Nothing Personal

District Three Interviews

Klaus was staring off into the distance, Megan noticed with interest as she drifted to the front of the stage for her interview. His eyes didn't seem fixed and he was covered in a thin film of sweat. Vedran gave her a friendly, reassuring grin as she sat down and mouthed "You'll be great; I just know it!" She gave him half a smile back, while her head was turned so the audience couldn't see. She wanted them to think that she didn't care.

That was difficult to keep up when her dress was causing so much trouble. It was a beautiful dress, deep brown with swirling jewels around the torso that shone in the lights and scrunched ruffles right down to her toes, but it was too big. It fitted perfectly, but the from the waist down it puffed out until by the time it reached her toes it was twice as wide as she was. To sit down and feel anywhere near comfortable she had to gather it all to one side. It was also heavier than she expected and the temptation to keep tugging it up on the bust was enormous. She was sure she must be nearly flashing the crowd by now. She put a hand to it to pull it up but Marcello, hovering nervously in the wings, made a frantic gesture and she stopped, folding her hands in her lap instead.

Martina saw that Megan was uncomfortable and assumed her reassuring persona. "Hello there. You look wonderful!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks."

It was true. Even though it was blatantly obvious that she was uncomfortable, the dress still suited her. The chestnut brown shade brought out dark tones in her hair and highlighted her eyes perfectly, or maybe that was just the subtle makeup. Either way, it worked.

As always, all the girls looked beautiful.

"So, Megan, are you excited to be here?" Martina had been told to use the tribute's names whenever she felt it was appropriate as it made them warm up to you quicker. It didn't work here.

"No."

"Are you pleased with your training score?"

"Yes."

Usually, even a tribute as brusque as Megan would have given out some clues right now; if they were confident, scared, or whatever. But Megan wasn't. Martina floundered desperately.

"So, at your reaping..." she started, well aware that this was probably a bad path to be going down, "You said you didn't kill him. What was all that about?"

Megan gazed at her.

"I didn't do it."

"What is 'it'?"

"What they said I did."

Martina pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Clearly, she wasn't planning on repeating the show at her reaping.

"Are you going to tell us what that is?"

"No." Martina really really didn't want to keep going, but the clock was ticking slower than ever and there was still more than two and a half minutes left. The boy, Vedran, was leaning forward in his seat eagerly, waiting for his turn, his expression one of amusement. Martina wished that she could feel amused. The crowd clearly had no idea what to do and were silent, apart from people coughing and sneezing. She was glad she was up on stage; diseases spread quickly in the vast crowds, and although they could always be treated rapidly, medicine was disgusting.

On the other hand, Megan was up on stage.

The silence felt like it should have tumbleweed drifting across the heads of the front row.

Megan stared icily at Martina. The stupid woman was obviously starting to panic, her eyes wide. She'd probably been surgically enhanced or something, because she didn't look any older this year than she had for any of the last five or six years. Her hair probably had extensions in it too. She was everything Megan hated about the Capitol. And now she was sat here in front of it all, in one of their ridiculous dresses. They'd done her up like a doll, and now she didn't want to play.