The Incoming Storm: The Tale of the 325th Hunger Games

Chapter 38

 Clio knocks on my door when morning comes, "Last big day dear!" she chirps. I force myself out of bed and into the shower, I go out to the dining room and only have time to collect a plate of food when my prep team descends on us. I am whisked back to my room, plate in hand, to be once again prepared. Today is my final interview, I will also be presented with the painting that will be hung in the District 9 Tower in my honor as well as the Capitol Gift that is a special segment to my home in the Victors Village. Everyone's different and custom-made for them, there have been pools, treadmills, art studios, and more. I wonder what mine will be. Quin's is a greenhouse since she took up flower arrangement as her talent.

I have my hair brushed out, curled with a hot iron, and then done up in a corkscrew-shaped ponytail. Azure, Rose, and Flavo dust my skin in whitish-silver makeup that makes me sparkle. They also spend a long time dealing with my stomach, applying what I think is makeup to it. I don't object or say anything though since I just want this all to be over faster. I want to be back home in my own bed with my newly reunited family.

When they are done, Leto arrives with one of her silver-haired avoxes to dress me. I take special note of how Leto treats this avox, with more dignity than any others have in my time here. I wonder if Leto technically owns her, stylists are very prestigious members of Capitol society. I wonder why she treats her so nice, she doesn't get anything out of it, but being kind isn't that hard, and doing that for someone who is now a slave is the least you can do.

I am put into a shimmering black dress with a cut out around my midsection that is filled in with meshwork. This explains the makeup since with that cosmetic enhancement I don't look emaciated from barely eating in the arena, instead, I look like I have well-defined abs. "I assumed you wouldn't want them surgically enhanced," Leto says, noticing me examining my belly. She smiles.

I smile back, "You're right."

Leto checks her communicuff, "It's almost 2, Clio should be coming to retrieve you soon."

As if she was sitting behind the door waiting for her moment, Clio barges in, "Alright Amey, the camera crews are here and they finished setting up the sitting room for the Final Interview, we need to be down there in exactly 2 minutes."

The next thing I know, I am in the sitting room of the District 9 Tower which has been completely rearranged. A pleasant fire burns in the columnar stone fireplace and two fluffy green chairs sit on a purple rug with a crystalline pitcher of water between them. Several large potted plants with big dark leaves fill out the rest of the background. To the side of the whole setup is my painting cloaked in a white sheet.

In one seat sits Otius O'Hall, with his bejeweled face, he smiles at me and shakes my hand. I take my seat across from him and take a nervous sip of my water glass. I put it back down as someone counts back from four. With that, I am live across the screens of Panem for my Victory Interview.

"Hello, Amey, how are you doing today?"

"Good, Otius! How about you?" I say, mustering all my courage to not have a breakdown on national TV.

"Wonderful myself, still in awe at the spectacular games I just witnessed," he says.

I force myself to laugh, "Oh, good, glad I gave a good show!"

"'Good'? It was one of the most exciting I've ever seen! Let's begin with the twist. If I remember correctly you said that you volunteered for these games to bring honor to your family. You thought you had the skills because you were a thresher."

"Correct," I say.

"So, with your skills, you'd say you dominated the field?"

"Oh no," I say, "I could never have done this without my allies from 8 and 3, nor without my sponsors!" It is customary to give thanks to allies and sponsors in your interview and it seemed like this was as good of a point as any to do it.