Hope and Nightmares - A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Are you sure I can pull this off?"

I stare at myself in the full-length mirror, in awe of my reflection. I already know the answer to this: anyone can pull this off. With the work of the stylists, I don't have a doubt that Flint could pull it off if he and the prep team put their minds to it.

The interview outfit is breathtaking. My hair flows around me in a glossy blond curtain, my makeup has been painstakingly altered to perfection, and the dress. Oh, the dress.

Angeline has created a masterpiece. I am in a shimmery red gown, strapless, that falls to the floor. It's mostly see-through, but the slightest movement in the air sends it glittering in ripples of luminescent red light.

"Absolutely," Hermia assures me as she tries to fix her trademark beehive hairdo. "The dress was made just for you. Fashioned entirely of rubies."

Sure enough, as I examine the dress closer, the sparkling things that I had assumed to be sequins or just plain glitter are miniscule, crystallized rubies - my namesake.

"The crowd will love you!" Apollion says, giving me two air kisses so not to smear my makeup with his green lipstick. "Go get 'em, girl!"

I tap the toe of my burgundy high heel on the floor anxiously. Thankfully, I'm not as freaked out about going on stage as I was about the reaping. Nationally televised interviews I can handle. Killing other kids to survive...we'll see.

I will be the first person to be interviewed. The pressure is on me to not be lost as just the warm-up, and to be truly remembered.

The backstage officials have lined us up by district, the girl going first and the boy proceeding. Even in the dim backstage lighting, my dress glitters like a million tiny red stars.

The outfits the other tributes are sporting this year are certainly impressive. Flint looks less intimidating in a white button down shirt and black bowtie. Priscilla looks stunning as always in a silky orange dress cascading with ruffles. Trexler is sporting a full on tuxedo. Thatcher is looking like a charming middle school boy in a silk collared shirt and formal pants.

Soon, the Capitol officials fix our line one last time, then the anthem booms in our ears, and we're off!

I lead the line of tributes out onto the stage, waving and smiling and occasionally throwing in the seductive wink. As instructed, we make our way up onto the arc of seats where the twenty four of us will sit throughout the taping behind Caesar Flickerman and the empty interviewee chair.

The crowd's cheers die down as Caesar Flickerman talks for a minute and cracks a few jokes to get the crowd warmed up. He sports the same midnight blue suit and hairstyle that he has worn for every taping and show for the past 35 years, but this year his hair, eye makeup, and lips are a fresh mint green.

Then, Caesar stands up and booms, "Give a hand for Ruby from District 1!"

I stand up and make my way down to Caesar, smiling and waving at the roaring crowd. Remember: sexy, witty, charming, friendly, funny, cunning.

"Ruby, you look absolutely BREATHTAKING tonight!" Caesar says enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Caesar," I say. "Look, we're matching!"

Caesar looks down at his twinkling blue suit and laughs, twirling me around, sending ripples of ruby red light dancing across my dress. "We are matching! Did you plan this?"

The crowd laughs at this. If anyone else had made that joke, it would have been incredibly lame. But Caesar is magical - he gets the nervous tributes talking, he laughs at lame jokes, and can make even the least qualified tribute of the bunch seem like the only one worth sponsoring.