12. Training of a Different Kind

When I said I had a lot of work ahead of me, I definitely wasn't lying. Ross left Bane alone most of the time, mainly devoting his time, energy, and patience to me. I wasn't sure whether to feel concerned or flattered by this.

Regardless, we were cooped up in our apartment all day, every day, spending most of the time trying to make me make eye contact when talking to Ross, or not hunch over like I had a hump on my back. At first I thought he was setting me up like I was going to talk to royalty or something.

I've got to listen to him, though, I told myself repeatedly. He knows what he's doing. If it worked for him, it can work for me. Despite sometimes losing my patience with Ross, I had to remember that he knew what to do for interviews. After all, he went through this experience not too long ago. I had to trust him. It would seem kind of stupid to ignore his advice.

For the first few days of prepping, I didn't see Demi, but Regina stopped by one day, just to get measurements for Bane's outfit. I had a feeling Demi would do the same for me soon. Sienna was giving tips as well in addition to Ross, which was nice. I didn't think Sienna would know much about being interviewed, but she had a good idea about stage presence. She was District 1's escort after all, so she was on camera when reaping day came. She gave me tips of her own: pretend the camera isn't there, don't look nervous, walk out with a confident air.

Confidence was key.

There were only two days now before interviews, three days before the Games themselves. It was weird, saying the Games were so close. Sometimes I still felt as if this whole thing was just a vivid dream I thought was too good to be true. But I knew I wasn't dreaming. Nobody could dream up this kind of experience.

It was the middle of the afternoon when Demi barged in, carrying a dress bag. She's going to show me it? She whisked me away to my bedroom, locking the door. She set the bag on the bed.

"Going to have a fitting?" I laughed, eyeing the dress bag curiously.

"Yes," she said. "But you aren't allowed to look."

"No fair," I whined. "It's my dress; I should see the real thing!"

"I want you to get a first look when everybody else does," she retorted. "Now, strip."

"While my window gives people a good view of me?" I eyed the window warily.

"Then close the blinds and flick on the lights!"

A little eager to try on the dress, I shut the blinds and Demi flicked on the lights. I stripped down to my underwear.

"Okay, close your eyes, and I'll guide you into the dress," she said. I closed my eyes, trying not to peek, though it was really hard to resist temptation. "Step slightly forward. That's it, now the other leg."

I bent over, grabbing the fabric beneath my fingers. It was a strapless dress. Already I liked it, I liked different. Demi helped me shrug it on. It felt a little big, mainly around where my breasts were. It felt roomy, and I hated dresses when they felt roomy.

"How does it feel?" Demi asked.

"Big," I groaned.

"No worries, that's why I have pins with me. Now, don't fidget while I make the adjustments."

I stood statue-still as Demi poked the dress with pins. I could feel a few as they pierced the dress. I was trying to picture me wearing the dress even though I didn't actually see it yet. I wasn't sure what makeup I would have on with it, but I knew for a fact it'd coordinate with the dress. My choker obviously would be around my neck.

Consciously, and carefully, I touched my choker. I rubbed the charm. Bring me good luck for the interview and for the Games. I knew I probably wouldn't need much luck in the Games, but it didn't hurt to ask for a little help.

"You nervous?" Demi asked after a few silent minutes.

"A little bit, but Ross has been training me, so I'm feeling better," I confessed, slouching.

"Straighten up."

"Sorry." I stood straight and still. "I've been having a straight back ever since I underwent interview training."

"I'm almost finished, just stay like this for a few more minutes, Crystal. You'll be able to slouch again soon."

My back started to ache from standing tall, but I endured it for Demi. It wasn't too long afterwards that she let me slip off the dress carefully and hand it back to her. She zipped it up back in the bag and I redressed, shaking my hair. I pulled the blinds up, and Demi shut the lights off.

"I just need to make some minor adjustments," she said happily. "Excellent." She studied me. "Hmm, I should probably think about what we're going to do for your face and hair, Crystal."

"You haven't figured that out? And I thought it was the prep team's job to do whatever they wanted on me?"

"Oh no, dear, I give them my order, and they fulfill it." Demi shrugged. "I couldn't imagine how they would make you up if I let them to do what they wanted."

I shuddered to even think. I wasn't concerned with Remi and Maggie so much as Jackie.

We left my bedroom, leaving the dress bag on the bed. Sienna was coaching Bane about what she told me before. She might as well spread the word while she could, she didn't have many more days to see him and me. In three days, she'd see us on TV for as long as we lived in the Games.

Ross was eating lunch, so I figured I'd listen in on Sienna talking to Bane. Demi wandered off to talk to Ross.

"It sounds simple enough," Bane considered, throwing an arm over the top of the couch.

"It should be," Sienna told him. "Once you get comfortable, you'll breeze by it like it's nothing. The key is to think of good things to say on the fly if you've got nothing prepared ahead of time."

"I'll work on that."

"You'll probably do better at it than me," I chimed in. Bane looked at me. "I still need to work hard."

"Yes, and speaking of that, we're not done yet," Ross called. "You and I are going to do a mock interview in a few minutes, Crystal."

"Yay," I moaned.

Bane and Sienna ate while Ross and I took over the couch. I fidgeted. I adjusted myself, sitting up straight, chin raised a little bit with confidence. Ross came to sit down across from me.

"This will help you with your interview," he started, lounging against the couch. I shot him a nasty glare. "Hey, I'm not the one who needs help, so I'm free to interview you in any comfortable position I want. Just try to answer the best you can. Pretend I'm Caesar."

Yeah, that'd be hard to do, considering Caesar looked so different from Ross. "I'll give it a shot," I said. "But shouldn't I pretend I'm talking to someone I know I'm comfortable with when I'm out there?"

"If it helps you when you do your interview, then do so. Hmm...where to begin...?" Ross was murmuring questions under his breath while I sat patiently, waiting. I wasn't prepared for what he'd ask me, but I wouldn't be for what Caesar would ask me either. I guess Ross was trying to anticipate what Caesar would ask me. It would be a big help to me if Caesar asked questions that Ross did.

Ross cleared his throat. "So, Crystal, how have you managed so far here in the Capitol?"

"Eh, it's had its ups and downs," I admitted, trying my best to hold eye contact with Ross. "I mean, don't get me wrong, everything has been great since I got here. It's just...I don't know, I still sometimes think this is a dream."

"But it's not."

"I've had a few dreams about being here. Ever since I got close to the age of being reaped, I've wanted to come here, to be in the Hunger Games. My dad helped me out on that by training me—"

"Ah-ah, no," Ross stopped me.

"What did I say?" I asked defensively.

"You can't mention that your dad trained you up for the Games. The last thing you need is for your family to get into trouble."

Well, I didn't want Dad to get whipped or put to death because of something I said on TV. And I certainly didn't want Mom to go through anymore than she was already enduring.

"Sorry, I-I wasn't thinking." I looked down at my hands. "I got carried away."

"Just remember that you can't slipup like that," Ross said gently. "When you're on live TV, people won't forget slipups easily."

"Thank you for adding pressure on me," I snarled.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes, I know. So it's been your dream to be in the Games?"

"Yes." I calmed down a little bit.

"Look at me." I snapped my eyes to Ross's. Keep them there, or act like you're looking at him but look at something close to him. Maybe he won't notice you're not looking into his eyes. "So, it's been your dream for years, yet you never volunteered. Why?"

"I wanted to make sure I was old enough to go in." I shrugged. "I figured the older I was, the better my odds would be."

"Well, your odds would be better, being that you come from one of the wealthier districts. Help me to understand something, Crystal. What makes you different from the others?"

"My determination and motivation," I said haughtily. "Nobody wants this more than me, I can tell you that right now. It's been my dream for years, and I'm living it now. I'm not about to let someone take it away from me when I've come so far."

"That's a good answer. Be fierce when you say that, too," Ross noted.

"That's if Caesar asks that, though," I huffed.

"Then hope he does. The fire in your eyes when you talk about being in the Games being your dream is what brings you out. You get passionate about what you love. People love nothing more than a tribute determined to take it all."

The mock interview didn't last much longer after that. Ross only asked me a few more questions: who did I see as the biggest threat, what my strategy would be, and what did I want to prove by being in the Games. Some answers were better than others. Ross complimented me on an overall good performance, though my answers needed a little more work. I was relaxed, but that was because there were no cameras watching. If I talked to Caesar like I just did with Ross, I had no doubt my interview would go smoothly.

* * *

After dinner, I had crashed on the couch. Who knew that undergoing interview training was so exhausting? The odd thing was one moment I was asleep on the couch, and the next I found myself in my bed—not changed of course—but still in bed. The blinds were closed; all I saw was pitch black.

I slipped out of bed, fumbling for the lights. Yawning, I changed for bed and almost went back, except I noticed something was missing. I felt for my choker necklace, it wasn't there. My heart raced, my hands only touching the skin of my throat rather than a choker. No, this has to be a dream. I couldn't lose my good luck charm!

A chuckle in the doorway made me seethe. I could see Bane's figure in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

I snorted irritably. "What's so funny?" I snarled, putting my hands on my hips.

"You're worrying over a little necklace." He dangled my choker in front of me.

My mouth fell slightly open. "You took it from me?" I hissed. "Why?"

"Just to see how you'd react."

"Give it back."

"You'll have to get it from me." There was a challenge in his tone.

Bane slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door. Ross and Sienna had to have gone to bed, otherwise Bane wouldn't have minded running about the apartment with my choker in his hand. Why in the hell would he take that? That was important to me! Not only was it a gift I never lost, but it was my good luck charm!

I chased him around my bedroom, taking him out at the legs. His body crashed to the floor and I climbed on him, trying to grab my necklace. He flipped me onto my back, pinning me down in less than a minute. I hissed, blue eyes raging. Bane hovered over me, triumphant. I grimaced.

"That wasn't very fun," he taunted. "I expected more of a challenge."

I could feel the choker resting against one of my wrists Bane had pinned. "Let me up and let me have my choker back."

"Girls bring out the claws when people steal their jewelry." Bane snickered.

"I would claw your eyes out if you had lost that." I wriggled but to no avail. Bane had me pinned and didn't look like he was straining to hold me. "That means a lot to me."

"I've noticed." He smirked. "Like I said, Crystal, you could never beat me in a fight, not unless you had a weapon on you."

"You said nothing about me having a weapon," I recalled. But I did remember him saying the rest.

Bane lowered his head close to mine, lips at my ear. "If it ever comes down to the pack as being the final six, pray that you don't run into me," he breathed.

I shuddered. He pulled his head up, gazing into my eyes. He clambered off me, dropping the choker into my hand. He pulled me up by my arm, but I ripped my arm out of his grip.

I tried fastening the necklace back on but I always had trouble with it.

"Do you want me to do it?" Bane offered.

"I'd rather you go back to your room," I said coldly.

"I won't take it from you, I promise."

I sighed through my nostrils. Bane took the choker from me, locking it around my throat.

"See? I told you I wouldn't steal it."

"Odd question: do you know how I got in here?" I asked.

"Yeah. You were passed out on the couch, and I figured you'd feel more comfortable in bed, so I carried you in here."

"I had to have been out cold, because I never felt you pick me up," I whispered. And I never felt you steal my choker off my neck.

I wondered if Bane was bipolar. First, he carried me into bed—which was an oddly nice gesture—but yet he stole my choker, just to see how I'd react. Or maybe he's just trying to have a little fun while he still can, I thought. There wasn't much time left for innocent fun. In three days, Bane would get some real, violent fun.

"You were, trust me."

"Oh. Well...thank you," I mumbled.

"You're welcome. I'm not always annoying like you think I am."

"I've never said you were annoying," I retorted.

"I can tell you think that of me, though. I see it in your eyes." He sniggered. "I'll leave you be now."

Bane sauntered out of my bedroom, leaving me with the chance to feel better, knowing that my good luck charm was in its rightful place.