promise to be dazzling (october’s tribute interview)

o c t o b e r     r h a p s o d y      f r a y

o c t o b e r      r h a p s o d y      f r a y

.  .  .

my real life has only just begun. 

the capitol is everything i ever imagined and more. there is a peacekeeper at each of my elbows, protecting me from the clamouring capitolites, weapons drawn to protect their precious cargo. around us, the buildings reach up to the sky, sparkling, a snapshot from a memory of a time before district one got me with its teeth. i have been returned to a timeline i never got to live out; my feet feel firmly planted on the ground, following the path toward my destiny. 

they show me to my room. i pace circles, wearing down the carpet, unable to sleep. every time i close my eyes the flashing lights are far too close.

when they come for me in the morning, it is still dark outside. i suppose this is part of the dance; long, arduous hours in hair and makeup, ensuring that everything is perfect. it’s so that the stage lights do not bite too hard, do not expose even a trace of imperfection. from this moment forward, it is my job to be absolutely perfect. 

the clothes they give me are lacy, sparkly. they are beautiful, and flattering, and they fit me perfectly. i suspect that they were made just for me, sewn with my particular measurements in mind. i run a finger along the seam. although my clothes back home are nice, there is something rough about even the nicest fabric to be found in the districts. i am glad that i will never have to wear it again, that from this day forth only the softest silks and most delicate chiffon will touch my skin. 

i know nothing, though, until i am led onto the stage. that is when everything finally clicks into place; the hushed silence of the crowd as i step forward, every single eye in the room watching me, just to see what i will do next. this is the very moment i have been waiting for all my life. i package the moment up in a box, tie a bow around it. although i am sure i will face a million more crowds on a million more stages, this one is special, because it is the very beginning. i take a deep breath. 

harlan godfrey is sitting in one of the chairs in the middle of the stage, wearing a red cape. i blow a kiss into the audience, and then turn to greet the man, giving him my brightest smile. he gestures to the seat beside him. i take it gracefully - how special, to have the best seat in the house reserved just for me. the other tributes will be livid, if they find out the special treatment i am getting.

it is only once i am sitting down that i realise the peacekeepers flanking the stage are standing, poised, their weapons pointed at me. a flash of fear grips me, but i push it down. i can’t worry about that right now. i have a job to do, and i mean to do it well. first impressions are everything. 

the interview begins, and i almost manage to forget, i am so focussed on the task at hand. smile, laugh, wave, rinse, repeat. i have been training for this my entire life. 

“i must say, you’ve already become quite the… divisive conversation topic this year, to say the least. do you often find yourself polarising positions among your peers?” 

“i don’t know about polarising!” i giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. if anybody is not a fan, this is news to me. “no, at home, i’m really very well liked. i mean, i don’t want to brag, at all, but i’m nice to everybody, and i suppose people respond well to that.”

“being from district one certainly has its benefits. does your family work in the industry?” 

“truly, i’m so lucky to have grown up in such a wonderful place. you’ve probably heard of my family- the frays? my parents did a lot of work for the capitol, during the rebellion. now, father manages various property and business portfolios, and mother stays at home, and cares for me and my baby sister.”

“now, you made history this year being the first ever tribute who chose this for themselves - a volunteer, if you will. what possessed you to make that decision in the moment?” 

“well, ever since i was a little girl, i dreamed that one day, the whole world would know my name. it was all i ever wanted. at the reaping, i knew that i had to step forward. this was my chance to make it. i knew it would be worth it.” 

“pardon my forwardness, but i wonder: are you willing to do anything it takes to survive?” 

although the answers to the other questions came easily to me, the honest truth spilling out amongst a torrent of sweet smiles and glances at the audience, this one gives me cause to hesitate.

i pause, feeling everyone’s expectant gaze upon me. i am wide-eyed, a deer caught in the headlights. my confident, bubbly demeanour falters for a moment. 

not without effort, i regain my glittering composure. 

“i was born for this. i’d do anything for it, i can tell you that. anything i need to do to ensure i get my crown.” 

“any parting words?” harlan asks. 

i turn to the audience. “keep watching. i’m going to put on the best show.”

i give a little curtsey before i leave, drinking up the last dregs of my moment. the sound of applause carries me all the way off the stage.