Sea of Flames | f. odair

CHAPTER 08 | THE INTERVIEW

She couldn't save everyone. Not Lark. Not the other twenty-three tributes. She was no hero, she had no power to prevent their deaths. Eventually, one of them would be left standing. It would be her. It had to be her, for the sake of her family and for her own mortal sake.

The entire time she had been in the Capitol she had forgotten the promise she had made to herself the morning of the Reaping; to remain strong. She had broken down too many times at night into the silk pillows and she couldn't allow it to happen anymore. She couldn't afford to be weak. There was no point in running from the inevitability of the Games. Tomorrow morning, she would be forced to be one of the slaughtered twenty-three or be the executioner. And she would be damned if she were to be one of the casualties of the Hunger Games.

Someone shoved her. "Cassia, you're on!" Lark pushed her out onto the stage and she stumbled in her heels.

Looking in front of her, she gazed starstruck at the cheering crowd and the lights that momentarily flashed her. Caesar Flickerman was holding out his arm to her and she couldn't help but walk to it like a lifeline until her hand clasped around his. He was calm and steady. Her hand trembled. Somehow, they ended up sitting on a tiny peach colored couch.

"Well, Cassia, what an entrance, what an entrance," he beamed at her with unnaturally white teeth. The crowd fondly laughed. "Not so used to walking in high heels?" Caesar teased.

Something awakened inside of her. She suddenly woke up from her stupor and returned to Caesar and the crowd a vibrant, allusive smile. "More like walking on stilts," her reply brought over-exaggerated laughter.

Caesar grinned, "a beautiful young lady and a funny personality!" He turned to the crowd, "what more could you ask for?" They cheered back at him, and she realized then and there that he was selling her to the crowd. Gulping as she made eye contact with some of the supportive faces in the audience, she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling. She wondered if Finnick had felt like this when he was a tribute too.

"Now," Caesar switched back to her and grew more serious. The short banter was over. "As we all know, you received a record breaking score of one, for your private training session with our lovely Gamemakers. Will that affect your time in the arena? The people want to know."

Cassia looked at Caesar. He was so close, grasping her hand as though he was spilling his deepest secrets to her in confidence. This was her chance at gaining some support from sponsors. She peered out at the crowd once more, her throat constricting with a strong emotion as she answered. "No, I won't allow it to," she said softly, her voice growing sturdier as she continued, "I know what I'm capable of. I promised my sister and father that I would come back to them, and I will. Score of zero or a score of twelve, I made a promise, and I intend to keep it."

She heard some sniffling in the crowd and she couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe they were so foolish to believe her. Was deceiving someone that easy? She did promise her family she would come back to them, but she was never as sure of it's truth as in this moment. She put on a brave face not only to fool others, but to fool herself.

Caesar gave her a sad smile, "I hope you do, I hope you do," standing up with Cassia, he announced her name one last time and she was directed off the stage. She was escorted down a hallway and to a private room. Finnick, Gia, Rena, and Lark's stylist were there watching the interviews. Lark was walking on stage just as she reached Finnick.

"Well?" She breathed. The air was cooler and easier to breathe in the room.

Finnick smiled down at her. "You did good. Really good."

She nodded, slumping back against the wall near the door. "I hate high-heels."

Finnick chuckled, rolling his eyes at her. "Don't worry, you won't have to wear them tomorrow."

His comment sent a pang of dread through her. She knew he didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it as her eyes drifted off. She had no clue as to what environment she would be walking into tomorrow. She knew it wouldn't be snow. They did snow one year and everyone froze to death. It wasn't very exciting.

A warm hand cupped her cheek and lifted her face up. She blinked at Finnick, ignoring the concern he wore plainly; the way his forehead creased and his mouth was turned into a meek frown. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

She shrugged. "You're safe, you don't have to worry about the Games anymore the way someone like me has to. You've won yours, while I could die tomorrow, or the day after that."

"Don't think like that." Finnick seemed to want to say more, but he bit his cheek and dropped his hand from her face, taking a step back. "We'll talk later," was all he said as he turned to watch the few remaining minutes of Lark's interview.

Cassia watched Lark nervously laugh at Casear's joke about gingers, poking fun at his own artificial peach colored hair. The crowd laughed at the two of them. Cassia didn't care much about his interview, or any of the interviews for that matter. She didn't want to know about the fake personalities they came up with for the viewers of Panem. All she cared about was going home. But Finnick, being the clever Mentor he was, made her watch it, to know her competition.

As Lark firmly shook Casear's hand and exited the stage, Cassia squinted at how confidently he walked offstage. Something felt off. It felt wrong, no, he felt wrong. She clenched her hands at her sides.

When Lark entered the room, Cassia watched as he strode over to Gia, who smiled at him proudly. She couldn't hear what Gia was saying to him. She didn't trust Lark or Gia, but she couldn't figure out, besides the obvious, what other factors could play into her distrust.

If she was playing her own game with the Careers, what was to say Lark wasn't playing his own?

A/N: it's getting a little ... tense, up in here. am i right? am i wrong? do you think cassia is wrong about lark? should she trust him? what do you think about her and griffin? do you trust him? lots of questions to think about.

(gif is of who i picture to be griffin but you can see him as anyone you want !).

omg also, i literally just can't believe this story has gotten to 5k!!! like, what ? that's literally crazy. thank you for all your support on this story, i love every single one of my readers.

question: how would you guys feel about a sci-fi/werewolf story? i'm thinking of making it a teen wolf au, but lmk!! it would be really helpful :)

fun fact about this fic: i'm basing it off of annie's games, since the 70th games were hers, i felt it only fair to pay homage to our girl annie cresta. there's already some hints about what is going to happen in the arena in the story, so comment down below what you think they are! i'm interested to see what you guys will think is gonna happen in these games since i've never written a games for my own character that isn't from the trilogy.

this authors note has gotten really long so i'm gonna end it there, but please answer those questions if you can! it would mean a lot to me. happy reading!! xx