Glimmer Rambin, aged 17

Beauty is deadly.

Ever since she stepped foot in District 1's Academy, that was the saying constantly drilled into Glimmer. Elegance is deceiving. Grace has a dark side. And for the most luxurious district, the one that specializes in beauty, they take this truth to the heart.

The little girls are allowed to train with their preferred weapons, but there are also small lessons that teach them the art of being sultry and suggesting. How to innocently cock your head to hide the killer that you are. Which makeup goes best with the velvety dress you're dressed up in. How to leave behind lipstick stains whenever you kiss.

Like her fellow trainees, Glimmer eats everything up. She begins to dream big. One day, she'll tear through the arena in a destructive but alluring way, and reign as the next victor of District 1.
She's seen it happen. She knows it's possible. Glimmer has grown up watching those reruns, the ones that display the dazzling but lethal golden boys and girls of her home district. Their charming smiles that make Capitolites everywhere swoon.

Glimmer wishes that she was in their shoes. She especially admires Cashmere Ritchson, the lustful blonde of the 64th Hunger Games, the one who solidified the stereotype of the stunning, dangerous, slightly ditzy District 1 girls. A Victor who kissed and killed. A role model for the kids training in the Academy, Glimmer included.

And like all the volunteers before, Glimmer practically flies up to the stage after saying those magic words. She curtsies to the cheering crowd and turns to face Cashmere. Her hero.
She's expecting the victor to fall at her feet, congratulating Glimmer for such an act of courage. Praising her beauty. Helping her rake in sponsors and then sending her the most luxurious goodies in the arena.

Cashmere does none of that.

She looks tired. Or maybe bored. Instead of acknowledging Glimmer, Cashmere just starts whispering to her brother. Almost as if she doesn't notice the girl standing in front of her. And to Glimmer, it's possible. Cashmere doesn't care about her at all.
The Reapings conclude with her district partner, Marvel, pumping his fists in the air as he stands beside her. Glimmer ignores him.

Inside the Justice Building, everybody comes to see her. Her parents, her older sister, her best friends. Glimmer basks in the attention, but the Peacekeepers arrive too soon and time is up. She follows them to the train, where Cashmere is already waiting. And just like earlier, Glimmer receives nothing but the cold shoulder.

All throughout the ride, Glimmer tries to do what she can to get Cashmere's attention. She tells jokes, displays her flirting techniques, and makes snarky comments during the recaps. Finally, she tries to beg for some training tips. This interests Cashmere.

"Please Cash, please. I wanna win and I've decided you're gonna help me. Just tell me what else I've gotta do to win, and I'll follow it!"
A pair of hands are placed on Glimmer's shoulders. "Don't call me Cash. Ever. And you think you're gonna win? Let me tell you something."

Glimmer's heart begins to pound.
"Don't bother. An airhead like you is never getting out of there alive."
Cashmere's voice takes an icy tone. Glimmer is stunned. "Hey, I-"

"It's not gonna happen. You're never gonna win. You just think you can charm your way out, but that's not happening. Girls like you, I get them all the time. You're all sexy and sultry and just plain beautiful. But while you're busy fixing your looks, some outlier kid is gonna slit your throat. Don't try and prove me different now, because you tributes are all the same."
This wasn't supposed to happen. Glimmer wasn't supposed to be insult by her hero, the one who started the trend.

"Well...I can prove myself. I'm gonna show you that I can kill and looked good at the same time! I won't just be some bobble-head. I'll win."
Cashmere starts walking away. "I give you Final 12, tops."

Much to Glimmer's dismay, her mentor is right.

Cashmere Ritchson, aged 28

Beauty is deadly.

Cashmere is the one behind that saying. She's the one who went into those Games, batting her eyelashes and swaying those hips. She spent her time in the arena dazzling sponsors. Her knives never missed and she always had a special way of using them.
First, she'd aim for the heart. Then, she'd blow a kiss goodbye.

When Cashmere's Games were over, she was expecting to live next to her brother in Victor's Village and that the hype would die down. She wasn't expecting someone to knock on her door and escort her to the Capitol. Where she was forced to sign the contract.

That damn contract. If she had a choice, she would've ripped it up right then and there. But she doesn't. And her signature goes right at the bottom, handing the rights of her body over to President Snow. He smiles. Cashmere just squirms in her seat as he throws the contract into a small safe, full of many other contracts like it. And Cashmere catches one special name.

Gloss.

That snake. He's forced her brother into this as well! Cashmere just nods and leaves, but she's fuming on the inside. It's bad enough that she'll become the new hottest thing at the Victor Market, but she'll doing this alongside Gloss. She can only imagine the licking of lips and the stickiness of fingers as Capitolites rush to purchase the pair.

Beauty is deadly. Cashmere has learned this the hard way.

Her first night was absolutely horrible. Her client let her leave early, because she was shaking and screaming too much to be any fun. Cashmere is confronted the next day. She'll still upset with President Snow, but also intimidated. What does he want from her now?

"I'm sorry Miss Ritchson, but we can't have you constantly backing out on customers. They're the ones who paid for this, and it is your job to fulfill their demands."
"I'm don't want to."
"You don't have a choice. You're the one who signed the contract. You can't go back on it now."

"What happens if I do?" As much as Cashmere wants out, she's also afraid of the consequences. She has a feeling there's a terrible punishment awaiting Victors who refuse the contract.
"If you do...well...there will be riots among citizens. Those who wanted to see you personally, but never will. I can't simply get rid of someone so popular but for your loved ones...those are easy to arrange accidents for."

Beauty is deadly.

The saying now holds a different meaning for Cashmere. She must present herself as the sexy, hot-ticket item the Capitol wants her to be...or else suffer. She hates this job, but doesn't want to lose those she loves. Her mother, her stepfather...her dear brother. Poor old Gloss, who was likely been threatened in the same way.

It sickens Cashmere to watch the ditzy volunteers rush to the stage and attempt to charm their way to victory. They all go for the same angle, the one she went for when she won. She can't stand the sight, especially when she knows the fate awaiting these girls if they ever make it out alive.

Cashmere tries to warn her tributes. She tries to let know about the contract. She tries to tell them they're making a huge mistake, throwing away their lives just or some stupid crown and short-lived victory.
None listen.

By her tenth year of mentoring, Cashmere has given up. She still plasters a fake smile on her face and gives a little twirl for the cameras. But in private, she's a completely different person. One who mopes about, with absolutely zero faith in the tribute trying to get her attention. One who simply lies there as clients her their way with her and then offer a generous sum of money, thinking it will make her feel better.

Cashmere Ritchson wishes she wasn't so beautiful or deadly.

I've decided that I'm gonna start a new story! This one's gonna be a side project to my current focus, my SYOT.

It's gonna be a 24-part thing, where each chapter contains a oneshot about a tribute and a Victor. As in this chapter, I did Glimmer and Cashmere. Marvel and Gloss are going to be next.

Hope you guys like this!