Interviews Hunger Games Novels & Stories

She arrives at the mansion with a photographer, a recorder and a list of questions that Damon's team has already properly vetted. We do the interview in the garden, surrounded by Mike's roses. It's strategic, the setting suggests warmth, domesticity, the kind of comfortable life that readers will want to believe in. "Tell me about yourself," Moira begins. "Before Damon. Who was Millicent Andrews?" I tell a version of the truth. Parts of the whole. Bits, not so much, not so little. A method of playing safe. I talk about growing up without much money, about discovering photography as a teenager, about building a business from nothing.

I got home and changed in a tank top and shorts ,picked up a bag of chips and went to the living room, turned on the television but a comedy that I have watched more than once was showing,I ended up taking a nap and waking up only when Emily came back home . "How was your interview?" she asked me ."terrible" I replied while sitting on kitchen counter."what happened ? "she asked so I told her what happened and she burst out laughing ," so u couldn't answer a question because the man was handsome ?" it is not like that you know I mumbled ."so what was it?" she asked me while smiling.w wel well I was just intimidated

I need to ace this interview. *** I sigh as I plop down on my couch. I don’t have any idea of how the interview has gone. I couldn’t read the woman interviewer at all. The only high point was when I got a glimpse of the Dean when the interviewer had to step out for a second. I don’t know why, but my heart began to race while a smile spread across my face. Noah comes out of the kitchen with a couple bottles of water in his hands and walks towards me. “If you were feeling better, we would be celebrating your interview with beer, but since you still aren’t back to normal, water will have to do.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Can I help you?” she asked, tone already saying no, I don’t want to. “Elena Reed,” I said, forcing a polite smile. “I’m here for the interview with Mr. Blackthorne.” Her smile sharpened. “Interviews were scheduled for nine sharp.” I blinked. “It’s 9:30.” She typed something, way too slow. “Yes,” she said finally, with fake sympathy. “The interviews are now closed. Mr. Blackthorne has already selected his final candidates.”

Rissa took small steps closer as she was at a loss for words. Adrian gave her an encouraging nod, which signifies his agreement to the interview alongside Liam Hickson. “I must say, Mr Grey, Mr Hickson, I am honoured to be granted this opportunity”, the interviewer said pleasantly. A wide smile rewarded his word and Rissa sat down close to Adrian. Her eyes kept travelling in between the two powerful men she found herself around. “Mr Kentucky, I hope the filming hasn't commenced yet”, Liam said enthusiastically pointing towards the camera.

That now made her outfit look official. The interview started immediately after the clock struck 9:00 am. The first interview did not take long and the interviewee, came out looking like she was about to cry. Okay, that did not look promising. She was a beautiful girl, well dressed, the only thing was that she looked too polite. The rest of the interviews did not hold any suspense. Some people came out smiling while others came out frowning. All in all, she could feel her nerves increasing as the line decreased. The Black Company was one of the best companies that searched for talent among writers of every kind. Mostly novel writers and scriptwriters.

I sipped my coffee quietly from the kitchen island, watching him like he was a storm cloud in designer fabric. The system ghost whispered faintly. “Observation: CEO irritation levels rising.” Dream’s eyes flicked toward the air. “Do not,” he warned the invisible voice. The system ghost sounded amused. “Noted.” I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. Dream ended the call with a sharp tap, then turned toward me. “They want interviews,” he said, like the words personally offended him. I blinked innocently. “Interviews are normal.” “Not when they’re asking questions like, ‘How did it feel to almost die, Mr. Dream?’”

"Mr. Maddox, did anyone catch your eye?" Huck's magnetic voice came through the Bluetooth earpiece. "What do you think?" The male interviewer frowned slightly. "I don't think anyone in this batch meets our standards. Even their physical condition isn't particularly good." Huck chuckled softly. "I want candidates number 8, 12, and 14. Notify them and take them for health checks in an hour." The interviewer, Clyton Farman, nodded firmly. "Yes, Mr. Maddox." He walked out of the conference room and addressed the waiting candidates. "Everyone can leave now. We'll text you if you pass the interview."

Feeling too dumbstruck to keep rewatching the same portion, I let the interview continue. The interviewer excitedly asks a few more questions. She asks if he’s finally found his fated mate, and quickly follows up by asking what werewolf pack they belong to. To my relief, Aiden politely declines to answer. The interview comes to a close and I drop my phone on the desk.

I groan inwardly again knowing that people will remember me as the girl in coveralls with dirt all over her coming to a prestigious office like Styles Enterprises. Later, after an hour or two, I think I finished every game that I have on my phone waiting for Ben to finish from his board meeting. But as a reporter, I need to keep in mind that I need to have more patience upon interviewing this kind of high profiled person because I'm just starting and I'm already tasked to write an article about England's sweet darling of a manwhore. I should feel more privileged to be doing this, to be interviewing Benedict Styles. I'm already starving and my stomach's already hurting. It needs foods. My mou