GAMES
"Do you know what the reason for these games even is?"
"Of course I do. To punish us for the Dark Days. The war."
"Exactly. And do you know what that means?"
"What?"
"No one wins when it comes to the Games. Twenty-three tributes lose their liv...
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***
The next day, Verona was diligent in her efforts to try to turn Shaylin into the most proper and poised tribute District 10 had ever seen. Unfortunately, for the Capitolite, the blonde tribute's mind was elsewhere.
At first, the older woman had tried to remain calm. Her urgings and advice to improve Shaylin's manners being the only thing she had to offer the seventeen-year-old at the moment. However, the more the blonde zoned out, the more insistent and bossy Verona became, leading them both to become highly annoyed with each other.
"Sit straighter! Remember to smile! Cross your legs—not at the knee, at the ankle!" were some of the many corrections that Verona made during their few hours together.
Shaylin had never seen the escort appear so uptight in the time she had known her, and that was saying something because everyone in the Capitol was uptight. At least, that is what Shaylin thought when comparing them to the citizens of District 10.
The blonde tribute finally snapped though.
Verona insisted that the younger girl practice walking in her heels, which was no small feat for the teenager. The most height she had ever had on a heel was with the boots she wore during the parade, but even then, all she had to do was stand still on the chariot. The heels that Rezin sent over for her interview outfit were ridiculous though. And, to make it worse, Verona had placed a book on top of her head, critiquing her posture every time it dropped to her feet.
She had been pacing back and forth for thirty minutes and her feet were already aching. She hoped there was some sort of Capitol medicine to help relieve the blisters she was sure she would have. In the short time she walked, the book had fallen from her head eight times, causing the tension in the room to grow each time. The ninth time, Verona snapped and Shaylin snapped back.
"I'm so sorry, Verona, that I can't find it in myself to give a shit if my posture isn't perfect when I'm going to die in a few days anyway," she seethed sarcastically.
The air was tense for a moment, the two glaring at each other before Verona's expression softened. With a sigh, the older woman sat down in one of the chairs in the living area. She ran a hand through her violet locks anxiously and Shaylin was surprised that she willingly messed with her perfect curls.
"I apologize, Shaylin," Verona said quietly in her crisp Capitol accent. "I just—I want you to be perfect in your interview. The parade was their first impression of you, but the interview is where they get to know you. Well, at least believe that they know you. Your answers are all you, but the little nuances that show even a slight integration into the Capitol culture are what opens them up to accepting you as a possible Victor. This is as much a pageant as it is a fight to the death. They have to like you." It was the first time that Shaylin heard Verona actually acknowledge the brutality of the Games and the stakes that the tributes faced. "But, I want them to love you."
