Chapter One: The Queen

Full Summary:

Cato can't stand Glimmer. Glimmer thinks Clove is 'Gross, I mean, look at her hair!'. Clove says Cato is a blundering idiot. Clove hates Glimmer with every inch of her spirit and being. Cato believes Marvel is below him. Marvel has made it clear that he thinks each and every one of the other Careers is 'Psychotic, each in their own special way'. If any group of teens should be in a life-or-death situation together, it should not be these four classic Careers. But nevertheless, they are thrown into the 74th Hunger Games together, and, even worse, into an alliance. And just when they thought it couldn't get any worse, a seemingly sweet girl from District 4, Fiona, starts stirring up the drama, and no one knows whether or not to trust her. How will they survive when each is out to kill the other? Join Marvel, Glimmer, Cato, Clove, and Fiona as they travel a journey of adventure, tragedy, betrayal, secrets, romance, and drama, drama, drama!

Here it begins. The journey of the Careers of the 74th Hunger Games, each chapter from a different Career's POV, starting with each character's Reaping then moving on to their time in the Capitol, then finally, the Games.

And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, without further ado, please welcome...

Miss Glimmer Maybelline!

I don't know who is reading this, or why you would waste your free time reading, but I already know one thing about you:

I'm better than you.

Now, now, darlings, don't get upset. I know you're bawling your eyes out right now because you just long to be as gorgeous and smart and clever and pretty and awesome and gorgeous (did I mention gorgeous?) as me, but don't sweat it. I'm better than everyone. There's no need to, like, freak out.

I know exactly what you're thinking. After all, I am, like, a mind reader. You're thinking, How can I be as amazing as Glimmer Maybelline?

Well, guess what?

Sorry, dear! You can't.

See, the key to being as wonderful as me is to be perfect. You have to be pretty, sophisticated, smart, humble, pretty, and wise. Sure, you might be humble and wise, or pretty and sophisticated, or pretty and pretty, but no one can have all of those traits at once.

Except for me.

So here I am, in my luxurious plush king size bed, gazing up at my perfectly white-painted ceiling, reminiscing over how spectacular I am like I do every morning when I wake up.

Hee hee. Reminiscing. What a big word! See? Told you I'm smart!

I turn on my side and peek at the high-tech digital alarm clock, which, by the way, is imported all the way from District 3! Yes, I know you're amazed.

So on my high-tech-District-3-alarm-clock are some numbers: 9:00 - 9 o'clock!

The Reaping starts at 9:30, and for an event as big as this, I need at least two hours of beautifying, and even that's pushing it.

Not that I'm not perfect already. It's just that I want to use makeup to make me look less perfect so that no one will faint in jealousy.

I whip off my shiny satin sheets and leap out of bed, dashing to my bathroom. Pulling open all of the drawers rapidly, I grab all the essentials. Mascara, lipstick, lip liner, eye liner, eye shadow, moisturizer, hair curler, hair straightener, hair ties, face wipes…

I grab everything I need, filling up the entire counter space. Which is saying something.

After I quickly fix my eyes, face, lips, and hair to make myself look less perfect, I stop and stare into the mirror to survey my work.

Ah, yes, you did it again, Glimmer, I tell myself. You're so amazing that you can make yourself look less perfect within fifteen minutes.

My emerald eyes are dramatically lined with elegant mascara, heavily lidded with light purple. My face is smooth and creamy without one blemish, and my lips are so perfect that every boy who passes me will want to kiss them immediately.

Not that they don't already.

I dive into my closet and carefully select a strapless dark purple dress that is low cut enough for my wonderful taste. I strip quickly and slide into the dress, zip it up, then turn to my full-length mirror.

One word. Perfect.

The reason I chose purple is because I want to look mysterious. And purple is a mysterious color. And mysterious is the angle I want to go for in the arena.

Oh, did I mention I'm going to volunteer? No, I won't be just a tribute. I'm going to be a Victor. I've been training since I was eight, and I'm like the best in District 1. I've got everything – the looks, the body, the attitude, the skill – and now all I need is the opportunity.

I gaze at myself in the mirror, striking a provocative pose and grinning. Oh yes, as soon as I open my door, a giant pack of boys will begin following me around, begging me to be their girlfriend. Well actually, that happens every day. It's just that the pack will be twice as big today, because it's a well-known fact that I'm going to volunteer. Like, the entire district is talking about it.

Opening the door, I step outside my room and into the perfectly polished hallway. I ride the elevator –yes, we have an elevator – down to the first floor, where the dining room is. The gleaming silver doors slide open, and I stride out into the elaborately decorated dining room.

"Hello, Glimmer," my mother says. Mum used to be almost as pretty as me when she was my age, but now her face has been marred with oldness. Like, she has a wrinkle. A wrinkle! Seriously, people these days...

She lounges in a plush chair, finishing off a plate of pancakes. Mum looks me up and down, frowning slightly.

One of the many wonderful things about Mum is that she is easy to manipulate. Like, I can get whatever I want. Allow me to demonstrate...

"You look gorgeous, sweetie," she says tentatively. "Your dress is a bit too low cut, though. You can see almost everything there!"

I roll my eyes. Mum can be so uptight sometimes.

"Yeah, but that's how I operate! You should know that after seventeen years of knowing me! Please Mummy? I'll win the Games if you let me wear it!"

Mum smiles warmly. "You have a point. Alright, wear the dress, it looks beautiful on you!"

I giggle, flipping my blonde ringlets. That is how you manipulate your mother. Honestly, it's just too easy! Besides, I would win the Games even without the tiny dress.

My stomach begins to growl. I march over to the kitchen area and find Mina frying some bacon. I snap my fingers twice. "Mina, I need bacon. Pronto. The Reaping is in ten minutes!"

Mina nods, tossing some onto a china plate with a spatula. I'm about to say thank you, but I forget every time – don't say thank you to Avoxes. I'm so much better than them.

Yes, Mina is our Avox. Ever wonder why we're so rich that we have elevators and satin and Avoxes? Well, just take a look at my last name. Maybelline.

Long before the Dark Days, there was this amazing French makeup company called Maybelline. The owners of Maybelline are my ancestors. It fell apart after the big flood, but since the Capitol loves my family so much, they let my Grandfather reopen it. So my dad is the CEO of Maybelline, and the Capitol buys like everything from there, therefore making us loads of money. He's in the Capitol right now. We visit him every summer.

I shove the crispy bacon into my mouth and set the plate down in front of Mina. Then, with a quick goodbye to my mother, I head out the door and onto the sidewalk.

A group of four girls who are almost as perfect as me immediately rush up to me, gossiping and jabbering about how amazing I am. I grin, because they are absolutely right. Tuning out the gossip, I turn and spot at least fifteen guys of varying degrees of hotness running to our group, their eyes directly set on me. When they reach us, they fill my brain with the usual gossip and proposals and such. I keep on walking, and the group follows me, chattering mindlessly. Other girls who aren't good enough to be in my pack glare at us, definitely out of envy.

Yes, that's right. There is no denying that I am the most popular girl in District 1. And there is nothing anyone can do about it, not even me. It's not like I can control my hotness.

We reach the square, and the Peacekeeper there pricks my finger and waves me on. I glance behind me, and I notice that the Peacekeeper stares at me with longing. I smirk and toss my curls, then walk to the seventeen year old section. I gaze ahead at the stage, ignoring all the people who have turned around and stared jabbering. This is finally my day, my time, I will finally become a Victor and go to the Capitol where I belong, among the rich and the stylish and...

The bespectacled Mayor steps up to the podium, and everyone quiets down. I scowl in distaste. Her long brown hair is so out of style. Shouldn't the Mayor of all people know the trends? One day, when I'm Victor, I'll become the Mayor and I will make sure everyone is gorgeous, but not as hot as me.

My attention is immediately lost as she goes on and on about the Dark Days and all that unimportant crap. I turn my attention to the chairs where the Victors sit.

We have so many Victors, you can barely count them. I spot Gloss, and he winks at me. Gloss is the only man in District 1 who deserves to have someone as hot as me on their arm. Which is why he's my boyfriend. He runs his fingers through his white-blonde hair, smiling. He knows my big moment is coming, he's proud of me.

What makes me angry is that Gloss isn't mentoring this year. However, Cashmere, his twin and also a Victor, is mentoring. I hate to admit it, but her popularity and looks rival mine. Well, she's twenty-two. You look prettiest when you're in your twenties. And I'm only eighteen.

I tap my foot, my body shaking with adrenaline. Come on, any time now...

Our escort Natalie, a lady with hot pink hair and a sparkling pink dress bursts to the podium as soon as the ugly Mayor steps down.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

The crowd screams and claps deafeningly. Being one of the more civilized districts, we treat the Hunger Games like a celebration. Because it is. The Hunger Games is what I was born and bred for.

"It is such an honor to be here in the best district in the nation! And now, District One, we will present the male tribute!"

She walks over to the Reaping bowls, filled with thousands of slips. The crowd takes a large breath. Well, it's not like the Reaping matters anyway. Someone volunteers every time.

Natalie fingers through the slips and pulls one out.

"Eth-"

"I VOLUNTEER!"

A guy runs to the stage, his brown hair falling in his face. I know that guy. He's one of the street rats. How could he possibly be a Career? That pathetic mess could never afford to go to the Academy. I can't quite lay a finger on his name...

Natalie grins. "Ah, yes! A Volunteer! Tell me, what is your name?"

"Marvel Tomlinson," he says quickly into the microphone.

Ah, that's it. Marvel. I scan him up and down. He's pretty muscular, but when it comes to hotness, he's only average. Nothing special. Unlike most Careers that volunteer, he looks kind of nervous. I can tell he's trying to hide it though. I can tell everything.

"Congratulations Marvel!" The crowd offers moderate applause. He's not that popular, I'd know if he was.

"And now, the female tribute is..."

"I VOLUNTEER!"

A million girls scream that and rush forward. My lips curl into a snarl. Oh, no you don't. Everyone knows I'm volunteering; they have no right to even consider it. I won the Career trials, so I get to volunteer.

I calmly step out into the aisle and clear my throat loudly. They freeze, then reluctantly back up, scowling, because they know that I won the trials fair and square.

I nod approvingly. I'm their idol, they would never make me mad. "That's right. My name is Glimmer Maybelline, and I volunteer as tribute for the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games." I walk up to the stage, victory welling up inside of me. I did it. I volunteered! Now all of Panem will know my name, admire me, adore me.

Natalie grins even wider. "Wonderful!"

I move toward Marvel to shake his hand, still glowing with glee. I grasp it and stare into his amber eyes. "It will be an honor to compete against you," I whisper, my voice taking on a seductive tone. Marvel scrutinizes me, suspicious. "You too," he says slowly. We release each other's grasp, then Natalie moves to hold up our hands.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Marvel Tomlinson and Glimmer Maybelline!"

The crowd erupts in one big unanimous scream. "GLIMMER! GLIMMER!" They chant. I beam wider than I ever have in my life. I did this. They love me. I will win!

Marvel and I are ushered off the stage and into separate plush rooms.

I run my fingers along the velvet couch. Nothing I haven't seen before. Our house is practically made of velvet.

Gloss walks in. "Hey, Sexy," he greets, his white teeth shining. I stand up. "Hey Almost-as-Sexy," I reply. Gloss laughs.

"Well thank you! I just want you to know, I'm really proud of you. I knew you could volunteer. I'm so sorry I couldn't mentor this year, I've mentored three years in a row so they won't let me this time."

I wrap my arms around his neck and flash a simpering smile. "Aw, don't worry baby!" I coo.

"Well, I've got a surprise for you," he disentangles himself from me and bends down.

"Um...Gloss? What are you..."

His smile grows even wider. He gets down on one knee and pulls something out of his pocket.

"Glimmer...when you come back...can I be yours?"

He pops open the box, revealing a diamond ring. That's when I process what he's doing.

I gasp, speechless. I'm getting married...I'm actually getting married...

I squeal and throw myself into his arms. I'm getting married, I'm getting married, I'm coming back, and I'm getting married...

Gloss smashes his lips against mine and kisses me passionately. I savor his warmth, knowing I'll be without him for a few weeks.

"Time's up!" I hear behind me.

Gloss gently pulls back and slides the ring onto my finger.

"If you're fighting and are about to die, twist the diamond," he whispers quickly in my ear. I nod, wondering what it does. "I love you."

And then he's gone.

But not for long, I remind myself.

Because I'm coming back. No matter what it takes.