Rise

Chapter One

"Naomi! What are your opinions on your Father's work in this years Hunger Games?"

I keep the pleasant smile on my face as I climb out of the backseat of the black vehicle, accepting Marlin's hand as I do so.

"Naomi, you and Finnick Odair were spotted dancing all night at the Victor's Ball last month. Are you two an item?"

Marlin releases my hand, guiding me towards the entrance to the building in front of us. I ignore the questions being thrown my way.

"Is it true you'll be performing at next years opening ceremonies of the Hunger Games?"

"Can you tell us who are you wearing, Naomi?"

The doors close behind us and I breath a sigh, my shoulder relaxing and smile dropping. Marlin sends me a sympathetic look and walks ahead. I follow him dutifully.

I'm led to a brightly lit room, where I ushered into a chair. A man and woman accost me immediately, both ridiculously dressed and colored. They start messing with my hair and makeup while a third person gives me instructions on the interview.

"We're so glad you agreed to this interview, Ms. Wilder. Caesar has been beside himself all day. The interview will only be about twenty minutes long. Here are the prescribed list of questions and topics you will cover. You'll perform just before the interview starts, as soon as the film is over and the music begins."

I take the list and look over them, cringing at some of the more personal questions. I smile tightly up at the assistant, who beams before rushing from the room.

When my hair and makeup are done, and I've been coerced into a revealing black ensemble, I'm ushered to the side of the stage, where Caesar Flickerman stands in front of a cheering audience.

"Welcome! Welcome, welcome, welcome! I know all of you are very excited about our special guest tonight. She will be joining us in just a few minutes - but before we bring her out on stage, let's watch through some of our favorite moments in her career!"

I cringe as I watch video of a younger me flashing across the screen. I can't stand watching my own performances. I always think them flawed. I look down at my feet and flex my toes in the nude flats I'm wearing.

I look back up when the guitar riffs of my performance song start fading in as the video on the stage fades out. Caesar looks around in fake surprise as the audience murmurs amongst themselves.

I roll my eyes, take a deep breath, and dart out onto the stage, twirling into my position. The audience screams in delight and Caesar fakes total surprise before quickly taking a seat in one of the bright red comfy chairs on stage.

I move through my performance without thinking. It's as easy as breathing to me. The audience delights in my spins and flips, gasping and awing at the proper moments. I ignore the sensation of disgust that creeps inside of me as I recall these people react the same way when they watch innocent children murdering one another. I'm just another source of delicious entertainment.

My dance ends and I'm on the floor, back arched, head bent backwards, legs crossed and one arm extended. The audience screams. Caesar shouts my name. I close my eyes and all I see is my mother's face just before she died. It's all I see every time I dance.

"Naomi Wilder, everyone!" Caesar shouts, pulling me back to the stage.

I gracefully leap to my feet, bringing another round of excited gasps from the crowd and flash them a coy smile, before turning on my feet and greeting Caesar. I kiss him on each cheek and allow him to guide me to one of the red chairs. There's a white button down shirt on the one he gestures for me to sit at and I put it on with a flourish, sending the audience a wink with they groan in disappointment.