Sterling's paws shook- he was going to be in front of the capitol again. All those eyes, judging and staring- not only the capitol, but all of Panem would see this. He'd already humiliated himself once- it couldn't get worse, right? Right? After the disaster that was the parade, his stylists had completely given up on him, leaving him to fend for himself. So, in some desperate attempt to look decent, he'd thrown on a black turtleneck, followed by a thin jacket- a light grey color, that sort of matched his fur. Then black leggings. He didn't want to stand out, but he also didn't want to look bad and humiliate himself. He gulped, chewing on his lip as the district one cats went up ahead of him. The clock ticked, cat after cat. He was only in district two, but it was still too long of a wait for him to bear. He messed with his fur, trying to make it look neat. There would be so many eyes on him. He was far from ready for all that attention. All that judgement. An orange striped she-cat excited the curtain- another tribute. Sterling tried to gauge what her face was like, in hopes that he might understand what had happened during her time out there, but she walked too fast for him to get a good look. "Sterling Bennet Hadrien, from district 2!" Sterling leapt up, all of his anxious energy making him jittery. That, or it might have been the coffee he drank before- the barista had looked at him weird when he'd ordered. Either way, it didn't matter. He pushed the curtains open with a shaky paw, and stepped out, the spotlight immediently blinding him. He blinked, glancing around, his eyes wide with fear and anxiety. 'There's the cat who fell of his boat at the parade'. He licked his lips anxiously, his eyes coming to the center of the stage. He stopped. It was a giant ball pit. A sign read- 'Fish a ball out, and open it- your question is inside.' Sterling's ears went back- of course. This was going to go terrible. He padded forward, his whole body shook. He dared not glance at the crowd, which was murmuring amongst themselves. "You-you'll have to forgive me...." His voice died, and he breathed in unsteadily, his chest tightening. "....I'm-I'm not good.....at-at this.." He gestured with his one paw. The crowd fell silent, watching him. Breathe. He gulped again, padding over to the ball pit, and sliding in. He was frozen, unsure of which one to grab. "I-I feel like, no matter which one I pick, someone's going to be d-disappointed.." The crowd chuckled softly- Sterling didn't know if that was a good thing, but he didn't want to find out. Shakily, he grabbed a silver ball- it's shiny outside having caught his attention. "This one....um- it must be special- why-why else would it be silver..?" He held it up, the audience watched him quietly, one or two of them letting out a laugh at how nervous he was. He opened it- a slip of paper fell out, falling below him. "Oh curse my bloody luck-" He said, before he could realize that might not be a good thing to say. He dove down into the balls, managing to retrieve the slip of paper. By now, the audience was chuckling at his antics. He cleared his throat, preparing to read it. They fell silent again. "Dear Mr. Sterling, w-what is the most you miss....about home?" Sterling paused. "N-No need...to be so....formal- whoever it is I'm-I'm talking to..." He trailed off, his eyebrows pressing together. The crowd was amused. Breathe. "Um..." To lie, or to be truthful? Either way, he was going to die in the arena, so it didn't matter. His eyes looked dull. "....I miss.....being able....to-to....pretend, that this-" He finally looked out the the crowd, his eyes watering. "that-that this.....was all ok. That I was.....safe. That I could....hide. Hide from all of this. I'm-I'm used to running- but I can't run anymore, because I'm cornered." He finished, blinking away tears that developed on his delicate eyelashes. Breathe. The cats were silent. "S-sorry..." Sterling trailed off, turning to the ball pit again. Hopefully this would be over soon. He shuffled around the ball pit, grabbing a ball that was a deep blue color, and opening it. He read it aloud. "I need advice....." Sterling stopped, his eyes going wide. "I-I may not be....the-the best cat for that...just uh, warning you lot." The audience let out a few chuckles. "...someone I've l-loved, for a very long time...is gone. There's no way to-to get her back, how do I cope?" Breathe. Sterling adjusted his glasses, his paws still shaking. He was silent for a second, just thinking- a look of pondering on his face. "Just....." His voice died. Breathe. "Just t-take it...one step at a time. Don't- don't look to far ahead....sometimes, that's too much to take. One step, just one, and you're already....already doing more than most.." Sterling stopped, he gulped, fumbling with his paws. He drew another ball towards him. Opening it. Breathe. "What is your favorite color..?" Sterling couldn't help but +
+ laugh at the simplicity of the question. The crowd joined him. "Purple. It-it's a happy color.." He nodded to himself, as if understanding something. He continued on. A purple ball- he held it up, earning a few whoops from the crowd, which he was surprised by. He licked his lips again- an anxious tick of his. "How did you....f-feel....after the parade?" Sterling's head seemed to jerk back at the question- as if gawking at the slip of paper. Didn't they already know? A silent annoyance that the humiliation had been mentioned rose up from the depths. "Just....bloody brilliant! No, I wasn't humiliated like one would think, it was just genius of me to fall off my sodding boat!" His voice was shrill. "Sarcasm." The audience laughed loudly, a few cheers earned from them. "MORE!" A cat shouted from the crowd- and Sterling's ears went back. "Jeez....just one more, because I-I am ready for this to be OVER." A few whoops from the crowd. Breathe. He picked the last ball up- it was pitch black. Opening it, this slip of paper was larger than the others. Sterling cleared his throat. "Brother...." His voice halted, recognizing Lucius's writing. He gulped. "How long do-do you think you'll last in the arena...? Because, I bet it was ten minutes...." Sterling paused again, not wanting to read farther, but the crowd murmured in a concerned nature, so he reluctantly continued. "Mother....disagrees with me, she says that you won't last five minutes." The crowd seemed to come into an angry roar, unhappy that they would say such a thing. Tears slipped down Sterling's small and delicate face. His body trembled as he tried to wipe them away, failing miserably. Breathe. "N-not......not-t long...." Was all he could say before he rushed off the stage.
