They Lied
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.
Summary: Gloss' thoughts on what 'victory' really means.
A/N: This is my second attempt at HG fan fiction. The first one dealt with Gloss' only victor, a non-volunteer named Blaze. You don't have to read that one to understand this one, though
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They tell him that he won.
Well, he was the last tribute standing, so he supposes it's true.
He believes them at first.
He feels like a winner, like he'd earned his victory even though he limped toward the hovercraft ladder on a broken ankle.
He'd been training for this since he was seven and he passed his survival and image training at the top of his class.
When Gloss walks across the stage to Caesar at his final interview amid all the cheers and screams from the Capitol ladies, he almost forgets the 3 gruelling weeks he spent in the rain and the mud where the mutts screeched all through the night and disturbed everyone's sleep.
He's from District One…he loves his beauty sleep.
Contemplating a life of luxury and ease when he gets back home, it catches him off-guard when the President himself asks to see him the night before he's scheduled to leave.
He doesn't remember much of the meeting now, but he does remember finding himself back in his room, clutching a pretty envelope that smelled strongly of roses and death.
Gloss supposes that he should be grateful that his first appointment is a fairly pretty looking young Capitol woman who only wants to cuddle- her parents rented him out to her for her birthday-as opposed one of the clients that leave harsh, angry cuts and palm prints on the skin of his fellow One Victors.
(Incidentally, she's the most gentle of his clients. He actually spends the majority of his first year as victor patching himself up more than the others do. He cries in the shower after each appointment, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the physical pain his clients have inflicted.)
When Cash wins and the Capitol sickos come up with even new levels of depravity involving the both of them, Gloss knows he hasn't won at all.
When Blaze wins, he does everything in his power to keep him from the worst of it, and he mostly succeeds. (He almost has a heart attack the day Odair tells him that he and Blaze have a double appointment with one of Gloss' most abusive clients and spends the next hour convincing the man that he'd be a much better deal. Afterward, he's in a near catatonic state that it takes Cash a good four days to bring him out of.)
By the time the Quell announcement is made, he's glad. This time, he knows what he has to do to truly win, and so he pushes his Victor aside when his name is called and calls out "I volunteer!" with as much enthusiasm as if he's 18 again, excited and fully believing the lie.
(He feels Blaze's mournful gaze on him and refuses to look in his direction. If he looks at his only victor, he'll break down.)
He and Cash grin out at their district, smiles dazzling and hard just like the diamonds around their escort's neck.
Not many people get a chance to redo something they royally messed up, but they aren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
(He does accept the offer that Zenobia from Nine whispers in his ear after the chariot ride to keep Blaze safe and away from the sex trade as much as she can. Gloss may be ready to end it all, but that doesn't mean he isn't deeply invested in his Victor's safety, and of all the victors, Zen's the one with the most clout, given her connections. He only hopes it's enough.)
He's almost sorry he has to kill Wiress, but these are the Games, and what he wants doesn't matter; except it suddenly does when time slows for him in the brief moments between silencing Wiress and Katniss firing her arrow.
Gloss knows it's time, and he finally allows himself a split second of triumph before the world erupts in blinding pain and then goes dark.
He won.
Finally.
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A/N: Hey everyone, I hope you liked it. Constructive criticism is always welcome.