Grain & Blood | A Hunger Games collection

Interviews

After an almost sleepless night, I'm finding it hard to be actively awake. At least no one questions where I was at dinner last night.
I slump into a chair at the table. I'm the first one up and going, which makes me wonder how. Still tired, I reach for a bread roll and split it open. The warmth seeps out into my fingers. I guess they've just been baked.
Robin comes wandering in. He's probably as tired as I am, maybe even more so.
Both of us sit and eat breakfast for a while, wondering when the adults will appear. We're being coached today about our interviews, but, to be frank, I'm not quite sure what will take us 8 hours.
I smell the coffee before I see him. Pablo's probably just woken up, gotten himself his coffee and come out here.
Why do people drink it though? If it's for the caffeine, why not consume sugar? If it's for the taste, then something is wrong with you.
"Right," says Pablo, the smell of coffee emanating from his breath, "You're being coached today, both of you, but the question is, together or apart?"
"Together, " Robin and I reply.
"Great. Now that that's sorted, I can tell Aquafina. She'll come and get you at 9."
I roll my eyes and keep eating. The bread roll is soon finished, so I reach for an orange, peel it, and indulge the juicy flesh.
The food here, it's so good and so rich. Everything I alone have eaten over the past four days would add up to a week of food for my entire family back at home.
Aquafina comes bouncing in, bright eyed and alive, which is a shame.
"Come with me, it's time for training!"
I grab a pastry from the pile before following her to a room on our floor.
The next 4 hours are a mental struggle. Learning how to sit, learning how to walk, learning how to talk- I feel like I'm 2 again. Eventually she sends us away for lunch, which I'm grateful for, the pastry lasted about 3 minutes.
After lunch is our session with Pablo. He asks us how we want to portray ourselves, and I answer with,
"Protective older sister and innocent younger brother, isn't it obvious?"
The 4 hours fly by this time, all of it a whirlwind of what to say and how to act. But, all too soon, it's time to get ready for the interviews.
My stylist, Hannibal, is waiting for me. He's got my interview dress laid out, and to be honest, it's not my style. I'm glad it's not pink, yes, but the general idea of a dress is something ghastly in my mind.
Carefully, I slip into it, and the jade green waves of silk slide into position.
I turn to myself in the mirror, slightly nervous to see how I look.
Apparently I look wonderful. Apparently I look like a emerald. But all I can see are the imperfections. I know that no one will notice the fact that a sequin is missing from the right hand side of the waistband, I know no one will notice the slightly longer piece of fabric on the left sleeve, but I do. And it's winding me up, but at least it's the same colour as my eyes.
Unwilling to spend any more time focusing on the downsides, I pull my hair out of the bunches it's currently in and let the light brown waves fall down to just below my shoulders.
"What do you think?" Asks Hannibal.
"I love it," I say flatly, hoping he won't notice the bland tone in my voice.
He doesn't, but it's not like he would anyway.
My prep team comes bustling in. I can't be bothered to learn their names if I'm never going to see them after the games, because I'll be dead.
They do my makeup and my hair, not a very pleasant experience but a liveable one.
Finally I'm finished and ready. A quick glance in the mirror tells me all I need to know. My face isn't too covered in gunk, just a little bit of green on my eyelids, and my hair is plaited and tied with a green ribbon.
I stand outside the interview room, in a line with the other tributes. For some reason, I can't bring myself to listen to them, but I can watch them on replay later.
My name is called and I take a deep breath, prepare to smile, and walk out onto the stage.
With a faux happy smile and a wave, I sit down in the chair next to Lucky Flickerman. He asks me about my family, and I tell him about Clementine. He asks me about Jonen, I give him a limited answer. He asks about Robin, and I give him a heartbroken- sounding answer. Then he moves on to my training score.
"What did you do to get that score?"
"Oh, I just committed a couple of crimes. Murder and arson,"
"Murder?"
"Not real murder. Just the murder of some dummies with throwing knives."
"And the arson?"
"Well. The arson was real,"
He swiftly moves on and asks me more about myself, and I try to answer as honestly as possible without giving away too much.
The buzzer signifying the end of my 3 minutes rings.
Flickerman clasps my hand and lifts it in the air.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Iris Sheaf from District 9!"

Just to make it clear, I do not have the same opinion as Iris does about coffee. I love the stuff. And this is also the first time I have given a description of Iris. I guess I just wanted y'all to build your own opinion on her. This chapter took me too long to write, cuz homework. Thanks for reading, pls vote.

-Katherine