"Hearst of District 7!" As soon as Clover walked off the stage, Hearst found himself warm under the spotlight. His mind raced with more questions than answers. Questions about some strange new rival... questions about his beloved's love for him and for this chatacter... Chlorophyll. Who was Chlorophyll? He'd never heard of her before the Games. Though Hearst couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that Clover could charm anyone in the world if she wanted to. He couldn't blame Chlorophyll for falling for the same smile he'd fallen in love with. Never mind all of that... nonsense. Hearst sat down, smiling at the audience in greeting, then turned back to the interviewer with a flourish and a sweep of his thick, luxurious tail. The interviewer, Ellema, the curly-furred, bespectacled beauty with mirthful eyes and a iridescent rainbow halo, looked up at him with a smile; he had heard what Clover had said about him just seconds ago. The mysteries behind their relationship were tantalizing, undeniable. "Well, well.. Hearst, we have a lot to discuss, now don't we?" she said with a warm smile, moving her gold-rimmed glasses up against the bridge of his nose. The glass seemed fake- given the strange and obscure reflection. Perhaps it was just a style of capitol fashion these days, a new shade of the same performative color. Hearst couldn't judge. It took one to know one, after all. At this blinding moment, the russet-furred cat was performative too, if not more performative. "Yes," Hearst said, blinking his teary, teal eyes at the crowd. It was all to his benefit and hers. "More than I can say. I.. it seems that my secret love has been revealed." "Well? Was what Clover said true?" Ellema asked, tone faux-gentle. "All of it," Hearst lamented, completely genuine now. "We'd broken up a day before the games and.. well.. I came in here with a broken heart and nothing to live for but my everlasting love." The crowd below gasped in unison, and from the corner of Hearst's steely gaze, he saw a group of adolescents blushing and giggling, gushing over his reaction as if it were horribly romantic. It was. At least to Hearst, it was. "Oh, hoho, that changes things! Tell me about your confession. Tell the world!" Ellema's brilliant white teeth gleamed as she inched closer. "Why'd you break up? What happened? You /volunteered/ as tribute after all - why in Panem would you want to be reaped together with Clover in the first place?" And so began the waterworks. "I made a terrible mistake. She was upset, and I didn't comfort her the right way. A-and I actually volunteered because... I didn't want my sunshine to be separated from me for a second- and.. and if the breakup was my last memory..." Hearst trailed off, voice breaking like the fragments of a glass bowl. Hearst looked up, eyes teary and remorseful. Not only was he looking at the crowd, he was looking at Clover. She'd be watching through the screen. "I... I'd never forgive myself. I had to protect her. I /have/ to protect her. I'd do anything to earn another chance, earn redemption. Whatever it takes. Even if it meant... you know..." Dying. It was a crafty response; another round of gasps rippled through the audience. Some cats had already begun to sob. "What did it feel like to choose her ribbon over the balloon in your Gamemakers?" Choked up by a halfway sort of emotion, Hearst swallowed his crocodile tears. "It was the easiest choice in the world," he said firmly. "It was a keepsake that I'd given to Clover a long time ago. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let it go so pitifully?" He continued, predicting the question on the tip of the interviewer's tongue. "Likewise, if I had to face her in battle, I'd lay down my life for her right away. I'll die for her, simple as that- I've been slain by her more than once, anyway... the moment Clo stole my heart... and the day she broke it." "And if she died?" Ellema asked, taking off her glasses to wipe away a stray tear. "Then, I die as well," voiced Hearst, almost too quickly. It was a truthful answer that would rouse sympathy and raise the stakes. Hearst hoped he could charm the more sympathetic and romantic capitol cats out there with his earnest lament. "Well, well, well! How romantic. But you have a rival. What do you feel about the new enigma in Clover's life... Chlorophyll?" The room went still. The spotlight was completely, irrevocably on him now. Hearst's face went pitch dark. He sat silently for a few seconds before looking back up with the same smile - just a twinge more eerie now. A trick of the light, or maybe not, his eyes looked downright sinister. "She's a fool for trying to come in between us, then," Hearst said, grinning still with narrowed eyes. Simmering, like too much oil on a pan, his voice had changed to something lower in pitch, darker. "A bug in a web too sticky for her own sake." (cont.)
(cont.) The room hung for a second, suspended in suspension. Silent. Uncomfortably silent, no creak louder than a baby's breath. Then, the lights came back on and the room began to breathe once more, murmuring in excitement, as if nothing had happened- nothing and everything all at once. "Wooo, it's gotten hot in here!" the haloed interviewer chuckled nervously. The crowd erupted in cheers, and some threw roses. "Get yourself a boyfriend who'd die in the hunger games for you, like this guy, and you'll never doubt his love for you! That's Hearst from District 7, folks! --- Walking out of the room, Hearst wanted to laugh at the irony. He came onto the stage thinking he'd be performative... ...but as he walked out, he knew that /nothing/ he said was a lie.
