Finnick Story part 14

It's when I close my door that I allow myself to let my shoulders slacken. The wait, the relief, the act, they've all taken their toll and now I am exhausted.
For the second time that day I fall onto the bed, but, this time, despite how tired I am, sleep won't come. Instead I keep seeing Klarad's overjoyed expression, hearing Renalda's excited chatter of tomorrow's interview, glimpsing the quiet and satisfied nod from Mags, and feeling the scorching hatred of Marine's eyes on by back.
Turning on the bed, I stare up at the ceiling. With each breath bringing me closer to the Arena, I don't know if sleep is possible. In two days I will see people die. I might even die. But I can't allow myself to think like that, not if I want to return home. There's another thing too. In two days, I am positive that Marine will hunt me down. She wants me dead first. I've out shone her in scores and, if she disliked me before, she hates me now.

I don't know when I fell asleep only that there is early daylight streaming through the window. Today is my first and last chance, really, to charm the people of the Capitol.
The shower pelts me with different fragrances until I finally manage to turn most of them off. All except one that I can't bring myself to turning off because it smells of home. It smells faintly of sea water, like on the days where the cool breeze brings it to the houses. I turn my face up to it, close my eyes, and imagine myself back outside my house.
Shaking myself free of memory, I turn the shut off the water and step out. By now I'm used to the high pressured warm air that dries my body and sopping hair. In minutes the only reminder of the shower is the faint smell.
I'm almost finished dressing when there's a knock on my door and Klarad's ritual; "Time to get ready ready ready!" running my hand through my hair once, I walk across the room, straightening my shirt, and open the door. Klarad is already across the hall, knocking on Marine's door. "Time to get ready ready ready!" he chirps merrily. Marine probably hates him just as much as she hates me.
Klarad turns and jumps, his eyes going quickly to their normal blank cheer. "Finnick! You're already up! Perfect perfect perfect! Head on downstairs cause we need to get a bite to eat before getting you both ready ready ready for the Interviews!" he squeals like a pig, jumping on the balls of his feet and clapping as he finishes his sentence.
I nod. "Thanks Klarad. Um, how long is it going to take to get us ready? The Parade didn't take that long and the interviews are until tonight."
He shakes his head boyishly. "No no no, it's not at all like the parade. Not at all! We have to get your pose, your character, teach you how to respond to certain questions!" he giggles, "not that you need to learn that stuff! People already love you! I mean, a scoring a ten at the age of fourteen! And you look like a victor! And so polite and charming!"
I smile. "Thank you, Klarad. I'll go down stairs, then, so I can eat before we start."
He nods eagerly and I turn, walk to the elevator and push the button. The doors open instantly, the empty elevator waiting. Stepping in, I wave to Klarad before pushing the button for the bottom floor. The doors snap shut and the ground beneath me rumbles. Staring at the ceiling, I give myself mere seconds to let my smile slacken, my muscles relax. After this, I will have to maintain my act until I go to sleep and, after that, until I either win or die in the Games. Even then, I'll have to keep up the act every time I'm on television, which, for the first year, will be a lot if I win. And I have to win.
Mags and Renalda are talking in low voices at the table when I get off the elevator. Mags, catching sight of me, jerks her head slightly, gesturing to the free chair next to her. It's time to be Finnick Odair the victor once more.
Throughout breakfast, Mags and Renalda tell me of past Interviews, of questions that Caesar Flickerman is bound to ask. It doesn't take them long to agree that I am golden on my answers and with, what Renalda calls 'my natural charm.' Each time they ask me a question, I tell them the truth. My act seems to almost take over and I laugh at what they claim to be the perfect places, elaborate just enough, smile just right. They excuse me to go with the Prep Team as Marine gets off the elevator. "We have a lot to go over with Marine. Her outfit's going to have heels and all, so we can show off her beautiful figure! Oh, I can wait!" Renalda says, clapping her hands. "Sader is a genius stylist!" I nod, smiling, stand, and walk to where the Prep Team waits.