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･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
Never before had something in the Capital felt quite this small. Especially not outside. People were pooling around them, cameras trying their best to filter through the people and get the mentors in the shot. It hadn't bothered her before, but Odette found herself turning her head away from them, afraid they'd see something she didn't want them to.
This part had always come easy; she was good with people. Knew what they wanted to hear and what they wanted to see. She was just playing a role, something she'd learned to excel at. This time shouldn't be different, but it was.
She wouldn't be talking about a child she only knew by name. Of course, that still saddened her, but this was different. This was Miles. Her family. "I don't think I can do this," she whispered to Cecelia, her hands twisting the fabric of her dress, vanishing between the folds. She knew she had to.
Cecelia turned to her, a warm hand on her arm. She was grounding, Odette knew she wished Odette didn't have to. "You can, Odette," she said softly. The unspoken words were clear; she had to. It was mandatory. "You're good at this, don't let them break you."
Odette turned her head forward again, looking over the people and the cameras and trying to drown out the noise. They hadn't broken her before, they wouldn't now. Cecelia's hand stayed on her arm even when the woman began conversation with someone else.
The sun was warm, Odette found herself sweating and wishing for some shade. Her dress was long and thick, leaving little room for her body to breathe. It couldn't be much longer now before the questions began.
The Capitol liked neatness, but these interviews were always messy. They had to fit twelve districts in less than an hour so they simply dumped a bunch of interviewers and the mentors before the training building. It seemed to be the only place where there were no large screens to follow the Games.
Even after all those years, all those interviews, the shrill whistle still surprised her. Odette's heart rate sped up, her breath caught in her throat. She scrunched the blue fabric between her fingers. "You got this," Cecelia whispered, squeezing her arm before letting go.
She didn't want her to let go. Wanted to be reminded of the fact that she didn't have to do this alone, that she wasn't alone. Her eyes moved to follow Cecelia's movements, mouth already beginning to beg her to stay near, to protect her. She didn't. She couldn't.
Instead, Odette smiled at the interviewer moving towards her. Neil had met his own but stood close enough she could hear the deep hum of his voice. That had to be enough. "Hello, Miss Byrne," the man said, a camera trailing behind him. "Let's get right to it, shall we? You lost a tribute in the bloodbath."
She took a deep breath while nodding slowly. Just a tribute. Any tribute. She could do this. "Unfortunately, we did. We advised him to leave the scene instead of fighting. I suppose that's easy to forget when you think the ticket to survival is a few feet away."
