𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓵𝔂 - (𝓕.𝓞𝓭𝓪𝓲𝓻)

06.

vol i
☼ chapter six ☼

Preparation for the interviews began early in the morning. Theia had spent four hours with Ambrose, who instructed her on presentation. It consisted of posture correction, how to gracefully walk in heels—which she had never worn before—eye contact, smiling, and hand gestures. She found it more exhausting than the training had been. Ambrose was excessive, not content to simply move on to each new aspect. No, he wanted perfection. He needed perfection. She was glad when they had to stop for lunch, happily kicking off the shoes to give her feet a much-needed break. Evan seemed to be in a better mood than she was; perhaps the content session would be better.

It was not.

Rafael was intense, going through all the possibilities and all the different ways she could portray herself. Humorous, charming, fierce, or brutal? As much as it was overwhelming, Theia knew how important it was; she had watched the tribute interviews for years. The more you appeal to the crowd, the greater favour you gain. The impression she gave would determine what was achievable in terms of sponsors. Rafael stressed that being from District 3 normally puts you on the back foot, with the public expecting a physically inept, charmless intellectual contestant, one that does not normally have good betting odds. Her score had thrown that up in the air. People were fascinated, not knowing what to expect from her.

After mindlessly answering false interview questions for hours, she was finally able to return to her room. Restless once again, she took to reading, wanting to finish the pile Beetee had kindly given her. She knew the contents of the books would come in handy; it was only a matter of remembering them.

~

She was awoken by the prep team standing over her. They agonisingly worked on her till the late afternoon, repeating the same processes she had gone through in preparation for the ceremony. Her nails are repainted, and her skin is covered in glitter. Sorrel works on her hair again, twisting strands into a beautiful up-do and completing it with gemstone clips. Pale makeup graces her face, with faint shimmers on her eyelids.

Blayse enters with her dress, which is elegant, a lovely cream shade, and made out of satin. Its v-neck shape is one Theia had not dared to wear before. They slip it over her body, adding a pair of matching heels, and spin her to face the mirror.
Garnet is beaming at her, "You look like an angel."
Avara agrees. "An absolute dream."
Blayse is grinning, "Just wait for the finishing touch, ladies. Close your eyes, Theia." She complies and soon feels an added weight on her shoulders.
She can hear the prep team gasp. "You can open them."

Theia opens her eyes and finds herself lost for words. Blayse had added another layer to the dress. It was sheer and covered in thousands of stunning beads, all of which had been hand-sewn into small stars. It was utterly stunning. The slightest movement gave her an encompassing glow.

The team is dismissed, the three of them screaming with admiration on their way out.
"How are you feeling, prepared?" Theia can't help but sigh at the question.
"As much as I can be, everyone's made sure of that."
"You've got nothing to worry about. The citizens of the Capitol haven't stopped talking about you." Blayse had never had so much interest in her work; she had often been overlooked in previous games. There had never been this much intrigue over a tribute from District 3 either. "You know you can go in there and play the game, manipulate them how you want; you're capable of it."

~

They meet with the others. Hemera had dressed Evan in a suit with similar material to her outfit. The mentors and, of course, Ambrose are dressed up for the occasion. Rafael is reassuring her as they make their way down. When the elevator opens, the other tributes are lined up to take their seats. Theia was glad her interview was earlier on, so she didn't have to listen to all of them.