83rd Tribute Interviews

Name: Tommy O’Kelly Jr.
District: 5
Age: 18

I hate to admit it, but I look good in a suit. The way the fabric seems to accentuate every curve of my body is fascinating, I never seen anything like this before. I look in the mirror and take the image in. My arms look muscular without being bulging masses, my waist looks slender but still masculine, and my legs appear to have a natural taper to them, being proportionate to my body. My butt even looks bigger, and juicier? I didn’t even realize I had an ass like this but DAMN. I turn to look at Dio, who is looking at me with an analyzing gaze.

“Is there any way to get more room in the shoulders? I can’t seem to lift my arms before my head.” I try to raise my arms to show him, and the appearance of me trying to lift my arms appears like a flightless bird trying to take flight.

Dio laughs as he gets up and walks towards me. “You’re not supposed to lift your arms. Suits are made for those who usually have an office or desk job. Most people are sitting at a desk and range of motion is limited to side to side, not up and down.” He explained this in a tone that is somehow both laughing with and at me. He starts adjusting the fabric of my suit, making sure everything sits just right. He walks around me, still tugging and fidgeting with my suit as my nod my head in acknowledgement, wondering what the hell an ‘office job’ is. He comes back around and give me one last appraising look up and down before he nods his head in pride.

“You look good, now make sure that you aren’t a complete asshole, given your distaste for people in general it seems, let alone the Capitol, which I don’t fully blame you for.” Dio tells me, trying to give me an impromptu pep talk. I roll my eyes and chuckle, wondering how the hell he got to know me so well and walk out of the room and into the line with the others. At least I’m just before the halfway point. I would hate to be from 12 in this case. I zone out, thinking about what the Arena would be when it suddenly becomes Penelope’s turn. I listen to her interview in earnest, thinking about she can be so fake, but I guess that’s the name of the game isn’t it? Giving the people of the Capitol what they want? It wasn’t sitting right with me. The crowd is cheering her off as she comes strutting down the stairs off stage. Caesar announces my name. The crowd cheers as I walk on stage smiling with a fake admiration, I would rather be anywhere else.

I take my seat as Caesar and I shake hands, laughing with the audience cheer. He looks at me and asks me his first question.

I must say, your District made quite the splash at the Tribute Parade. Tell us what you were feeling up there! Confident, nervous, excited?

“Yes Caesar, who doesn’t love to be paraded around right before their death?”I say in a light and jubilant tone. The audience laughs with me, and I begin to wonder if it is fake or genuine. “I have to admit the concept was pretty cool, an oil slick is something that we tend to be afraid of in Five, so turning it into a theme of pride felt really good.” I say looking at Caesar, my voice somewhat nostalgic and melancholic. I am genuinely proud of what our stylists pulled off, I am realizing how much I miss home right now though. He nods his head as he processes this information, and responds with a simple “I love it!” in his trademark upbeat tone. He moves on with his next question.

How confident do you feel about the games now that you've seen your Training Score?

”I’m not worried, I’m not a fighter so I’m not surprised that a guy like me got a 4, and that a girl from 1 got an 11. I have my own strategy based on my strengths and I intend to still give you all a good show, in my own way. I get some cheers from that and what sounds like a full hearted laugh from Caesar. ”I’m glad that you are confident it’s important to have faith in yourself, but now that you mentioned your fellow tribute. What do you think about them? Do you find them interesting, intimidating, irritating?” He laughs as he says that word. I laugh along with him, trying to project the appearance of being a lighthearted and approachable guy.

”They seem to be alright, you never know in this situation though, how many ways they plan on killing you in your sleep.” I get laughs out of this, surprisingly. I hope I don’t realize when I die, I always thought I was going to die at home, hopefully in my sleep, or at least when I’m old and wrinkled. Not like this though. Not fighting random strangers in an Arena that isn’t even of this earth. I still remember the space arena last year, and I don’t want that. I laugh forcefully along with the audience, trying to appear that this was a joke all along. ”You’re a funny guy aren’t you Tommy” Caesar says as he playfully slaps my thigh in a friendly manner. Lat thing Tommy, I want to know: What is it that you'll be fighting for in that arena? What is it you want to get back home to?

”My bed would be a good start” I laugh alongside the audience genuinely this time. ”In all honesty I would love to see home again, I miss the oil fields and I miss my family, as annoying as they can be.” I chuckle as I think about them, how even though I hated the situation I was in. The audience and Caesar give an empathetic, yet fake awe to my answer. I'm afraid we're almost out of time. Parting words to the crowd? The tributes? Your friends and family back home?

I look out to the audience, and I see my family, as much as I was tool and pawn in their schemes, I can’t think of anyone else. Is this Stockholm Syndrome I’m experiencing? Aren’t I supposed to be happy? I’m not sure what to say, so a simple ”Thank you all for your time. I hope you have a good Games” suffices for me.