Over and Over: The 32nd Hunger Games SYOT

Chapter 22

Seutonius Cathode POV

The Capitol loved my new walking stick-mounted microphone with its glittery luster and its diamond topper. If only they knew how much I needed it. I staggered to my seat and waved with all the enthusiasm I could fake to replace what used to come so easily. I love these children. I love them all, and there have been so many. I've outlived dozens on dozens, and my heart is failing.

"I'm hoping the Arena is a diamond mine. Then I'll clean up. I also might win," Priscilla said. Would she still joke after she saw what she'd been training for? I shuddered when I saw Rapture. He looked so much like his sister and said so many of the same things.

Were they even teaching interview skills at the Academy? Margo's perfect sass and charm weren't natural, but only someone like me would know that. Her words matched her stylish silver dress and curled hair, but not her heart. I could tell she was fierce and driven, and I also knew from her measured words that she was kinder than she wanted anyone to know. She talked of winning, not slaying. Alex talked of nothing but his sister, and before long I felt like I knew Dawn.

Wyatt's suit was covered in crossing navy wires. He said he felt like a human hard drive, and that set him off. Before long he had me laughing so much it hurt. I let him run the interview and coughed into my glitter-monogrammed handkerchief.

"I guess I'll just try my hardest and stay away from the Careers," Emmeline said. She kicked her legs lightly and showed off the red heels so plainly meant to highlight her fragility. I've seen all the strategies, and I know when someone's playing dumb. Sometimes it works, and I hoped I'd see her again.

"Good heavens, what happened to your stylist?" I asked when I saw Whyte shirtless with baggy jeans and mussed hair. He shrugged.

"I forgot it was interview day. Boy, were they mad when I showed up ten minutes ago," he said. It was hard to keep up with him, and I found myself doing what so many of my interviewees doing: smiling and nodding.

"We will take care of each other because that's our job... to take care of the dumb sibling," he said in closing, referring, I assume, to Vera.

"Any favorite weapons?" I asked Vera. I noted with some amusement that her stylists, wanting to keep the theme of matching her with her partner, had rumpled her hair but neglected to send her out shirtless.

"I couldn't decide, so I use bows, tridents, bayonets, and katanas. I'm not really an expert in any of them, but I'm pretty good," she said. She looked offstage with apprehension after that last statement, as if already hearing her mentor chiding her for being so frank.

"Oh, you're just being modest," I said. "I know you could kill me ten times before I noticed."

I had to squint before I recognized Adair. Every year the Tributes blur together more and more.

"So nice to meet-" I started. Suddenly the boy's black suit changed color and turned pink with white marbling. "What was that?" I asked. Adair fidgeted.

"It's my outfit. My stylist said it would-" just as quickly his suit was brown and textured like fine mahogany. We were careful what we said after that, and I concluded by wishing him luck in winning the gold.

I could see a million Skies in her jewel-studded dress.

"Here's Five's first volunteer!" I greeted her. "Care to tell us why you're so bold?"

"I have a plan," Sky said calmly. "It will be spectacular. You'll want me around to see it." Well said. She'll never want for sponsors.

Hermes was such a sad boy. He was honest and frank with his answers, and he knew his chances as well as I did. Nothing, though, could prepare me for Yasmine. She couldn't say a word she was crying so hard. My nerve broke and I faked a cough to hide the fact that I was crying with her. A showman's worst nightmare, dead airspace, reigned for a moment as I tried to regain my voice. My chest hitched and I gasped for breath as I pressed on.

Allen seemed like a very nice young man. Pity he was about to die. He seemed even nicer after I met Myrtle.

"Once I get back, the Capitol will finally have some brains," she said after outlining how she was going to win.

"I hope you do," I said. It didn't matter if she was rude. I didn't wish her any pain. She looked at me in surprise and seemed ashamed.

"Well... thanks. Look me up next time you're in town," she said. She smiled at me as she left, and I wished it would stay forever.

Haber didn't seem to like me very much. She glared at me all the while she walked to her seat. I'd barely said hello when she launched herself at me and knocked my chair over backward. She grabbed at my throat and I could only try to crawl away until some attendants dragged her off. I could only wonder how more Tributes hadn't had that reaction. It seemed like Ryker didn't answer my questions, but that might have been just my memory acting up. I was a little disoriented from the attack.

I was a little nervous when I saw how big Barley was, but he was as sweet as pie. He talked about his alliance with Sky and was as sunny as his yellow plaid shirt. Dominique's orange dress followed nicely.

"Thanks for having me," she said before she left. "It was lovely talking with you." That girl was raised right. More than I can say for those in the Capitol.

"I know I can win. It won't be hard to kill the others," Castiel said. It made me shudder. I understood even if I pitied the Career children. They were taught to act how they did. It wasn't that way in Ten, and Castiel's coldness was sinister and alien.

Serena was hesitant. "Let us hear that pretty voice," I coaxed.

"It's n-nice to meet you," she ventured. A few people laughed, and she blushed. So that's it. Would they laugh all the way along at the little freak from Ten? What wonderful things did she have to tell us if we ever gave her the chance? Victor or not, we'd never know.

The stage grew cold, and I shivered through the last few interviews.

"Oh, just like Peppermint Wilson?" I asked when Pepper introduced herself.

"Yeah, it'll save time when people list the Victors from Eleven," she joked. All at once the stage seemed blisteringly hot. Vertigo gripped me and I leaned on my cane to stay upright. I was so tired I couldn't bear to think there were two more interviews.

"Any reason you wear a jay pin?" I teased Jay. I tried to laugh along with him, but my voice was raw from so much talking. I was aware of how long it took a team of stylists to make me presentable, and I wondered how evident it was.

"I don't have any illusions. I know getting food will be as difficult as avoiding the others, and I plan to take no risks," Elara said. Perhaps she'd be Twelve's first Victor. I could hardly muster up any more enthusiasm. It was getting hard to breathe, and I wanted to pitch over onto the stage.

As I said my concluding remarks, I lingered a moment on the stage. There were so many ghosts here, and I'd already seen twenty-three more. Would they always be there, the killers and the killed at peace and together? Hailey, Nairobi, Belisarius, Calvary... all of them. Would one of them be missing if I'd said something different? I wondered if I'd be allowed to join them, and I knew it might be soon. I laid my cane down on my chair and held my hands out.

"Goodbye, everyone. All my love, and you'll always be with me."

A fond and mournful farewell to our own Seutonius Cathode. Sharp-eyed readers will have noticed his declining health and enthusiasm the last few years. He's both too old and too weary to come back, so next story will have a new interviewer. I made Seutonius up as a one-time character for my first Hunger Games story and ended up liking him more than I ever planned. I'm sorry to see him go, but he will enjoy a long and restful retirement and will be remembered by every Victor he encouraged and aided.