My fingers briefly slide on Nabil's jacket, as if trying to spin him around so he can face me. He does turn around and looks at me and can tell from my glare that I'm going to scold him. "Explain please," I say, trying to keep my calm. "What is there to explain?" Nabil says coldly. "What was all that s*** that you just said?" I say, my voice rising in anger. "Weren't we told to be genuine?" Nabil says. 'Emotionless.' I think, extremely irritated. "Umm yeah, 'singing and holograms aren't gonna fix anything'? 'I learned that after my private training session'?" I scoff. "How naive do you think I am? I don't believe that for a second." "You don't have to," Nabil responds. "The audience does." "I told him to say that." Finnick says from behind me. Nabil points to Finnick and I turn around. "Why, exactly?" I ask. "The audience will love it. If they see a lover's quarrel, they're gonna send you stuff so you can stay alive so they can see more of it," Finnick says. "Lover's quarrel? You realize we're just... allies, right?" I say, trying to clarify for him. "Whatever." Finnick says. "Why would they like a quarrel anyway?" I ask, annoyed. "They're just in it for the drama. Why do you think they watch the Games?" Finnick responds with a little laugh. "So we have to act like we hate each other in front of the cameras?" I say, already hating this whole idea. "Basically." Finnick responds. Ugh. Great. Wait. Why do I care? It'll just make it easier for me to kill him. I hate acting though. It's annoying. But whatever. I walk to my bedroom and change. I try so hard not to sob on my bed and create a pool of tears. Tribute Parade, Training, Interviews, over. Tomorrow we're going into the actual Games.
