top eight fam&friends interviews!

K  I  E  R  A  N    E  M  B  E  R  S  T  A  T  T

All he could think about was the last time these reporters were here, sitting in his kitchen, talking about Cedar Halt making top eight during the 85th. Ten years was such a long time to lie dormant, but that's exactly what the memory had been doing all this time: waiting, just below the surface. He'd done practically the entire interview with Emerson on his lap, no more than four or five years old at that point.

Now here he was again, only it was Emerson in the Games.

"Hello everyone! My name is Crescent Caroul, and I am sitting here with the father of the one and only Emerson Emberstatt from District Ten. Thank you for taking the time to talk with us, Mr. Emberstatt. I must say, that name is one that seems to go hand-in-hand with the very fabric of the Games at this point, wouldn't you say?" Kieran raised a questioning eyebrow for clarification. His father, Mace, was obviously a well-known face as the victor of the 59th, and Regalia was basically the favorite auntie in all of Panem, but-

"Maybe. We aren't all related, though. My Dad was raised in a community home growing up. Just happens to be a home that's been around for a while." One that Kieran had gotten lots of funding for back when he was still running the District as mayor. It'd even been on its way to reclassifying as a boarding school by the time he was done, though now he realized he wasn't sure what the status even was.

"But not you, right? Or your children?"

"No. I raised my children here, in this house. I rebuilt it."

"Quite the rags to riches story in the end."

He didn't respond to that, choosing instead to sip from the coffee cup that definitely had something stronger than coffee in it.

"We would love to hear more about your relationship with your son. Were the two of you close while you were raising him up?"

"Yes, of course," he didn't mention the fact that Paige had been unfortunately bedridden the first few years of their son's life, or the fact that it had left Kieran to not just be the primary caregiver but, at times, the only caregiver he had. "My Aunt Reggie calls him my shadow- wherever I went, he was always somewhere close by."

"Obviously on screen we can only see a small portion of who the tributes are. Do you think the version we've seen of Emerson is the same person you've known? If not, what are some differences?"

He couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"No, I don't think I've ever met a person who is more authentically themselves than him. Emerson has always marched to the beat of his own drum, I suppose. Never seemed like being someone else was an option for him." He'd made it all the way to the top eight without killing anyone- a feat only one or two others could claim in this particular Games. Kieran had been thinking about that constantly, about how impossible it must've been to live so long and somehow not be seen as taking the place of someone else who'd been more willing to kill. He knew what was coming, an eventual unavoidable choice in which Emerson would either go from having no blood on his hands to being a murderer, or he would go from still having a pulse to dying in some cheap replica of a District Ten pasture all the way across the country from the people who loved him. Kieran had warned him of this, to an extent, when he visited Emerson in the Justice Building. "Don't be afraid to do what it takes," he'd warned, "No matter what."

The interviewer, Crescent, smiled back at his response about Emerson's authenticity. "Tell us all something about him we don't already know. Any hobbies we haven't gotten to witness? Any phases growing up that led them to being the person we see today?"

"Music," he said, practically before she could finish her question, "He plays the guitar like no one's business, has a wonderful singing voice. He does shows at the coffee shop during weekend brunch hours. Even had himself a little band there for a time! They practiced every day after school for a while, 'til the Missus told them they couldn't practice past sundown in the house anymore."

There was a silence while the room appreciated Kieran's words. Finally, Crescent asked one last question.

"If you could say anything to Emerson right now, what do you think he'd like to hear?"

"Well, I love you and I'm proud of you, Son. You've come so far! Keep doing what needs to be done, and get back home to us soon, you hear? We all miss you every day." He'd never make it out if he kept trying to avenge someone who'd already died. There could only be one victor, and Kieran didn't care how heartless or selfish it was to say: he wanted it to be Emerson. He wanted his son returned to him with a pulse. If that meant every other living soul in that building breathing their last, that was a price Kieran would've been more than willing to pay. But it wasn't up to him anymore, was it? It had to be Emerson's choice to put himself first.

"Thank you, Mr. Emberstatt. Once again for those of you at home, my name is Crescent Caroul, signing off." She smiled into the camera until the red light stopped blinking. Kieran finished his drink.

"You can leave the same way you came in."