The creature standing before me in the full-length mirror

has come from another world. Where skin shimmers and eyes

flash and apparently they make their clothes from jewels. Because

my dress, oh, my dress is entirely covered in reflective

precious gems, red and yellow and white with bits of blue that

accent the tips of the flame design. The slightest movement

gives the impression I am engulfed in tongues of fire.

I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.

For a while, we all just stare at me. “Oh, Cinna,” I finally

whisper. “Thank you.”

“Twirl for me,” he says. I hold out my arms and spin in a

circle. The prep team screams in admiration.

Cinna dismisses the team and has me move around in the

dress and shoes, which are infinitely more manageable than

Effie’s. The dress hangs in such a way that I don’t have to lift

the skirt when I walk, leaving me with one less thing to worry about.

“So, all ready for the interview then?” asks Cinna. I can see

by his expression that he’s been talking to Haymitch. That he

knows how dreadful I am.

“I’m awful. Haymitch called me a dead slug. No matter what

we tried, I couldn’t do it. I just can’t be one of those people he

wants me to be,” I say.

Cinna thinks about this a moment. “Why don’t you just be yourself?”

“Myself? That’s no good, either. Haymitch says I’m sullen

and hostile,” I say.

“Well, you are . . . around Haymitch,” says Cinna with a grin.

“I don’t find you so. The prep team adores you. You even won

over the Gamemakers. And as for the citizens of the Capitol,

well, they can’t stop talking about you. No one can help but

admire your spirit.”

My spirit. This is a new thought. I’m not sure exactly what it

means, but it suggests I’m a fighter. In a sort of brave way. It’s

not as if I’m never friendly. Okay, maybe I don’t go around loving

everybody I meet, maybe my smiles are hard to come by,

but I do care for some people.

Cinna takes my icy hands in his warm ones. “Suppose, when

you answer the questions, you think you’re addressing a

friend back home. Who would your best friend be?” asks Cinna.

“Gale,” I say instantly. “Only it doesn’t make sense, Cinna. I

would never be telling Gale those things about me. He already

knows them.”

“What about me? Could you think of me as a friend?” asks Cinna.

Of all the people I’ve met since I left home, Cinna is by far

my favorite. I liked him right off and he hasn’t disappointed

me yet. “I think so, but —”

“I’ll be sitting on the main platform with the other stylists.

You’ll be able to look right at me. When you’re asked a question,

find me, and answer it as honestly as possible,” says Cinna.

“Even if what I think is horrible?” I ask. Because it might be, really.

“Especially if what you think is horrible,” says Cinna. “You’ll try it?”

I nod. It’s a plan. Or at least a straw to grasp at.

Too soon it’s time to go. The interviews take place on a

stage constructed in front of the Training Center. Once I leave

my room, it will be only minutes until I’m in front of the

crowd, the cameras, all of Panem.

As Cinna turns the doorknob, I stop his hand. “Cinna . . .” I’m

completely overcome with stage fright.

“Remember, they already love you,” he says gently. “Just be

yourself.”

We meet up with the rest of the District 12 crowd at the

elevator. Portia and her gang have been hard at work. Peeta

looks striking in a black suit with flame accents. While we look

well together, it’s a relief not to be dressed identically. Haymitch

and Effie are all fancied up for the occasion. I avoid

Haymitch, but accept Effie’s compliments. Effie can be tiresome

and clueless, but she’s not destructive like Haymitch.

When the elevator opens, the other tributes are being lined

up to take the stage. All twenty-four of us sit in a big arc

throughout the interviews. I’ll be last, or second to last since

the girl tribute precedes the boy from each district. How I

wish I could be first and get the whole thing out of the way!

Now I’ll have to listen to how witty, funny, humble, fierce, and

charming everybody else is before I go up. Plus, the audience

will start to get bored, just as the Gamemakers did. And I can’t

exactly shoot an arrow into the crowd to get their attention.

Right before we parade onto the stage, Haymitch comes up

behind Peeta and me and growls, “Remember, you’re still a

happy pair. So act like it.”

What? I thought we abandoned that when Peeta asked for

separate coaching. But I guess that was a private, not a public

thing. Anyway, there’s not much chance for interaction now,

as we walk single-file to our seats and take our places.

Just stepping on the stage makes my breathing rapid and

shallow. I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples. It’s a relief

to get to my chair, because between the heels and my legs

shaking, I’m afraid I’ll trip. Although evening is falling, the City

Circle is brighter than a summer’s day. An elevated seating

unit has been set up for prestigious guests, with the stylists

commanding the front row. The cameras will turn to them

when the crowd is reacting to their handiwork.