The Hunger Games: Staying True. (Completed)

Chapter Eight; Isn't it Just Hilarious. [Edited]

Above is Emerald's dress for the interview.
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"Are you sure this is okay?"

The dress is magnificent, of course. Black with long sleeves, the front of the dress coming up to my mid-thigh, but the back of it falling all the way to the floor and trailing a bit behind me. The skirt is thick, heavy silk and made of giant ruffles, the body - from my shoulders down to my waist - is made of black lace.

Astrid has straightened my hair and scraped the front back over my head, pinning it so there's nothing at the front and it all falls down my back. My make-up is great too, with shimmering powder spread over my skin so it looks like I'm glowing, blood red lips, full eyebrows and eyelashes, and wicked points for eyeliner.

It's more simple than what I wore to the ball, though this dress is more extravagant. My heels aren't as high, and are much more sturdy.

"This is perfect," Astrid is still straightening the skirts, whizzing around me. "Your fight yesterday has changed everything. I was going to put you in flowers and give you pink blush and braid your hair. Now you're dangerous, you're a threat, and everyone is questioning what the people in charge have said about you. You volunteering now looks brave, ignoring Coin looks defiant. This is the exact dress you need."

"What if I don't live up to the assumptions?"

"Make sure you do." She says simply.

But what if living up to those expectations means that I defy 13? What if it means I spit in Coin's eye and condemn everything and everyone around me? What if my goal tonight isn't to get sponsors, but instead to blame them all for throwing me into the arena?

Would Astrid still want me to speak? Would Birch hiss at me about being a silly little girl? Will my words come back to punish them? Punish Silver, sat at home watching?

But no. Astrid stands by me. I know that. She'll be proud even if I fall flat on my face. Birch... He belongs to Coin, he agrees with her, with this, so I don't give a shit if this comes back to bite him. Regardless, it's unlikely they'll punish him if they know he's on their side.

Silver... Well, I'd want her to say something. If our situation was reversed, and I was the one watching, I'd want her to be furious, even if it meant risking my own safety.

I nod. 

Astrid smiles wide and takes my hand.

The Avox, the same one who did my nails for the ball, smiles at me from the corner. Thatcher is stood next to her, smiling too. I'm guessing they're both trying to be encouraging, but the woman looks like the smile physically hurts. I still haven't managed to ask her name.

Astrid and Birch accompany me in the elevator and into the car, where we make our way over to the studio where the interviews are filmed live. In the lobby, Astrid is ushered directly into the audience hall, whereas Birch gets to come with me backstage. Truthfully, I wish it was the other way around.

There's a half hour wait while everything gets set into order, and Birch and I loiter at the bar in the corner while we wait. I'm surprised 13 has allowed this here, but I guess a chance to see any of us stumbling drunk would be hilarious for the audience.

Caesar Flickerman is not the one doing the interviews. He mysteriously disappeared after the Rebellion ended, no doubt executed on the quiet. Now, there is an older woman who looks like a kindly grandmother instead. She's the one that's been doing all the commentating. She's just as enthusiastic as he was, but she's much more willing to condemn the Capitol.