CHAPTER SEVEN!

THE INTERVIEW.

"I AM THINKING WE CONTINUE DOWN THE SAME PATH,"

Rosalie looks over at Lila who is setting out several make-up pallets along the surface of the table. The brunette looks at the outfit that is hanging in the corner, a pale lilac colour which is very similar to what she wore for the tribute parade. It's just as beautiful as well.

"It's very beautiful," Rosalie comments as she runs her hand over the material. "I'm starting to see a bit of a habit with your outfits,"

"Purple is a beautiful colour," Lila replies. "I think it suits you?"

"Yeah, maybe,"

The teenager sits down in the chair as Lila grabs a hairbrush from the table, a brush that is much more extravagant than any brush she has ever owned. It is gently pushed through her hair in order to remove the knots and make it easier for it to be styled neatly for the interview.

Lila quietly hums, braiding the sides of her hair and pinning them back. She then curls the loose hair that is available, hoping to make it look much fancier. A clip is fastened into the side, just below the braid.

The dark haired woman moves around the front, the makeup now in her hands. Rosalie closes her eyes and allows the woman to do her thing, the soft brushes of the make up brush hitting her skin. It happens for over twenty minutes and when she's done, the brunette opens up her eyes and looks at Lila.

"All done," Lila says with a soft smile pulling at her lips. "Nervous?"

"Yeah, a little bit. I'm not really one for large crowds," Rosalie breathes heavily.

"Don't worry about it, smile and act like you want to be there and they'll love you,"

Finnick smiles as he watches the brunette nervously fiddle with her fingers. He can practically feel the apprehension rolling off of her in waves. His hand lands gently on her shoulder, squeezing it assuringly.

"You'll be fine," He says sweetly, her eyes now connecting with his. They shimmer with nervousness, fear even more so evident. "They'll love you. How could they not?"

"Quite easily actually," Rosalie responds with a hesitant smile. "And if they hate me, nobody will want to sponsor me,"

"You're underestimating my abilities, sweetheart. I'm quite good at convincing sponsors actually,"

The brunette rolls her eyes, shoving him away softly. He chuckles and pulls her into his arms, a hug for support and comfort. She leans her forehead against his shoulder, his hand stroking her hair. It's an overall comforting position for the shaking girl as she continuously thinks about what is to come not only tonight, but tomorrow as well.

"Just smile a lot and pretend you're happy to be on stage," Finnick instructs as he pulls away, his hands remaining on her shoulders.

She nods one last time and takes a deep breath before kissing his cheek gently. The girl joins her District partner in the holding area where everybody is awaiting their turn on the stage. Zachariah looks emotionless as usual, standing casually with his back leaning against the wall.

Rosalie watches as the people from District Three have their turn and when she sees the boy walk off, her hands are literally shaking.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Please welcome, Rosalie Barton of District Four!"

The brunette almost stumbles her way onto stage but manages to compose herself. Rosalie's smile seems to make itself known as she looks out at the thousands of people, a few making noises as they look at her dress.

Caesar's smile is even brighter than her's, almost as if he's happy to see her which she guesses he is. He's happy to talk to them now but will also be happy to watch twenty three of them die in a few weeks time.

"Rosalie! It is wonderful to see you!" He beams excitedly, gesturing for the teenager to sit in the chair opposite him. She sits down and plays with the material of her dress nervously. "What a beautiful dress!"

"Thank you! Lila put a lot of effort into it," Rosalie stutters quietly, the microphone carrying her words out to the crowd. A few mummers can be heard after she finishes.

"You seem rather nervous," Caesar speaks.

"Y-yeah a little bit," She replies.

"That's just fine. How about we talk about your dress? I've noticed it's purple in colour, much like the one from the tribute parade, why is that?"

"It's a symbolic sort of thing, I think. Lila told me of hurricanes and their colours, one of which can be purple," The girl stutters out in response. "Hurricanes gather their strength from water,"

The man nods his head and seems rather intrigued by her answer. "And you, being from District Four, are at your strongest in water? Well, a lot of thought has certainly been put into that. You're like a storm,"

The audience claps as the camera pans over to Lila, the spotlight following afterwards. She smiles and gives a small thumbs up. The attention is then put back onto the girl on the stage.

"Now, what about your home? We like to hear about the lives you lived before you came here," Caesar comments.

"Uh, my family are very involved in fishing and the water - like most people in District Four really," She replies.

"I see. Any siblings?"

"Mm, two brothers,"

"And what did you say to them before you left?"

The questions were now borderline personal, something that she doesn't want to share with the people who will be actively rooting for her death in a few days. Why should she have to share her life with people who are going to help end it?

The interviewer is staring at her intently, awaiting her answer. The girl takes a deep breath.

"Just what most people said, that I'd try my hardest," Rosalie swallows, not wanting to go into any further.

"I and everybody else knows you certainly will. Rosalie Barton, District Four!"

The sight makes her physically sick, the bright lights and loud noise coming from the streets below. They're throwing a parade, celebrating the fact that twenty four children will be made to kill one another in less than twenty four hours.

Rosalie's eyes are tired with sleep, her gaze watching the view out the window. How any of the tributes are sleeping during this is beyond her. A presence alerts her and she snaps her head to see her best friend walking over. He takes a seat to her left and she leans her head against his shoulder, like she has done so much the past few days. Being near him is enough to comfort her.

"I hate them," The brunette whispers to the boy who nods his head. "How can they carry on like that?"

"They don't have a conscience, sunshine. The people in the Districts are pawns to them," Finnick responds.

"This time tomorrow night, I could be dead,"

It dawns on her all at once. By tomorrow, Rosalie Barton may be no more. She might take a sword to the stomach or an arrow to the skull — her family will have to watch her die through a screen. When she dies, she will more than likely die alone - either that or with a body looming over her, her blood dripping from them.

Before she even realises it, tears begin to fall from her eyes. Finnick pulls her in closer, hugging her to his side. His lips press against the top of her head, trying his absolute hardest to calm her down.

"Don't think like that," Finnick comments. "You could win. You might not be the strongest but you're smart and that is usually better in the long run,"

"Won't do me much good if I have a knife to my throat," She replies dryly.

"Stop thinking about the hypotheticals. Don't try and fight, hide. Hiding is the best thing to do if you don't think you can fight,"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah?"

Rosalie nods and huddles into him further, wrapping her arms around his waist. The two of them lay back on the bed and she rests her head on his chest, closing her eyes. Finnick's hand gently combs through her hair as she listens to his heartbeat, the sound lulling her to sleep.

For this moment, she can pretend that it's just the two of them — no Capitol, no Games and no death. The last thing on her mind when she falls to sleep is the of Finnick and the fact this could be their last night together.

NOTE!

Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading!