A Game of Chance [THG Fanfic]

Interview Preparations

The afternoon approaches rapidly, and I find myself becoming more and more curious, wondering what my decided 'angle' will be. The people who decide are professionals, specially trained for this purpose. I feel a bit sorry for them really; they never get any form of glory in the games.

I have to go back to my Quarters to meet them at precisely one o'clock. It amuses me that I can just walk out of the training centre without a guard, as they are all focused on Hunter. More's the luck to me. They obviously got the wrong person. I smirk slightly at the thought, then regain my indifferent composure.

I reach the door. Standing in front of my 'house', I just look blankly at the door for a moment or two. What if my style is wrong?

When I finally pull the confidence to open it, I can see another fluffy puffball, exactly like my prep team, standing inside, facing away from me. There is one difference - This puffball looks a terrible, garnish shade of mustard. Mentally I groan as he turns to face me. His skin is completely red, with pink tattoos lacing their way up his bare arms and face. One couldn't have come up with a better nightmare for a young child.

He tweets his greetings to me in an annoying, frilly Capitol accent, ushering me to my living room as he does so. As we sit down on a plush settee, he fixes an intense stare on me, making me feel distinctly uncomfortable. After contemplating for a moment, he nods his head, looking pleased with himself. I figure that he has probably figured out an angle. To be honest, I don't have any idea of what I should be aiming at.

As he surveys me, I feel self conscious, an emotion that I do not frequently feel. Rising up from the couch, he starts to pace and explain his ideas to me. As he does so, I nod along approvingly to them. He has the right idea.

When he is finished instructing me, he leaves. A new stylist- of whom I haven't seen before- takes her place uninvited. I raise an eyebrow as she looks at me without much guilt, and introduces herself as 'Cess'. She also tells me that it is short for 'Princess', but she is not allowed to use that name as it is a reminder of before the first rebellion. I choke back my laughter, struggling to contain myself. If I laugh, I will look like s hypocrite. My family has always loved those names... excepting me, of course.

She brings out my outfit, and I grin at her for the first time. It is a black three quarter length sleeve dress, with a ruffled skirt that comes down to just the knees. I also have a pair of flaming red heels, to bring out my hair colour. This outfit will suit my style perfectly.

Soon after I have changed into it and made my way (via the back streets) to the backstage of the interview stage, I swallow nervously. We will soon be finding out our training scores, which will be displayed on the huge television that all the other tributes are gathered around. I make my way over, coming to a halt just beside my allies as the TV flashes on.

The presenter, Yvonne, appears to be the one announcing the results from training. They are out of a hundred. She blabs on in the beginning about something random, but I can't listen, as my brain is whirring too fast. I want to scream at her to get a move on.

Finally, she announces the results, starting at district twelve, and working down to district one. I don't focus on my allies scores- How can I? They pass in a blur, leaving me quite confused.

Finally, my name is up there. Yvonne smiles as she announces my result. 'Diamond Taras - Four!' she says cheerily. I stand, frozen, as the other tributes' eyes turn to me in shock. Embarrassment rises up inside me, as I take in my terrible score.

I failed.