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"our dark horse, eve flanagan, from district four!" caesar applauds.
'dark horse'? i repeat to myself as i glide out from the panel. is this my new nickname?
"wow!" caesar cries out, beaming to the audience. "my, oh my. you look gorgeous! come, take a seat."
"thank you, thank you." i say, smiling massively as i sit in the seat next to caesar.
caesar leans back in his chair reluctantly. "eve. let's start with this. because we are all wondering it, isn't that right folks?"
the audience goes rabid. they have been since i stepped out, though i only notice when caesar addresses them.
"how did such a slim thing like you achieve such a great score in training? you broke a record!" he exclaims, laughing maniacally as his glistening white teeth display.
the audience, of course follows his hollers of humour, applauding and laughing themselves.
"it's called preparation, caesar." i say, chuckling.
"so. . . let me see. here's a question." caesar says, propping a finger into the air. "are you a fighter, a gatherer, a defender. . ." he pauses, "or a runner."
i've no idea what any of this means.
a fighter, a something, a defender, and a runner.
i imagine i'm talking to tassian.
"runner." i nod firmly.
"and why is that?" caesar prods. "are you quick?"
"very. i seem to run from things rather than face them. more time to think." i say, focusing on the audience, attempting to spot tassian for an urgent release of anxiousness.
i'm talking to him, i'm talking to him.
"that's interesting. is this how you got your twelve?" he asks.
"well, there's only ten minutes." i laugh. caesar begins laughing too, and eventually, the whole auditorium is roaring.
"very good, very good!" he cries in assent. "let me ask one more thing."
"of course." i say, smiling sweetly, my cheeks rosy from all the blush.
the sheer studio lights start to alter my vision.
"at the reaping, you volunteered. is it the same reason why you're prepared for the twelve?" caesar asks.
"what do you mean?" i counter.
is he suggesting i volunteered to win, despite not being a career? it's awfully ambiguous, and i cant imagine ever understanding his implications without a little questioning from myself.
"as in, to win." he confirms.
"no. no of course not." i scoff. i watch as caesar's eyes widen a little, his stage character breaking. his flamboyant attributes are somewhat derived from his real self, but of course, there's no way in hell he acts like this thoroughly. even when the cameras are off.
