The Hunger Games Begin

Interview time...

With dark days in the arena looming ahead of me, I let Selma take my mind off of them by instructing us in etiquette, manners and anything that could make us more appealing to Panem. All this for a three minute interview! Besides this, Harp is constantly giggling about how amazing the interview dress is. This stupid interview is driving me to distraction and after that I have a fight to the death to deal with. Right now, my life is looking pretty crap.

"Here we go Skye," says Harp as she passes me a royal blue strapless dress. A stripe around the middle is made of the same gems which gave me and Emmet the incredible glowing effect. Judging by Harp's thrilled expression, I am looking pretty amazed. This fashion wonder has made my beautiful parade dress seem like grubby dungarees.

"Come on, Skye, try it on. I need to see if it looks alright..." fusses Harp as she presses the dress into my chest and pushes me towards a screen to change behind.

"Harp, you don't need to worry about that, this is the most incredible outfit I've ever seen and you should be proud of it." I tell her. She has really grown on me and I have come to think of her as more of a trustworthy friend rather than the vain fashion diva that she appeared to be when I first met her. Her plump purple lips curl into a smile as I slip behind the screen. Padding catches my eye as I slide the dress off the hanger. Is that really necessary? Probably for my own good, since I doubt many sponsors would put too much faith in a weed like me. I need to show them that I am strong, powerful, prepared and this interview is the only opportunity I will be given.

Harp's agile fingers nip through my hair, pinning it into a twisted bun of blonde braids. To match my blue dress, Harp has dyed streaks of my hair the same shade. Silky blue fabric falls just above my knees and a bucket-full of make-up has completely hidden my face.

"Twirly time!" announces Harp as she withdraws her fingers. The full length mirror reveals to me a dazzling, slim figured, gorgeous girl. This girl, however, is not Skye Marley. She begins to spin, and a shining blue stripe is illuminated around her waist. A suited man enters the room and I give a last squeeze of Harp's hand before I am lead away to a line of tributes. I find my place behind the boy from District 2 and wait patiently for Emmet to arrive. Soundless, in moments he is by my shoulder.He is looking pretty hot in a casual white shirt and straight black trousers, with a black blazer to formalise the look slightly. I notice a ring of the silver gems adorning his cuffs.

"Nervous?" I query, trying to make conversation. Emmet is the trickiest person to talk with, making me wonder how well his interview will go. He may have beaten us all with his training score, but this is the time for the rest of us to level out the playing field.

"I suppose," he replies, any trace of emotion concealed from my gaze. "You look beautiful, by the way." Compliments have never been a regular thing for me, I am not a pretty girl, the fact that Emmet of all the quiet people in the world would tell me I look beautiful astounds me and it is a moment before I am able to utter a muffled "thank you". Slightly embarrassed, I hurry away to talk to Kina and Immi. Kina is engrossed in a strategic conversation with her district partner, but I find Immi alone. She is wearing a floaty pale yellow dress which puffs out on the skirt. A yellow ribbon is woven through her braided hair. Anyone can tell that her stylist has chosen a pretty, little girl look for Immi tonight.

"Hiya." I chirp, lightly tapping her on the shoulder.

"Oh, hey." Immi replies, her braid flying as she twirls around to face me. When she catches sight of me, her pink lips part, the gap between them gradually getting larger until it becomes a full on gape. "You look incredible!" I blush.

"Take a look in the mirror, gorgeous!" I tell her. It is true, Immi looks astounding. For another few minutes, Immi and I argue merrily about who looks best. Feels so relaxing to finally just be myself, not throwing knives, not nervous, not nibbling my nails, just chatting with my friend. A security guard has to remind me to go for my interview, since I don't hear my name being announced.
"And here we have, the dazzling, Skye Marley!" Hollers an artificial looking man with hair like green forks. My lips are cemented into the prettiest smile I can muster and I am eagerly waving at the audience. Be calm; relax, I remind myself, not letting my happy mask slip.
"Now, Skye, let's talk about you. Do you have many relatives to cheer you on from District 3?" Queries the green haired man. Cheering? More like praying.
"Well, I have a little brother named Tommy and my mother. So yeah, they'll be rooting for me back home." I reply. A choking feeling builds up in my throat at the thought of my family, but all the same, I don't let it show. Hide it, I tell myself, no one will sponsor a weeping crybaby.
"Ah. I love your dress, doesn't it look gorgeous?" A synchronised cheer from the audience surges through my eardrums.
"Thank you." I giggle. A buzzer sounds, my cue to leave.
"Thank YOU, Skye. One more round of applause for Skye Marley!!!" Yells the man. Whoops and cheers follow. I skip off stage.

Will that be enough for sponsors???