What's the point in gloves with holes in them? Lovey didn't pick this outfit himself or for themself. The only thing they had a say in was the heart sunglasses, they weren't perfect but close. Close enough. Did they leave the perfect ones in the arena to rot? The rest, was styled around those glasses. The shiny suit with gold strikes across it. The lightning necklace. The beaded bracelet. They were probably allergic to some kind of metal, the stylilsts should've checked with them about this. Oh well. Lovey hadn't been allowed to do much since gamemakers. The long-sleeved button-up and gloves pairing seemed to be some sort of attempt to disguise the cast on their arm. The gamemakers would probably take the cast off, regardless of anything, in the arena as some sort of cover-up. Cover-ups. How many of those were there last games? Birdie was never so quiet as in the parade or arena. They'd hardly showed her at all. Her interview had been completely cut from screen too; she'd been absent. She was a fervent Capitol hater and never knew how to keep that dang mouth shut. Would they cut Lovey's interview after this? Black stuff out? They didn't care. Well- they cared a little, getting into the Capitol's poor graces right before the arena was a terrible idea, but Lovey had long come to the conclusion of their upcoming fate. The audience Lovey cares about would hear this, if no one else. The screen projected nervous or fauxly confident cats talking with one of the many pretentious capitol cats. They've chosen to stick with one interviewer this year. Odd choice. The other tributes on stage would flick their ears or occassionally make a surprised or annoyed face. Unusual for interviews, especially for careers. It couldn't possibly mean anything though. But then Lovey was sent to the stage. They swallowed and forced confidence. It was so much easier to be confident when the outcome was guaranteed. Guaranteed bad, yes, but at least they weren't trying to avoid it. Lovey didn't say anything. They didn't wave. They didn't smile. They just stood in front of their chair, their ears flat as they stared at the camera. The interviewer introduced herself. Ellema-something. She probably offered to shake Lovey's hand but they didn't see it and, by default, ignored it. "You should have a seat. These interviews won't be so bad, no need to be stressed!" Ellema assured, but Lovey just cast her a side-eyed glare. They needed to say something before nerves won out, and they knew that'd come quicker if they sat on that dirty couch that everyone's been sitting on all day too. "There was a tribute here last year," Lovey looked back at the camera. "She was my...friend. Why take me? The year after." The words began to spill, different and more emotional than planned, "Will this hit the screen? Will you treat me the same as her? She did nothing! Nothing! And I did even less! What's the *problem?* What's your *issue?* You punish kids that've done nothing wrong! We get it-- We---" An alarm screeched in Lovey's ear and they screamed, stumbling back. It didn't stop. It wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? Just the moment they got confident for a minute and thought they knew what'd happen. They gave a pained whimper, flicking their ear and rubbing their bad paw (in order not to put weight on the good one) over it in a desperate attempt to turn whatever-it-was off and relieve the pain. It did nothing. He heard nothing. It was a whole minute or two after Lovey finally started hyperventiliating that the screeching quieted. It didn't stop, and it still hurt so bad but not as bad, and he could hear now. He sat down, more worried about calming himself than about the germs, and it was too loud to think anyways. "Birdie, huh?" Ellema spoke as if nothing was happening. Lovey gave her begging, teary, eyes to turn the sound off, feeling as if they were going insane. She tilted her head but continued, "...It's my understanding that you were friends? What's that been like? I imagine there's been some complicated feelings." No. No. Don't ask about Birdie. Not like this. Lovey kept themself quiet, refusing to answer. It didn't help. It just made it louder again. Why did it make it louder? They quickly rushed to answer. "Y-yeah! It's been hard! I just feel like I'm going crazy! I-I'm sorry! I just say things I don't mean---because I'm grieving!!" The siren finally quieted enough for Lovey to breathe. They exhaled and wiped away any tears that'd fallen in the midst of all that. "How did you meet?" Ellema asked, eyes bright with interest. "Uh- I don't know. When we were kids. I don't really remember." Lovey mumbled. "Do you have any other friends at home?" Ellema prompted. Lovey felt his heart rate quicken once again. "No!" He rushed out, "No one! It was just us!" Lovey heard the faint threat of the siren again "I-I mean there's one other cat." A little louder.
"Okay! It- It was a whole group of us! There was Becc, and Amias, and Arley and August too!" The siren quieted again. How much did the capitol know about them? Lovey was shaking now. "Similar names," Ellema noted, "I hope you never felt left out." "Of course not." "What sorts of things did you like to do?" "I don't know." Lovey whispered. "Exploring. Exploring home. That's it." They half-expected the siren to go off again, but it didn't. That confirmed it was just capitol operated and not a lie-detector. And that the capitol either didn't know about their escapades or didn't want them public. Was that why Birdie and Lovey had both been here? They weren't harming anyone. "Oooo!" Ellema grinned, "That sounds so fun! I hope you've had friends to explore the training center with!" Lovey sunk into themself, "No," They mumbled, "Not really." That made her frown, "Really? No allies at all?" Lovey huffed. It wasn't fair. Everyone's watching. This was going to make them a target, and make their friends at home just pity them. But they'd rather that over more noise in their ear. "No." "I'm sorry to hear that." Ellema looked solemn for once this interview, "Hopefully you make some in time! Maybe you'll have some luck with Tribute Prom." Lovey gave a doubtful nod. "You still have some useful skills, right?" Ellema prompted. Lovey sunk more, "No." "You got more than a half score in gamemakers," She prompted. "I don't understand why. I messed it up. I messed it all up." They mumbled back and closed their eyes tight shut. They wanted to go home. They wanted to be home and they wanted Birdie alive and they wanted to plan new adventures with their friends in the summer and they wanted everything to be like normal again. Why can't everything be normal again? All this was was a humiliation ritual. Stupid and dumb. Worse than that. It *wasn't fair.* "I don't want to upset you," Ellema assured. Probably playing benefactor for the sake of the Capitol and their stupid propaganda. That's not what Lovey wanted. "Are you okay?" "Can I leave?" Lovey whispered. She looked taken aback, surprised. Lovey was shocked she even cared that much. The second they got an ounce of permission, they just ran off. They'd go cry in the bathroom, and eventually their room, like the coward they were. The amount of power a simple siren Lovey hadn't even noticed at first had. It was a harsh---no, shocking in it's simplicity and lack of harshness---reminder of who was in control here, and it was far from Lovey. It went off a couple more times to try to push Lovey back out there but he couldn't. It was too much. They had to go to the bathroom, not just to cry, to throw up too. It was all over for them, and they just wasted their opportunity to have an ounce of a chance.
