Writers' Games - Free Falling {CLOSED}

Cloud Maize's Interview

It really doesn't matter to me if her surname is Sparkles, it doesn't give this ludicrous stylist an excuse to dress me up to match her personality. It makes me wonder; do - or did - my sisters have treatment like this every day? Or we're they allowed to show natural beauty?

"Keep still," the stylist grunts, tugging at parts of my tuxedo that don't need tweaking. Then again, I'm no perfectionist and I would happily waltz onto the stage in jeans and a black shirt or something. Formal attire isn't my thing.

Then again, what is my thing? Personality wise, my mentor and I discovered etiquette doesn't exist within the shell I've created - nor does anything I can give, show off to the Capitol. All I do is flaunt around, wanting to destroy anything insignificant or provoking.

As he tugs at my collar for the fifth time, he finally gives me a satisfactory smirk. My attitude may do nothing for me in terms of gaining sponsorship, but my appearance could greatly help me out.

Do I even want to go home though? I don't know anymore. Take everyone out, that's all I wanna do. Heartless, but the truth is never a heartwarming story, is it?

As the twenty four of us line up, waiting for Miss Sparkle to drag on; waiting around and listening to the voices of the stereotypical Careers and weaklings with sob stories drone on is excruciatingly painful; if one of them tries to make a speech before they kill me, I'll kill myself, put myself out of this misery I face right now.

After my District partner, Willow the weak waste of oxygen, is done babbling on about world peace and how much she misses her family, she's forced away from the spotlight by Sequin herself. "Now," Sequin smiles. "The heart and sole of Nine has been interviewed; let's take a gander at Nine's other half. Virtuously strong and gallantly courageous, we have Cloud Maize, everyone!"

This comfortable yellow-orange - almost golden - coloured suit I wear shines and shimmers as the light reflects down onto the sequins and sparkles glued onto my attire, leaving the walls dotted in lighter circular shapes; the follow me as I walk to meet Sequin.

"Good evening!" She squeals, forcing me to stare into her - may I say, gorgeous - turquoise eyes; they sparkle under the spotlights the way my suit does. A golden suit for a golden guy. "How are you this evening?"

Egotistical, yet bubbly, naive. I've been informed that she and Talon Sharp are closer to each other than the cannons after the bloodbath, so if I sharpen my tongue and cut her, Talon will sharpen his knife and cut my neck. "I'm very decent," I say, trying not to let the obnoxious side of me rule over. "How are you?"

Immediately, I can tell we're going to be in for a flirtatious time. "Oh, honey," she says, giggling as she breathed in. God, I hate that sound. "I'm absolutely splendid, fabulous!" Part of me thinks she's too posh for his, another part of me imagines her as someone who gets drunk and let's responsibilities fly out of the window...

"Cloud," she smiles. The only truth behind this interview is the glint of content in her eyes. "How are,you liking the Capitol?"

It's a nightmare, it's all I've wanted to destroy for over ten years. My sisters are here and I wanna see them. Why didn't they ever contact us? Why are they still here if they aren't on television anymore?

But I refrain from saying that. "It's amazing. Food at your side whenever you require, a comfortable and safe place to sleep," I babble, seeing the abashed look originally on Sequin's face turn into a calmer, tranquillised one. My mouth could be dripping with liquid Zyklon B right now for all I know; toxic lies. "I feel reposed being in my apartment, exhilarated being in the training grounds."

Cheers spread around, but they're quiet enough for Sequin to continue her questions. "So Cloud," she says; formally addressing me makes me nervous. "What do you miss most back home?"