For anon…reader is a past victor as requested. Enjoy!
Y/N glanced around the massive stage as the bright lights nearly blinded them. They had yet to do their interview. The plan was to act superior to the Games. Y/N’s first Games was the opposite, be as quiet as possible. In their Game, it was to deter the other tributes from accurately estimating their skills.
Now, Y/N had to be seen as a tough competitor. There was no way they would survive as the shy child from a lowly district when the other tributes were fellow Victors. Y/N’s repertoire would be totally different with the show host: Caesar Flickerman.
Y/N wanted to hate him. They wanted their bones to be on fire from just glancing at him. They wanted to be angry for being part of the Games a second time. On stage seemed the best time to show that rage. However, Y/N couldn’t help but to think of his perspective. He was from the Capitol, never thought to disobey. To him, the Games were a necessary part of life.
Unfortunately, the other tributes didn’t care about the man’s perspective. At the moment, Y/N wished they didn’t either. Y/N just wanted to see him as a measly tool to keep ratings up. How were they supposed to act superior if their mind was trying to understand the other side?
8. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” 29. “Are you blushing?”
The pink haired man jumped when he turned on his lights. In the corner of his spacious living room stood you, a Victor. You arched a brow as he settled down just slightly.
“You scared me,” he commented. “Sorry,” you replied apathetically. “Well, what do you want? Money? Fame?” he paused, eyeing your outfit, “Fashion advice?” You knit your brows. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
Caesar eyed you for a moment. His mind de-aged you as he studied your appearance. You rolled your eyes.
“Maybe you remember this,” you paused, shifting into a more tight-laced version of yourself, “All I want is to survive.”
Your expression returned to normal as the lightbulb went off in his head. He outstretched a finger to you.
“Y/N! The 70th Hunger Games Victor,” he declared. “At least you remember names,” you mumbled. “My, you look so…different,” he commented, “Why are you here?” His face went white. “Are you here to kill me?” “Had I been reaped again, maybe,” you admitted with a smirk, “However, it’s quite the opposite. I was hired to bring you a message.” He arched a playful brow. “A message, hm?” You rolled your eyes. “The person who paid me was paid to do so. Therefore, I have no idea who this is from.” “So that’s why you snuck in here like the graceful minx I recall you to be.”
Your cheeks tinted just the slightest. You attempted to brush it off as you answered.
“Yes. That is why I…snuck in here.” He quirked a brow. “Are you blushing? No, wait. You never blush. You’re the Bull Victor. Of course, I’m the one that gave you that nickname.” “Do you want your message or not?” you interrupted. He smirked playfully. “When you’re ready.” “Then take it,” you told him, chucking the little cube at him. Caesar turned it in his hands. “It’s been opened.” You smirked. “Someone must’ve gotten a little curious about the Girl on Fire.”
Caesar narrowed his gaze just slightly. He glanced down at the box before turning back to you. However, you were no longer there. The host sighed before tightening his grip on the box. He ought to review the message in his room. He turned off his main lights before heading down the hall. The shadow he had thought left carefully followed after him, the Mockingjay shining slightly in the dim light.
<b>1.Caesar:</b> So how are you finding the Capitol?<p/><b>Gilderoy:</b> It's an odd sort of place isn't it? Do you live here?<p/><b>2.Katniss:</b> *fires arrow at Gamemakers* Thank you for your consideration<p/><b>Gilderoy:</b> If you don’t mind my saying it was pretty obvious what you were about to do and if i had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy<p/><b>3.Cato:</b> *gets shot in hand by Katniss*<p/><b>Gilderoy:</b> Not to worry! I shall fix that arm of yours straight away<p/><b>4.Finnick:</b> Got any secrets worth my time?<p/><b>Gilderoy:</b> For full details see my published works<p/><b>5. Effie:</b> Eyes bright.Chins up. Smiles on.<p/><b>Gilderoy:</b> Well I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at him<p/><b>6. Haymitch:</b> He's a peacock. A total preener.<p/><b>Gilderoy:</b> Celebrity is as celebrity does<p/></p>
Now, it’s just innumerable. I mean, go kiss someone for ten minutes. Come back and tell me how many kisses that was. With this and the broth kisses, our count is just freaking way off. Is it fair to say the Kiss Count is at 30?