𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝 - 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌

four.

Trainings centre, Capitol

Interview Day

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THE NEXT FEW TRAINING DAYS WENT by in a whoosh. One second August stood by Harlow and Bishop's side, at the snare station- he had accepted Bishop joining their alliance after a bit of pushing from Harlow- the next he was sitting in the waiting room, waiting for his individual assesment.

The whole room was in a state of tranquility, but not the nice one. The anxiety was strong, it was as if you could smell it coming from almost everyone, but no one dared to speak of it. August was so close to throwing up his waffles, though he managed to keep it inside.

Whereas the waiting felt as if it took years, the whole showing off your skills was almost sickening fast. August couldn't even comprehend how he swung and threw the axe in front of the game makers one second and the next he was sitting on the couch in the District seven apartment.

The whole assesment thing went by just as fast, as the other training days. And he had no recollection of what exactly happend during those minutes, besides holding an axe. But apparently he didn't mess up too badly, according to the 8 points he got.

But now came the part he absolutely despised to even think about. The interview. First of all he hated the Capitol people, secondly he hated talking to people he didn't know in general, including to Ceaser Flickerman on live TV. He already knew how uncomfortable it was going to be, after seeing the interviews from the past couple years. The questions often got quite personal. And he really didn't feel like talking about personal shit to the Capitol people.

Blight had apparently felt his thoughts, cause he had approached him the day before, as he sat alone on the small window sill, looking over the city. From above, all he was able to see, was a small outside bar by the trainings centre. People tumbling around it, the voices so loud, he could hear the sound they produced, though he couldn't quite understnd the words.

Further back, on a big screen, the odds of the tributes were shown, but he couldn't make out where he was at, all he saw was that the boy from one had the best odds.

When Blight saw him so in thoughts, eyebrows furrowed. He approached him, even though he himself wasn't a big talker. He sat opposite August on the window sill. At first they just sat there, neither of them talked, just staring at the people below.

"Is the interview bad?" August had finally asked, on which Blight had looked up. "Depends on what kinda person you are. But from what I can tell about you, you're gonna hate it."

August sighed, then leaned his head back against the wall. "I thought so."

"I hated it too." Blight admitted, eyes focussing outside on nothing in particular. "Ceaser was pretty lost, because I wouldn't talk." He chuckled almost bitterly and shook his head at the memory. August looked at him, the edge of his lip tucked up. "You reckon, I can go though with that too?"

Blight smiled, shaking his head. "I wouldn't, if I were you. That shit cost me a lot sponsors. Ramona was really mad, said that was my end."

"But you made it." August said. Blight nodded, staring into nothing. "But I made it." Then they stared out of the window again, an almost looming silence taking over.

The sun has just started to set, when they got up, and Blight told him that they were gonna talk in the morning.

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