Glimmer had always been beautiful. When she was a child, everyone always said how cute she was, how beautiful she would be when she grew up. Then she was teenager, and she entered the Academy. The place where they trained children to win the Hunger Games. Only a fraction of them ever got to go, but Glimmer decided right then and there that, no matter how good she was, she wouldn't be one of them.
Training to fight, to win, to manipulate allies—Glimmer was the best girl in her class. Especially at manipulating people. Everyone thought that she would go to the Games. Everyone thought she would win. But she wouldn't. She didn't want to volunteer.
The Reaping came. She was told to volunteer, told that it was an honour. She wasn't going to. Then the name was drawn, a little twelve year old walking towards the stage. And she realized that, live or die, the Hunger Games were her chance. And at eighteen, this was her last chance. To prove, win or lose, that she was more than a pretty face.
"I volunteer," Glimmer blurted out. Soon, her and Marvel were on the train to the Capitol. As soon as she watched the reaping in the other districts, she knew that she was going to die. That district 2 boy, Cato, was too strong for her. And the girl from district 12—Katniss Everdeen—if she played it right, she'd have more sponsors than her mentor knew what to do with. And she would be determined. For that sister, she had been willing to die. But Glimmer knew full well that she would be trying to live.
She thought that the Capitol would be different. That all of these people that were lining up to watch her die wouldn't care how she looked. But her stylist is emphasizing that gold hair, her green eyes. Glimmer hates how she looks. And she decided right then and there that she is going out on her own terms.
Her outfit from the parade emphasizes her beauty. For her interview with Caesar Flickerman, her mentor tells her to act sexy, that it will get her sponsors. She does it. She never had the courage to act differently than she's supposed to—look where it's gotten her.
But she knows that, live or die, she's going to prove herself more than a pretty face. But to do that, she has to survive long enough to get attention. She gets in with the other careers, the ones that she knows will turn on her when the time comes, but she's safe enough with now.
Marvel keeps his distance. He thinks he knows exactly what she's up to. She flirts with Cato like is expected of her, acts like an empty-headed piece of fluff. All the while, knowing that she isn't going to live so instead planning to die in a way that will disfigure her so horribly that nobody will ever think of her as beautiful again.
It is the second night that she finally finds it. They are under a tree, waiting for Katniss Everdeen. Glimmer knows that Peeta Mellark is only with them in hopes of protecting her, and she wishes that she were more like Katniss. Nobody ever wanted to protect her, after all. She is cuddling up to Cato (as everyone expects her to do) when she sees it. In the tree above them, just a few branches up from Katniss, is a Tracker Jacker nest. Knowing what she is about to do, she feels peace for the first time in years. But Katniss would never trust advice coming from her. That dilemma is solved for her when the little girl from eleven—Rue, or something—is spotted in the next tree. She wanders away, pretending to be going to the bathroom, under Rue's tree. "There's a nest," she hisses to the girl. "Tracker Jackers. Above twelve."
Okay, maybe she is trying to take down as many of them with her as possible. Marvel has always treated her like a joke, in the district. Clove is a little psychopath. But this is really for Cato. She had always promised herself that she would get back at him for acting as if it is his right to put his hands on her ass.
She goes back to Cato and falls asleep, knowing that if the little girl listened to her then tomorrow she will be dead. And ugly. Thank God.
She is woken by a rampant buzzing sound. The others are up and running, and the things hurt so badly that Glimmer runs too. She knows that the girl from twelve can shoot, so she makes sure to land someplace that Katniss can find her, take the bow. Since Cato got away, Katniss is the only chance that she has for someone besides him to win this travesty.
"Win it," she whispers, still alive even though Katniss thinks that she's dead. Her hands are swollen around the bow. She's ugly now—swollen and deformed and covered in stings. Katniss doesn't hear her, too lost in her own hallucinations. There is nothing more that Glimmer can do, so instead she succumbs to the blackness, knowing that, if nothing else, she has proven that she was so much more than a pretty face.