Hunger Games 1

Chapter 17 The Confession of Love (1)
Betrayal, this is my first feeling.It's ridiculous to say that only when trust is established can we talk about betrayal, and the trust between me and Peeta is not written in black and white, and it is certain. After all, we are "tributes" to each other's competition.But the person who gave me bread at the risk of being beaten, held my hand on the chariot during the opening ceremony, covered me in front of the red-haired Avax, and insisted on telling Haymitch that I can hunt... Can't you trust me completely?

On the other hand, I'm also relieved that we don't have to pretend to be friends anymore.Apparently, the tenuous connection that had been so foolishly established between us had since been severed.It was also the right time to do so, the Hunger Games started two days later, mutual trust can only become a person's weakness.Whatever the reasons for Peeta's decision—I suspect it has something to do with my grades being better than his—I can only be grateful for the decision.Maybe he also realized that we are each other's opponents, and the sooner we accept this fact, the better.

"Okay," I said, "so, what's the new plan?"

"You two each spend four hours on etiquette with Effie and four hours on interviewing skills with me," Haymitch said. "You learn from Effie first, Katniss."

I can't imagine Effie teaching me anything, it will take four hours, but she will definitely teach to the last minute.Effie and I went to my room, and she put me in a floor-length dress and heels, which wasn't really what I was going to wear for an interview, and she taught me how to walk.Wearing high heels is the most difficult thing for me to adapt to. I have never worn high heels before, and I am not used to walking with trembling toes in high heels.But didn't Effie walk around in high heels all day long?So I made up my mind that if she could do it, so could I.Then the skirt brought a new problem, it always tripped my feet, so I just lifted the skirt up, and Effie swooped like a hawk when she saw it, slapped the back of my hand and shouted: "The skirt can't Higher than the ankle." I finally got over the heels.Then there's the sitting, standing—obviously I love bowing my head—eye contact, gestures, smiling.Smiling is mainly a question of how to maintain it.Effie made me say a hundred monotonous words, smiling at the beginning, smiling during, and smiling at the end.When it was time to eat, the muscles in my face were still twitching.

"Okay, I've done my best." Effie said with a sigh of relief. "Remember, Katniss, you have to make the audience like you."

"Do you think they won't like me?" I asked.

"Not if you stare at them all the time. Why don't you save that piercing stare for the arena? Now, you gotta feel like you're with your friends," Effie said.

"They want to bet how long I can live." I suddenly lost my temper, "They are not my friends!"

"Hey, try it, pretend it is." Effie interrupted me.She smiled at me calmly afterwards. "Look, like this, even when you make me angry, I'm still smiling at you."

"Yes, it's quite sincere." I said, "I'm going to eat." I kicked off my high heels, ran to the restaurant with a thud, and lifted the skirt to the top of my thigh.

Both Peeta and Haymitch seemed to be in high spirits, so I figured the interview skills training would pay off tomorrow morning.But I was wrong to think so.After lunch, Haymitch took me to the reception room, directed me to sit on the sofa, and frowned at me for a while.

"How?" I finally asked.

"I'm wondering what to do?" he said, "how do you present yourself in public? Charismatic? Aloof? Fierce? So far, you're a rising star. You volunteered to rescue My own sister, Cinna also makes you look amazing, your grades are high, you have aroused a lot of interest in the audience, but no one knows who you are. I want you to be in tomorrow's interview Make an impression so you can get sponsorship," Haymitch said.

I've seen countless interviews with "Tribute" before, and I know he has a point.If a contestant can captivate the audience, whether it's humorous, brutal or eccentric, he'll be loved by the audience.

"What's Peeta's way? Can't I ask?" I said.

"He's the likable type, and he has a natural, self-deprecating sense of humor," Haymitch said, "but when you open your mouth, it comes across as sullen or hostile."

"I didn't," I said.

"Well, I don't know how you were so bright and sunny that day in the chariot, but I haven't seen you like that before or since," Haymitch said.

"But you haven't given me much reason to be happy." I retorted.

"You don't have to please me, and I'm not going to help you, just assume I'm the audience." Haymitch said, "Find a way to please me."

"Okay!" I yelled.Haymitch was posing as a reporter, and I was trying to answer the questions in my own favor, but I couldn't, I was too angry at what Haymitch just said, and I wasn't in the mood to answer the questions.The only thing I can't get out of my head is how unfair this whole thing - The Hunger Games - is.Why should I act like a clown to please those I hate?The longer the interview went on, the more I couldn't hide my anger, until I literally sprayed the answers in his face.

"Well, that's enough," he said, "we need to look elsewhere for the angel. Not only are you hostile, but I don't know anything about you, I've asked you fifty questions, and I don't know anything about your Life, your family, the things you love are still in the air, and the audience wants to get to know you, Katniss."

"But I don't want them to know me! They've taken away my future, they can't get the life that used to belong to me!" I said.

"Then lie! Make up a story!" Haymitch said.

"I'm not good at lying," I said.

"Then, you'd better learn quickly. Your charisma is about as good as a dead slug's," Haymitch said.

Oh, that hurts so much.Haymitch, too, must have realized he was talking too much, and his voice softened. "I have an idea, you pretend to be humble!"

"Humble?" I followed him.

"You just say, can't believe kids from District [-] can do so well. It's all way beyond your imagination. Talk about the clothes Cinna designs, how nice the people are, how amazing the city is to you .If you don’t want to talk about yourself, at least praise the audience. Just don’t shut up, okay? You just talk!”

The remaining hours were a real pain.It didn't take long for me to realize that I couldn't keep talking.Haymitch tried again to make me look arrogant, but I wasn't that arrogant.I was small and thin, and obviously incapable of appearing ferocious.At the same time, I'm not the intelligent, funny, sexy, or mysterious type.

Towards the end of training, I didn't do anything.Haymitch had started drinking, and was speaking slightly mocking and weary. "I give up, honey. Then you just answer the questions directly, and don't let the audience see how much you disdain them."

The dinner that day was eaten in my own room. I asked for a lot of food until I was about to vomit.After I ate, I smashed the cups and plates to pieces to vent my hatred for Haymitch, the Hunger Games, and all the Capitols.The red-haired girl came in to make my bed, and her eyes widened at the sight of the mess. "Never mind," I yelled at her, "don't mind anything."

I hate her, too, for blaming me with her talking eyes for seeing me as a coward, a monster, a Capitol puppet, now and then.For her, justice will come one day.At least my death can pay for the boy who died in the woods.

Hearing my shout, the girl not only didn't leave, but closed the door and went into the bathroom.She took a cloth from the bathroom, wiped my face gently, and wiped my hands clean where the dishes had cut them.Why is she doing this?Why did I let her do this?

"I should have saved you," I whispered.

She shook her head, was she saying we were right to leave her alone?Are you saying she has forgiven me?
"No, that's not right," I said.

She tapped her lips with her finger, then pointed to my breasts.I think she means that if I do that I'll become an Avax too.Maybe, then become an Avax, or die.

After a while, I helped the red-haired girl clean up the room. After an hour, all the crumbs and food in the room were cleaned up, and she put my bed down.I huddled in the sheets like a five-year-old child, and let her pull the corners of the quilt for me.Then she left.I told her to wait until I fell asleep and she would be there when I woke up.I want this girl to protect me even though she never had mine.

Early the next morning, it was not the red-haired girl who appeared next to me, but the image design team.My course with Effie and Haymitch is over.Today I belong to Cinna, he is my last hope.Maybe he can make me look mentally pretty so no one cares what comes out of my mouth.

The makeup artist kept busy with me until late in the afternoon.With makeup on, my skin is a glossy satin, my arms are painted with cutouts, and my twenty perfectly shaped nails are painted with flames.Afterwards, Vinia did my hair, starting with a pattern of red rope, starting from the left ear, going around the back of the hair, and ending in a braid that fell from the right shoulder.They painted my face white with a thick foundation and then lined it.Big black eyes, full red lips, thick long eyelashes.Finally, apply gold powder all over the body to make it shimmer with golden light.

That's when Cinna walked in, holding what was supposed to be my costume, but it was under the cloth and I couldn't see it. "Close your eyes," he ordered.

As I got dressed, the silky lining dangled down my smooth naked body, but then I felt the clothes were heavy, like forty pounds.I grab Octavia's hand and feel my way into my shoes, delighted to find they're two inches lower than the ones Effie wore to practice.I couldn't stand upright at first, but it took me a while to adjust.Then, there was silence all around.

"Can I open my eyes?" I asked.

"Yes," Cinna said, "open your eyes."

The man standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror must be an alien creature.Glossy skin, sparkling eyes, pearly clothes.My clothes, oh, my clothes are studded with sparkling gems, red, yellow, white, and the gems are set in patterns of flames.As long as my body moves slightly, it gives people the feeling of being surrounded by raging flames.

I'm not pretty, I'm not beautiful, but I shine like the sun.

For a moment, everyone stared at me. "Oh, Cinna," I finally said softly, "thank you."

"Turn around and let me see," he said.I raised my arms and twirled them around.The entire image design team cheered with incomparable admiration.

Cinna dismissed the others, then let me walk around the room in my clothes and shoes, which were much easier to walk in than Effie's shoes.The skirt hangs naturally and I don't have to carry it when I walk, so I have one less thing to worry about.

"So, all set for the talk show?" Cinna asked.I could tell by the look on his face that he had talked to Haymitch and he knew how bad I was.

"Damn it, Haymitch called me a dead slug, I couldn't do it no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't do it, I couldn't be what he wanted me to be," I said.

Cinna thought about it. "Then why don't you just be yourself."

"Myself? That's no good either. Haymitch said I was too serious and hostile," I said.

"Ah, you talk...you can't do without Haymitch," Cinna said, grinning. "I don't think you are like that. The image design team likes you very much. You even won the recognition of the competition organizers. As for the people in the Capitol City, they are all talking about you. Everyone admires your spirit. "

In my spirit, this is a new statement.I'm not sure what that means, but it's like saying I'm a fighter, brave, without saying I'm unfriendly.Well, maybe I can't give love to everyone I meet, maybe I don't smile much, but I do care about some people.

Cinna put my cold hand in his warm one. "As you answer the questions, imagine yourself talking to a friend from back home. Who's your best friend?" Cinna asked.

"Gail," I replied immediately, "but it's no use, Cinna, I can't tell Gail about me, he knows."

"What about me? Can you consider me a friend?" Cinna asked.

Of all the people I've met since I left home, Cinna is my favorite.The first time I saw him, I had a good impression of him, and he hasn't let me down until now. "I suppose so, but—"

“I sit on the VIP table with the other stylists, and you can spot me right away. When you ask a question, you look at me and answer as honestly as you can,” says Sienna.

(End of this chapter)