Hey everyone! I know, I totally suck. I seriously cannot apologize for how sucky I am, but in my defense, I've been trying to do school work, apply to college, work, and maybe, possibly, in my dreams, have a social life. I've had very little time to sit down and write, and I just don't feel comfortable sending something out there that I banged out in ten minutes just to put something out there. BUT on the bright side, this chapter is finally the interviews! YAY! Its a tiny bit more OOC than my previous chapters, but I think it fits this chapter well. Also, this one is longer! Over 2600 words! (Okay, not that long, but long for me!) Anyway, enough chit chat - enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own THG.

XXXX

"Stop fidgeting," Portia chastised as she stood between me and the full length mirror. She had me dressed in a black suit with blue accents on the sleeves and the pant openings. Underneath the jacket I wore a deep orange dress shirt that appeared red in dark lighting. Obviously she and Cinna had decided to keep up the fire theme.

I stopped my wiggling and watched as she adjusted my shirt collar. "I'm sorry," I sighed. "I guess I'm just nervous."

"Speaking in front of an entire nation, who wouldn't be?" Portia's hands stilled as she smiled up at me.

I leveled a glare at her. "You are neither helpful nor funny."

She pressed her lips together, but a small burst of her gentle laugh managed to escape anyway. "Don't worry so much. You and I both know that you'll do fine."

"Do we?" I asked, hating how vulnerable I sounded. There was something so mother-like about Portia, despite the fact that she was only a handful of years older than me; it was easy to opening up to her.

Portia spun us around so that I now had my back to the mirror, and she remained facing me. "Peeta Mellark," she said, chin in the air and voice unwavering. "You have overcome obstacles that no child – or adult, really – should ever even have to imagine. You are strong, you are brave, you are smart," she placed a hand on my cheek, "and you have a kind soul. There is no doubt in my mind that you will do wonderfully on that stage."

"I just don't know how to make people like me," I whispered.

Portia sighed, though it held a wistful note. "Oh, Peeta. I promise you, when you and Katniss are finished tonight, the entire nation will be head-over-heels in love with you."

Her mention of Katniss brought the plan we had devised with Haymitch to the forefront of my mind once more. We were to confess our love to Panem this evening. Haymitch wanted Katniss to hint at it and get them all worked up, then I would step in and direct the conversation to some story about me being in love with her since the first time I saw her when we were five. It was the most romantic story the three of us could come up with, but that doesn't really mean much when you consider that the three of us don't have a romantic bone in our bodies. Regardless, it would have to work; Katniss and I were too dependent on this plan to gain sponsors.

I could feel the panic begin to rise in my gut, so I tried to quickly change the subject, asking Portia the first thing that came to mind. "Portia, have you ever been in love?"

She gave me a questioning look, but must have decided it was my nerves speaking. Sighing, she sat on the couch across the room and motioned for me to sit across from her. I did.

"Once, yes, I was in love." She stopped, seeing if that was enough to appease me. It wasn't, so she continued. "We grew up in the same apartment building. Same floor, even. He was a year older than me, and never let me forget it." She paused to let out a soft laugh. "We would chase each other all over that building, not a care in the world. But eventually, we grew too old to chase each other and too old to remain so blissfully unaware. At school, the kids would rave about the Hunger Games, all so excited to pick their favorites and watch them die." I couldn't help it, I flinched. "This boy and I, we never really joined in on the excitement. Quite the opposite really. We," she paused, obviously choosing her words carefully – she is still a Capitol worker after all, and I had no doubt this room was bugged. "We just were never that involved," she finally said.

I waited for her to continue, but when it was apparent she was finished, I pressed for more. "What happened? Why aren't you with him now?"

She stood and her face was nearly split in two by her smile. "Why, Peeta, whoever told you I'm not?" She winked.

I smiled as well, feeling more at ease than I had earlier. "Fair enough," I laughed.

Portia extended her hand to me. "Come on, it's about time to go, and Cinna and I wanted you and Katniss to arrive together."

We excited the room and Portia led me through a few halls before we finally reached a closed door. Portia rapped on it a few times, then stepped back beside me. We only had to wait a moment before it swung open to reveal a grinning Cinna, who then stepped aside to show us a radiant Katniss. Literally, she was radiant. She was dressed in a floor length gown that was the exact color of my shirt and appeared to glow. I don't know how he accomplished it, but Cinna even managed to make it look as though the bottom caught fire anew every time she took a step.

"Wow," I breathed, unable to stop myself.

She gave me a small smile. "Wow yourself, boy-on-fire."

I shot her a toothy grin. "Oh no. Tonight, you're the only one wearing flames, girl-on-fire."

Katniss opened her mouth, a witty retort surely on the tip of her tongue, but Cinna interrupted her by clearing his throat. "We really hate to interrupt this," he laughed, "but we must be going."

Perhaps it was only the light reflecting off her dress, but I swear Katniss blushed scarlet.

Without another word we followed them down another hall, into an elevator, through another few halls, before we finally arrived in the area where they lined up all the tributes before we were to take the stage. Portia merely left me with a pat on my shoulder, while Cinna leaned down and whispered to Katniss something that once again left her cheeks rosy.

Once they were gone, it was only Katniss and I. Well, technically we were accompanied by twenty-two other tributes, all giving us death glares, but I chose to ignore them. "Katniss," I said. She turned toward me and I was momentarily stunned by the way she looked at me, eyes full of innocence and trust. The only other person to look at me that way was Rye. I cleared my throat and shook these thoughts from my mind. "Just remember the plan, okay?"

She nodded and faced forward, taking her place behind the titanic boy from District 11. The music played and we began to make our way in.

Like diligent little soldiers, we walked single file to the arc of seating that had been set for us behind Caesar's seat. Being the boy tribute from District 12, I took the last seat. With nothing else to look at, I couldn't stop myself from staring out at the see of people before us. And to think there are only millions more at home. I took a deep breath, trying not to let the panic resurface. I couldn't afford to think like that. Of course, this was easier said than done. I spent the playing of the anthem as well as the first few interviews distracted by my nerves. Then suddenly, in the middle of the male tribute from District 2's interview, I felt a small hand slip into mine.

I glanced at Katniss, eyes wide with surprise, but she was only looking ahead as if nothing had happened. Setting aside my pride momentarily, I gave her hand a grateful squeeze.

Though I paid attention for the rest of the interviews, they were overall fairly uneventful. Some of the tributes had clear angles they were playing up – the male from District 2, for example, was unsurprisingly playing up his strength and tough bravado – while others seemed to be barely holding it together. I could only pray that I would be a part of the former group. To his credit, however, Caesar did his best to help both sets of tributes shine, and he managed to end each interview with every tribute having at least one memorable moment.

Both at last and all too soon, it was Katniss' turn. Admittedly it was with some resistance that I released her hand, but I knew that I had to. I watched her make her way down the stairs and towards Caesar, doing much better in her heels than she had earlier today. All I could do now was hope our plan would work.

Caesar greeted her enthusiastically, marveling over her dress. "You District 12 coal miners, just can't get enough fire, can you?!" He laughed, and the audience joined in. Katniss could barely manage a nervous giggle.

Caesar gestured for her to sit and she obeyed. "Now, Katniss," Caesar began, as though he was about to ask her about the meaning of life. "What do you think of the Capitol so far?"

"Well," she began unsurely. Caesar gave her a nod. "It's very bright."

Caesar laughed, once again getting the audience to join in, despite the fact that what Katniss had said wasn't even that funny. "Bright? Is that so?"

Katniss smiled a bit. "Well, back home everything has a layer of coal dust over it, so I guess anything would be bright in comparison."

Caesar laughed once more, giving a few sounds of understanding. "I suppose it would be!" He asked her a few more questions about her life back home, and Katniss mostly responded in regards to her little sister, Prim. She had just begun to visibly relax when Caesar asked, "So Katniss, finally, the question that every guy in the capital has been wondering since your reaping: is there a special man in your life?"

Her shoulder's tensed, and I could see the panic raising in her chest. It only lasted a few second though, because she looked over Caesar's shoulder where all the other tributes and I were sitting. Somehow she found my eyes immediately, and I held her gaze, giving her what I hoped was a reassuring nod. It must have worked, at least to some degree, because she turned back to Caesar. "Well," her voice cracked a bit and she had to start again. "Well, no. Not unless you count my father, Caesar." She gave a small, uneasy laugh.

Caesar wasn't convinced. "Oh, come on now! A beautiful young girl like you, there must be someone back home rooting for you?"

If I hadn't been paying such close attention to her I may have missed it, but I just caught the quick glance she threw in my direction. When she looked back at Caesar, there was something different about the way she spoke to him. All her nerves were gone, and her voice held a much different note, something I couldn't quite place. "There is someone, but he's neither back home nor rooting for me, I'm sure."

Caesar looked genuinely taken aback. "That's ludicrous! How could he not root for the woman he loves, especially when she's as lovely as you?"

This time, when Katniss met my gaze over his shoulder, she held it, even as she spoke. "Tell me Caesar, would you root for the woman you loved if her winning meant your death?" She continued looking at me for another moment before turning back to a flabbergasted Caesar.

"Katniss," he said slowly, obviously trying to make sense of it all. "Are you saying that you and Peeta – " He was cut off by the buzzer before he could finish his thought.

Katniss had gone off script, but she had certainly done her job of hinting at a romance between us. The audience had erupted in mixtures of applause, surprise and complaints, but I was still focused on Katniss. The moment the buzzer went off, she leaped up and tried to make a run for it, but Caesar grabbed her arm and leaned down to whisper in her ear. He must have been too quiet for mics to pick up, so I have no idea what he told her, but whatever it was, it made Katniss look at him in shock before nodding and walking quickly towards me.

I leaped to my feet as well, knowing it was my turn. I walked quickly down the steps, meeting Katniss halfway. We locked eyes for a moment, and I saw a tear trailing down her cheek. She was crying?

Katniss moved to push past me, but before she could I grabbed her arm and spun her back toward me. I didn't think, I didn't hesitate – I just acted. Cupping her tear stained cheek in my palm, I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers. She stiffened in surprised under my touch, but before she even had a chance to react I pulled away and continued my walk towards the stage. If the audience had reacted wildly before, they were in hysterics now. I ignored it all as I walked toward Caesar.

I had no idea why I had just done that. I guess I had just gotten caught up in the act, and, I'll admit, I hated watching Katniss cry. But it was mostly that I had gotten caught up in the act, I'm sure. That's all any of it was anyway: an act.

Caesar barely greeted me before he got down to business. "Peeta Mellark of District 12," he announced. "I was going to ask you what you thought about what Katniss and I discussed during her interview, but I guess you just answered that question!" He gave a hearty laugh and the audience whooped and hollered. I couldn't help the blush that crept up my cheeks. "So we'll just cut right to the chase then," he continued. "Peeta, are you rooting for Katniss?"

I wasn't expecting him to be so forward about it; I was completely caught off guard, and it took me a bit longer to form a response than it should have. "Well, Caesar, that's – that's not easy to answer."

Caesar laughed. "What do you mean? You love the girl, don't you?"

Once again, I was caught off guard. "I – " my voice cracked. "Of course I love her." Something felt odd as I formed those words, but I plowed ahead anyway. "But it isn't that simple."

Caesar seemed much more genuine now, his voice quieter, tone softer. "What do you mean by that?"

I swallowed hard. Here goes nothing. "My brother – "

"The one you volunteered for at the Reaping?"

I was momentarily stunned that he had remembered that. Then again, I suppose it was his job to remember these things. "Yes. Rye." I paused, searching the group of tributes behind Caesar for Katniss. When I found her, she gave me a small nod, and it was enough to keep me going. I looked back to Caesar. "He's dying." Caesar looked like he was about to interject, but I kept going. "He has issues with his lungs. He has trouble breathing, and it's only getting worse. We get by on small homemade remedies from Katniss' family's apothecary shop, but they aren't enough to stop the inevitable, only slow it down. Rye is dying, and the only thing that can save him is medicine from the Capitol – medicine we can only dream of affording."

"But if you won the Hunger Games, you would have plenty of money to buy that medicine for him," Caesar stated, his voice uncharacteristically somber.

I nodded. "So you see, I need to win, Caesar. I need to win so that my brother won't die." I looked at Katniss once more. "But that doesn't mean I want to win."

Caesar placed a hand on my arm, regaining my focus. "I don't envy you, Peeta Mellark, and I wish you the best in the Games."

"Thank you," I said sincerely, just as the buzzer rang.

XXXX

Do buzzers ring? I have no idea. Anywhoooo... please let me know what you thought! I'm a bit worried about them getting too OOC here, so let me know what you thought. Plus, is this too cheesy? I'm such a cheesy romantic myself I have blurred vision on these things. Let me know in the reviews, and always feel free to pm me with any questions! I am done making promises about updates other than this: I WILL UPDATE. No matter how busy I am, I will finish this story. It may be slow going, and I am sorry for that, but this story will be finished. Thank you so much to everyone that has stuck with me, and as soon as I think of a way to repay you, I totally will.

Until next time,

YesIWriteForFun