A Thousand Years. (A Clato Fan Fiction) {Editing}

Chapter 7 "Interviews" {Edited}

Cato’s PoV

The interviews probably look the easiest out of all the other things we had to go through. Even if you don’t like to speak in front of a large audience, Caesar Flickerman would be so laid back that it would help you. We have to get it perfect though. Our tribute parade and training scores humiliated us enough. Spectra reads out our schedule. First is breakfast, then a shower. After that is our training. First is our posture, and how to walk up to the stage and how you should sit on the couch. It’s too precise and annoying. Next is the way we act, our personalities. It is the key part to the interviews. We have four hours with each our mentors, Brutus for me, and Spectra for the other four hours.

I have a hot shower to relax to tension in my bones. There is a suit, a normal black and white one, laid across the bed for me. I walk out to see Spectra, Brutus, Enobaria and Clove. Clove is wearing a long, plain black dress.

“Okay, we will be working on your posture. Stand up straight and wear these Clove.” Spectra hands Clove a pair of high heels. Clove looks at them in disgust.

“No.” She shakes her head and lets the shoes drop to the floor. “Na-uh.”

“Would you like to humiliate yourself by falling flat on your face on live television?” Spectra smiles devilishly.

“No…” Clove picks them off the ground and slips them on.

 “Now, both of you stand straight.” I do as she says and so does Clove. Spectra observes me first.

“Your shoulders are too far back. You’re trying too hard.” I roll my eyes as she pushes my shoulders.

“Your back needs to be more arched inwards.” God, she is being so pedantic. It’s really absurd how we even have to stand perfectly.

“Now, you two have to stride onto the stage, Clove you should smile to the crowd and Cato smirk. Practice. Ladies first.”

Clove exaggerates a smile and giggles in a fake, girly way as she supposedly makes her way to the stage.

“Perfect!” Spectra shrills.

“Ugh.” Clove sighs. “Your turn.”

I strut across the room with an unctuous smile written across my face.

“Not bad.” She smiles with pride. “Now have a ten minute break then we’ll work on some other things, like how you sit down and etcetera.”

***

Brutus teaches me individually how to be cocky and arrogant, but not too stuck up so The Capitol thinks your pretentious. Enobaria has to teach Clove to be sarcastic but also sweet at the same time, to give an angle of her personality. It’s also quite entertaining to be able to act like this. Even if we do mess up, Caesar always tries to help us somehow. But the questions can be hard and personal.

The next day is all about the stylists. Lumina and Crucis are excited because this is when they can dress us up formally. The outfits they make have to make us look our interview angle, and if you’re really attractive you might end up being one of the favourites. An example of a victor like that is Finnick Odair, who won not long ago. Straight after I am dressed in a black and shiny grey suit, I am sent straight the place where the other tributes are. Only the introduction of Caesar is playing. Clove is there, her arms crossed, staring impatiently at the television above. She’s wearing a coral orange dress, which cover her feet. It is strapless and has ruffles around her chest. Her dark hair cascades down to her waist, with all sorts of braids and designs. She’s stunning.

“You’re all prettied up,” I say.

“So are you.” She doesn’t look at me. Glimmer strides to me.