

Levi was well-aware that toilets were not supposed to communicate.

He slowly got to his feet, quietly backing away from the spectral seat, where tiny, phantomly voices continued to echo like a soft, personal whisper to him.

Was this the ghost of his future self, coming to warn him of his impending doom?

Or perhaps, he allowed himself to momentarily dream, the spirit of Riley or his friends, coming here to encourage him. If so, he realised, snapping back to reality, this was one heck of a place to do it.

Slowly, he leaned closer, trying to block out the noises of the water gushing through the pipes to have a listen to what they had to say.

"You're an Avox, you have better clearance than me to slip through these secret places. Heck, I'm not even supposed to be here!" a young woman's voice echoed.

There was no response for a while, save for some quiet humming and tapping, which Levi swore was of spectral origin. He reeled back slightly, then leaned in again when the young woman began to speak.

"Oh, don't call me 'Dusky', you know I hate it. And no, Dawn isn't allowed to call me that, she just- ah, forget it! Anyway, Ben, just keep finding new recruits and have the stuff sent over to Marina. By Joseph's calculations, she should need at least three more shipments to complete the construction of those new jets. They might not be as fancy as hovercrafts, but they're good in their own ways and should be enough."

Marina?

The Victor from Four?

What on earth was she doing, being brought up by these strange spirits in the underground sewage system?

"Hey, you good in there? You've been there for quite a while," someone called out.

Levi nearly let out a yelp. Thrusting himself backwards, he backed straight into the door, which he jammed open and burst right out of, straight into Woof himself.

Oh, for crying out loud.

"You good, Levi? Calico wanted me to check on you," Woof asked him.

Levi nodded briskly. "Yeah, just had to puke a little bit, that's all."

"Oh, alright, go wash up, I've got some medication from Gwen back there, it should help with the nausea," Woof told him.

"Did I miss anything?" Levia asked, glancing at the screen, where Evie was showing Caesar a tiny polaroid picture. An overhead camera zoomed in on it, revealing a faded photo of Evie cradling a small baby, perhaps her baby sibling?

"Not really, just Evie making a fuss out of some of her past relationships, which the Capitol are really loving, by the way. They just can't get enough of that juicy gossip. Seriously, that girl's love life is even more messed up than some of my novels," Woof said with a shrug.

Levi wrinkled his nose. "Oh," he said absent-mindedly, splashing some cold water on his face.

"That, Caesar, is my daughter," Evie said from the screen.

Levi stumbled, narrowly missing out on whacking his wrist right into the faucet. "Her what now?"

The crowd, even from behind the thick bathroom walls, let out a loud, audible gasp. Levi let out a loud, audible gasp. Evie had a daughter?

Well, she'd just secured herself a spot in the highlight reel, that was for sure.

TAMSIN REID (18)

DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE

Tamsin didn't like Elris's outfit.

She was perfectly fine with hers, after all, she'd gotten to wear a shimmering, sleeveless, light green dress with a thin, fluttery cape wrapped around her shoulders that flowed gently in the light, nighttime breeze. "You look like a fairy!" Elris had exclaimed, beaming in delight at the sight of Tamsin's outfit.

Tamsin could only wish she had a similar reaction when it came to his.

Elris had been given an ugly green suit stuffed deep into a pair of even uglier green trousers that hitched all the way up to his belly button. Throw in the red makeup the stylists had splashed across his face and he looked like one of those green clowns from one of the Capitol's freak shows (she'd admittedly indulged in a bit of television during her nights in the big city).

Nope, this won't do.

"Elris, you are not wearing that out there," she declared, finality booming through her voice.

Elris shrugged. "Hey, it's not that bad. I mean, the swirly buttons are a bit weird but I can live with 'em!"

"Erm, excuse me." Tamsin turned to see Gertrude, one of Elris's prep team members, meekly clamour her way up to them, her trembling hands holding aloft a pointy green hat. "Ivana wants you to wear this too," she stammered out, her eyes darting in Tamsin's direction, wary of how the girl from Twelve practically towered over her like a colossus.

"Tell her that's not happening," Tamsin snapped, swatting the hand out of Gertrude's hands. Gertrude yelped, but she didn't dare to pick the ridiculous thing up. "In fact, tell her that I will be picking Elris's outfit myself, since she clearly is incapable of doing so."

Gertrude blinked, pursing her lips together in timid protest. Tamsin shot her a challenging look and she flinched, trotting backwards to find Ivana.

But there was no need.

Ivana popped her head out of her room, her wrinkly, purplish face staring wide-eyed at the commotion. "What is all this? Why is my dazzling creation on the ground? Gertrude, what have you done, you-"

Tamsin rolled her eyes as she interrupted her. She really was not in the mood for a classic Ivana rant. "Step aside, Ivana. I'm not letting Elris make a fool out of himself by wearing that!" She stuck a thumb in the direction of Elris's outfit.

As if on cue, Coda, the boy from Three shuffled by, scowling at the horrendous combination. "My goodness, that looks disgusting, what the heck's happened to decent fashion these days?"

Elris's head drooped a little as he shuffled into a shadowy corner, curling up against the wall to avoid any further scathing remarks from some of the more outspoken tributes.

"See? That kid thinks it's appalling," Tamsin pointed out.

"That kid has the fashion sense of a rotting cockroach!" Ivana screeched, clutching the fake pearls on her necklace in mock anguish.

"That kid has better fashion sense than you. Now then, if I may, I will be deciding Elris's outfits from here on out," Tamsin declared, marching her way past Ivana into the Makeover Room.

Ivana raised her arms, trying to bar her entry. "You can't do that! I'll call security, I'll call Haymitch!"

"Haymitch hates you, he'll be on our side," Tamsin said flatly. "Besides, I doubt you'd want to call security, especially once they find out what we know, isn't that right, Elris?"

Elris's face brightened as he gave a peppy nod. "Yes! The letters in your desk!"

Ivana baulked. A sadistic smile curled across Tamsin's lips, mischief glimmering in her eyes as she revelled in the horror that slowly crept its way into Ivana's expression.

Checkmate, bitch.

"Th-those are private!" Ivana babbled, voice faltering into a low, strangled cry for mercy.

Tamsin clucked her tongue. Slowly sauntering into the room, she circled her way around the now pale stylist, twirling her cape around nonchalantly. Inside, there was a whole host of shirts, vests, pants and much more fashion apparel that was way more suited for Elris than the abomination he'd been forced to put up with. "Well then? I suggest you step aside, Ivana, unless you want Haymitch to hear about your little secrets." She flashed a sly grin, baring her teeth like they were fangs. Tamsin leaned closer, catching a whiff of her pomegranate-scented perfume. She was just a couple of inches from her ear now. "And of course, you wouldn't want the Peacekeepers to know about your brother and what he's done to Twelve's tributes now, would you?" she whispered.

The stylist whimpered and like the coward she was, promptly backed down, gingerly stepping out of the room, her tail of confidence firmly between her legs.

Tamsin smiled approvingly. "Good. Now come on, Elris, we've got some window shopping to do."

With that, the pair shuffled on, browsing through the stylists' vast collection of fabrics and garments in search of the right fit for Elris. Elris plucked out a navy blue tuxedo that sparkled under a bright light. "Ooh, this one's shiny!"

Tamsin frowned. "Too similar to Alder's suit. Hmm, how about this one?" she asked, holding up a red-and-white chequered top.

Elris shook his head. "I think that's too big for me. Let's try something else!"

After ten whole minutes of scouring, Elris finally pulled out a dark brown vest with matching khaki trousers, topped with a golden pin and a lovely fedora to complete the look. "Looks good, Elris," Tamsin mused. "It has explorer vibes."

Elris grinned broadly, tipping the fedora in a dramatic gesture. "That's the point! Now come on, I wanna watch the other interviews!"

He grabbed Tamsin's hand and with a bolt, dragged her straight backstage. It was there that Tamsin realised just how absurdly early they were. There were few other tributes, save for the Careers and a couple of lonely Outliers. Heck, even the Twos had yet to show up for their grand showcase.

"Damn it, I guess we'll have to wait," Tamsin murmured, suddenly conscious of the glancing looks everyone was shooting her. She raised a protective hand over herself by instinct, trying to draw attention away from her sparkling outfit.

Shoot, this was going to be one heck of a long wait.

Alder shot her a look, his eyes glassy and unfocused as they scanned her costume, then Elris's. He seemed almost entranced by something, as though an invisible force had seized control of his every movement, paralysing him into an empty shell of himself.

Then a loud spark boomed in the distance, perhaps an unruly Capitolite setting off some fireworks and Alder blinked back to attention, a momentary look of fear flickering over his years, then vanishing as he wheeled off to follow Fleur as she paced around the area, tossing a small ball up and down while muttering to herself.

Huh, interesting.

As tributes came and went, Tamsin struggled to pay much attention to the interviews. Sure, she was eager to analyse everyone as much as possible to give Elris- and herself- a fighting chance in the arena, yet she couldn't help but wonder just how many of these tributes were simply putting up hollow facades, giving false glimmers of hope to an audience that would see them for one final time. And how many were giving away only a fraction of their true selves, hiding the bulk of their capabilities until the start of the Games? Alea seemed to be doing so, Tamsin couldn't believe just how ditzy and nutty she looked on stage. And Levi could be another one too, Tamsin wasn't exactly convinced by his whole mumbling, nervous kid schtick. Oh, and Coda? That kid wasn't a pushover, Tamsin was certain.

The interviews really weren't going to give her a lot of useful information about the tributes. Besides, Haymitch was watching too and she knew full well he was going to sit them down tonight and point out the highlights of the whole event, giving her a summarised picture of the interviews and their standings.

Nevertheless, she tried her best to listen to bits and pieces here and there. Jotham talked about his family's dark past and how a murder mystery and a power struggle back home had shaped his future. "I got the news in the morning, and all I could see was blood. Her blood. And the screams, they rang through the streets, and suddenly, a swarm of Peacekeepers pounced into the house and Lachy, well, the last I saw of him was his bloodied leg as they dragged him away," he narrated, making dramatic, animated gestures to reel in the audience's attention. As he talked, he was simultaneously playing chess with Caesar, never once slipping up in spite of having to tell his own captivating tale in the process. Before the timer had run out, he'd managed to capture all of Caesar's pieces and checkmated him while ending off his story with the Reapings. "And the rest, as they say, is history."

"Gonna be hard to beat that," Tamsin bemoaned with a sigh, racking her brain for any particularly dramatic moments of her life that Elris wasn't bound to use for his own interview.

Sadly, there weren't many that would stun the crowd into silence, save for the time she nearly drowned in the Delaware River while out on a date with Ellery.

Wisteria was up next, though her interview was spent mostly in silence as Wisteria glanced around nervously, her arms trembling feverishly as she tapped her foot against the stage, murmuring about how she wanted to go to bed and sleep things off. Eventually, once Caesar managed to calm her down a little, she sat slumped in her chain, a void, absent gaze melted in her eyes.

She could be faking this.

Once Caesar challenged her to an arm wrestle though, a wild look popped up in Wisteria's eyes as she surged forward, clasping her wrist around the stunned announcer's, yanking it straight down into the table. "I win," she bellowed, a vicious smile creeping up her face.

Or maybe she's a bit of a psychopath.

Phoenix was next to be interviewed. "I'm an outcast in my District, Caesar," he explained, his voice sombre as he spoke. "I've done some terrible things in the past." He held up a small clump of ash in his palm.

What the heck is that for?

"But like a phoenix, I've got a second chance at life. And even if it means having to toil through the Hunger Games, I'm not going to mess this up." He closed his palm. Smoke began to seep through his fingers, before he opened his palm again, revealing a bright ember dancing in his fingertips.

"Okay, that was pretty cool," Elris whistled.

Tamsin nodded. "Wonder how I'm gonna top that."

"Tamsin Reid, you're up next."

Tamsin gritted her teeth. "This is it, I guess," she sighed.

Elris patted her encouragingly on the back. "You've got this, Tammy!"

Shelving the panic that rose in her chest, Tamsin forced a brave smile. "Oh, don't worry about me, I've got something planned," she lied. Then, she turned and followed the Capitolite lady up to the stage.

Alright, how do I not mess this up?

She glanced around at the screaming audience, their wide-eyed faces, their puffy cheeks, their glittering smiles. A blonde-haired young woman sat amongst the crowd, her face devoid of any makeup, her simple, casual clothing a mismatch amongst the wacky trends that dotted the scene.

She looks like Ellery.

A man sat beside her, dressed in a strangely plain white shirt, a devilish smile wrapped around his rugged features.

The spitting image of her father in his younger days.

Perhaps this was a sign.

Perhaps this was the universe giving her some final bits of hope and advice.

Perhaps this was just a coincidence.

But as Tamsin sat on her chair, suddenly, she knew exactly what to talk about.

The people she truly loved.

Stories that would tug at the crowd's heartstrings.

Nothing fancy, but at least she would keep it real.

After all, if Haymitch's plan succeeded, Elris would take all the plaudits tonight, more than enough for the both of them.

A/N: A couple or so more chapters to go before the show begins, who do you think will win it all?