D12F Madisyn Warden Interview

i've been trapped, hungry and bored for what feels like forever when the door to my plush cell opens. "finally," i hiss at the servant. i make sure every step i take is heavy, stomping down the hallways. they're leading me to my imminent demise and i refuse to go quietly.

but then i'm led onto a production lot, complete with a set and stage. honestly the design is a little tacky and if i'm going to die in the capitol i'd at least like it to look good? but this doesn't feel like that kind of setup. probably they didn't bring me all the way here just to have some very good looking dude shoot me.

there's also a bunch of sour pusses wearing what i ought to be, just staring. i almost stick my tongue out at them when my sleep deprived, starved brain finally fires.

"harlan godfrey," i say by way of answer to his first question. "you're like an actual person." i laugh, tucking a strand of dark hair behind one ear. and then i lean forward, tipping my cleavage, until it's absolutely scandalous. "i'm not so famous as you but my family, the wardens, used to be political way, wayyy back when. i don't even really remember political about what!" a pretty fluttering of eyelashes. "and yes, my dad's a farmer now, mostly seasonal crops -- beans, vegetables, the healthy stuff you gotta eat -- and my mom's a farmer's wife. she makes homemade cheese, which i would kill for right now."

it only takes a second for me to realize what i've said, what i've committed to. i wrap my hands around my knees, pressing breasts to thighs, and hope he doesn't make me pinky promise. "i'm a good daughter of twelve, harlan. i work in the mines, six days a week, and when they offer overtime, twice on sundays."

i can't quite read his expression but it doesn't matter. he is so gorgeous, nothing really matters. not what words come out of my mouth, not my rumbling tummy, not my red raw nose and certainly not the fact that i've been chosen for a survival contest. if i'd had my traditional southern debut, i'd have had an interview just like this one and i'm sure my tits would have looked even better in a corset.

but based on the camera lens reflection, they still look pretty great as is. "it's easy to be confident when you don't have any other choice." my smile is so devilish but something cold unfurls in my belly. i can't quite see it through, so with a small cough i amend, "and it's a family trait."

he doesn't look terribly upset which is a relief. i shift, just a little, so that i can see the audience out of the corner of my eye. they're absolutely no help. but why have an audience at all if they're going to be silent sheep? "anything?" i echo, my thoughts tangling. "i'm not sure what you mean," i demure. the lights and heat of the stage are making me sweat. actually, maybe it's just the proximity to harlan. i fan myself with one hand and sit up a little straighter. i'm not sure where to go with that until very suddenly, i am: "meeting you was definitely on my bucket list but i don't wanna die. just tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it."

i can't decide if i'm impressed that he doesn't take the bait or deeply disappointed. what i definitely am is hungry. parting words? "surely someone in the capitol wants to take a girl from a good family out to a nice steak dinner tonight. right? right??"

i turn to stare beyond the bright lights into the sea of stoic faces, looking for a savior and finding none.