86th Tribute Interviews

Mona allowed a small smile to creep across her face, lips pursed and head canted away from the audience. She knew this was just another performance; an opportunity to make an impression upon those who could help her later on. Still she couldn't help but feel ridiculous all dolled up and placed center stage once again, made to answer prying questions whose answers were nobody's business but hers. But she'd play along. For now.

"I was terribly nervous," she confessed, leaning in to the dramatics she'd been told to play up. Get their hearts pumping! They want a good show. "I'd never seen that many people before and to know all their eyes were on me..." She trailed off and visibly shuddered before finishing. Mona spent years in the spotlight, but the shadows were hers now. Weren't they? Would they protect her still with so many watching? "But my outfit was spectacular. The stylists did such a good job, didn't they?" 

It was pride that swelled in her chest now. That flashing eleven across the screen back in her room had been unexpected to say the least, but the confidence the Game Makers had in her private session had emboldened Mona tenfold. She'd come to the Capitol fully expecting to be thrown to the wolves, hung out to dry, and left for dead. What she hadn't expected was to be rewarded for showing her raw talents—talents only Jamie had ever told her were worth something. But it had probably placed a target on her back now, leaving the other tributes no choice but to see her as a threat. That didn't give her any confidence at all. Instead it churned inside her until her stomach was filled with knots.

"I'm not sure," she couldn't hide her uneasiness. Deception was never her forte. She discovered secrets, didn't keep them. "I'm grateful for the recognition, but if I'm being honest—" she shifted uncomfortably and took in a sharp breath before continuing, "I'm afraid of what it'll mean in the arena."

"I've kept to myself mostly," she offered. Mona hadn't really mingled save for the three girls she'd approached herself. They each were useful in their own right. That was the most important thing to do here, wasn't it? Forge alliances to ensure a greater chance of survival? She'd done that, but she wasn't here to make friends. "I have no idea what any of them are like." Maybe that had been a mistake. Know your enemy. Jamie had said that at one point, hadn't he? Shit.

"The extravagance." She didn't say it like she was impressed. It was with mild contempt, a small grudge against those with privilege who know nothing of the struggle to survive. Mona was no stranger to its horrors and scars. She had plenty of them across her skin. The people here all want for nothing, yet desire everything. "I've never seen so many beautiful things in one place."

"I work, yes," she said uncomfortably, but knew she didn't have to go into specifics. What she did was her business. Hers and the Ravens. The world didn't need to know how many secrets she'd collected or how much blood was on her hands already. "I'm not really one for hobbies though."

She'd been dreading this question since she'd watched the first interview backstage. They asked it every year, every tribute. Some had a sad sob story about the love of their life that they left back home. Some proclaimed above all that nonsense. Some were just too young to understand. Mona was none of the above. Did she even love anyone? There were plenty of men who had given her attention at the Den, made her offers in exchange for just one night with her. She never said yes. She had always thought that was meant for someone special, someone worthy of not just her body but her heart as well. 

Mona thought of Jamie and the look on his face when they were forced to say goodbye. She thought of the way she'd wanted to reach up and touch the side of his face so badly, but hadn't. She'd balled up her fist and willed it to stay at her side. If she had touched him, he would have flinched and it would have broken her heart. He would never be able to give her anything more than what he already had. Her freedom was hers because of him and for that she would be eternally grateful. She may even love him for it, but it hardly mattered now. 

"No," she said softly. "There's no one."

"My mother died when I was very young," her voice cracked a little. She had no family to speak of, not really. The Ravens were a crew, pulled together by a leader. They were lost souls, orphans, gutter rats. It was practically a requirement. Mona fit the bill long before she'd ever had their brand tattooed on her wrist. "I never new my father either, so family?" She did think of Jester and Charmer and Wayward. She thought of early morning bickering and late night drinking. It made her smile without even realizing. "I'm not sure I really have one."

"Is living not enough?" The question made her agitated. Like she had to have some sort of profound answer that made her seem sympathetic and wholesome. Her reasons were complicated, but mostly Mona just wanted her freedom back. Being reaped had ripped it from her and after spending so many years fighting for it, there was no way she was going to give it up that easily. "I just want to get back to my life." 

"See you soon."