𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄. ᵀᴴᴳ[1]

6

THE EVE OF THE GAMES. Possibly the most hated day of the entire Hunger Games event. To people like Sage; it was like a slap to the face. The majority of tributes despised the Capitol and being there, but it was their last chance to win over sponsors from among the Capitol citizens. Besides that daunting task; it was the day before the games. It was when everything really felt real, it was like a dream you had when you were sick. Sage could remember a whole week before Katniss was born that he had been incredibly sick; every night he would start burning up. During those nights he'd have the strangest dreams, ones that didn't seem real. Then when he'd open his eyes, he'd still see it in front of him and it wouldn't go away until his mother had a cool rag on his forehead. He wished this was one of those dreams. He wanted nothing more than to wake up...

"Perfect," Marcel said with a huff of air, satisfied as he gave Sage one last look over as the as the trumpets sounded— signaling Ceasar Flickerman's entrance to the stage and the signal for the tributes to finish preparing. "Cinna?" Marcel asked, "Thoughts? You plan on being a lead stylist in a few years, right?"

Cinna nodded as Marcel turned Sage to look in a full length mirror. "It's definitely memorable."

It was as obnoxious as his look for the parade had been. It was a solid black suit, and within it was gold stitching that gave off of the illusion of a burning coal. They had also cut his hair a bit, which would take some getting used to— he hoped that his mother would be pleased that they managed to. It was something he would have protested back home.

"It looks sharp, don't you think?" Marcel asked as he put his hands on Sage's shoulders and gave him a firm pat. "I think I've really out done myself," he added.

Cinna stifled a bit of a snicker.

"Well, I'll be in the crowd, second row." Marcel said as Sage turned back to face him,  "If you get nervous or anything, Haymitch and I will be in the second row." he assured him.

Sage nodded, he was really nervous about the interview— it was just talking, and he would have no trouble with that. He was more anxious about what tomorrow morning brought.

"And I'll be waiting back here for you," Cinna added, "as soon as you're done I'll meet you back here."

Sage gave Cinna a curt nod, and then Marcel before he glanced at the small television where it showed Ceasar interviewing Cirus from One. Sage watched as Cirus smiled at the blue haired interviewer— Cirus was much bigger than Sage. Sage was fairly confident that if it came down to him and Cirus, he'd have a bit of a chance. But then again Cirus had years of training under his belt, Sage didn't. He had hunting as a advantage, and Cirus probably did too.

It wasn't until there was a knock on the door that Sage looked away from the screen. His eyes met Haymitch as soon as he stepped into the small room.