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THE NEXT MORNING BROUGHT A FRESH wave of anticipation. The Capitol buzzed with excitement as the tributes prepared for their interviews—a spectacle meant to charm sponsors and entertain the masses. Ares stood in his assigned dressing room, the Capitol's stylists fluttering around him, adjusting his suit and fussing over his appearance. He stared at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the boy in the finely tailored clothes and perfectly styled hair. It felt like wearing a mask, one that didn't quite fit.
"You look perfect, darling," one of the stylists cooed as she patted his shoulder. Ares forced a smile, not feeling like giving an actual answer. It was true. He looked good in this suit, but it was all about surviving.
He glanced at the clock. It was almost time. His stomach twisted with nerves, but he didn't have the luxury of showing it. The interviews were critical, just as important as the training scores. Sponsors could make the difference between life and death in the arena, and Ares knew he needed to impress. Not just with strength, but with charm.
As he stepped into the hallway leading to the main stage, he caught sight of Katniss. She was standing near her prep team, dressed in a sleek red gown that clung to her frame, with her hair braided and pinned back in an intricate style. She looked fierce, like someone who was ready to take on the world. Ares felt a pang of something—admiration, maybe—but quickly pushed it aside. She was strong, and he respected that. But they were all walking into the same deadly arena soon, and emotions could get in the way.
Still, his gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary.
Katniss glanced up, catching his eye. She gave him a tight, almost imperceptible nod. It wasn't much, but it was a gesture of acknowledgment, maybe even solidarity. Ares returned the nod, trying to ignore the strange feeling creeping into his chest.
Just then, Effie, walked towards him, basically bouncing with her usual over-the-top enthusiasm. "You look stunning!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "The Capitol is going to love you!"
Ares gave her a half-hearted smile. "Thanks, Effie."
She didn't seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm, already moving to adjust a stray thread on his sleeve. "Now remember, Ares, you've got to be charming tonight. Make them like you. Make them remember you. You did well with your score, but the interview is where you can really win them over. Be confident, be—"
"I got it, Effie," Ares interrupted gently, taking a deep breath. "I'll do my best." The boy replied, forcing a smile.
Effie beamed at him, clearly pleased. "Good boy! Now, it's almost time. You're going on right after Katniss, so be ready!"
He gave Effie a nod, then watched as she walked towards Katniss. Alone again, he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. This was just another part of the Games. He could handle it.
Ares didn't want to play into the Capitol's narrative, but he knew he had no choice. This was about survival, and if telling a sob story or flashing a charming smile would help, then so be it.
