Transparent Lies

Gale Hawthorne thought he had the world figured out.

A hardened boy of only eighteen, he'd been forced to let go of his childhood naivety early on. Without a father to help shoulder the burden, he had single handedly taken care of his grieving mother and younger siblings. He never questioned or complained of the responsibility, he simply fulfilled it without comment.

That was how things worked out in this twisted place, in a country so sickly conceived with a tyrannical government the people were too afraid to stand up to. After witnessing the injustice in practice around him, very little was left to the imagination. In his mind, he would hunt, work in the mines, have a family, and pray that his own children would one day exist in a better place and time.

Despite his handsome appearance, which earned him a considerable female following, Gale had few people he trusted. In this small circle were his family, and Katniss Everdeen. Strong, dependable, and protective; he and Katniss were so perfectly matched. While he didn't harbor romantic feelings for the Everdeen girl, he could picture himself with her in the future. It was a logical prediction, and a convenient one too.

Romance was a frivolity he couldn't afford, not when his brothers were teetering on the edge of starvation. He chose to be practical and pragmatic with the way he conducted himself, and nothing could hinder his efforts, not until now.

Gale thought he had everything figured out, until the summer of the 74th Hunger Games. Prim, a defenseless twelve year old, had been reaped. His best friend had volunteered to take her place. And there was nothing he could do to help them.

But what came as the greatest surprise were the feelings he developed for the mayor's daughter. Blonde hair, clear green eyes, and an unexplainable attraction were all it took to pull him in.

The two of them made no sense together, and neither of them could conjure the nature of their relationship. What had begun as ignorance and resentment had somehow blossomed into a love he never knew he was capable of feeling.

Madge Undersee was the love of his life, the light to pull him out of the darkness.

And he was the remedy to her perpetual solitude, the first one to truly listen and hear how painful silence was.

The journey they embarked on was a complicated one. But even in hindsight, through all of the hardship and heartbreak, he wouldn't trade the experience for anything.

-p-

Chapter One

He was in a particularly poor mood, the first time they spoke to each other.

He was more nervous about that day's Reaping than usual, and he had every reason to be. His name would be entered into the bowl more than four dozen times. The odds were not in his favor,

They'd seen each other before, passing each other on the street and at school. The only connection between them was his friendship and her acquaintanceship with Katniss. He was never the sociable type, and from what he could observe, she wasn't either.

"Pretty dress,"

He'd muttered the comment under his breath without forethought. He stood on the front porch of the biggest house in the Town, delivering red berries to the only family in the District who could really afford them. While he could usually appreciate any business provided, he couldn't help but scoff at the opulence she displayed at that moment.

Instead of the drab attire she wore to school, she donned an expensive white dress. Details of lace were sewn near the bottom hem, and a golden brooch was pinned against her breast. Her long hair was tied half up with a soft pink streamer. The ribbon knotted at the back of her head, but the ends peeked through to the front. He would never admit it aloud, but Madge Undersee was, for lack of a better description, pretty.

The light haired girl shifted her feet as she averted her gaze away from his piercing grey eyes. She couldn't decide whether or not his compliment was genuine. She pressed her lips together before she addressed him in the same manner he had spoke to her in.

"Well," her voice was still quiet, but a touch clearer than he imagined. "If I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"

A thick tension settled over the trio, and it became evident that their casual conversation had made a terrible turn. It wasn't that she sounded vain, or ignorant. It was simply the wrong thing to mention on that day.

He visibly stiffened, and his jaw tightened.

Her mouth parted slightly, almost as if to try and rectify what she had said, but it was too late.

"You won't be going to the Capitol. What can you have? Five entries?" He paused, and the expression on her face confirmed his statement. "I had six when I was twelve years old."

This wasn't novel information to any of them, and all she could do was maintain eye contact with the heels of their shoes. She didn't dare look him in the eye, but the truth to his comments were all too true.

Of course, Katniss came to her defense. Upright, moral, and righteous Katniss would always be there to help. "That's not her fault," she hissed at the boy next to her. She shot Madge a sympathetic look.

"No, it's no one's fault," he admitted, "Just the way it is,"

All of the distress and pent up anger was giving him a migraine, and he had taken it out on a girl who didn't deserve it. But even so, he didn't apologize. He wasn't vindictive enough to blame her for all that was wrong in Panem, but nonetheless, he wasn't so repentant to say he was sorry right then in there.

Besides, a girl like Madge Undersee could do with some more hardship. What did she have to worry about anyway? Her father's job provided her family with more than enough money for food, enough money to buy a ridiculous Mockingjay pin made of real gold. She didn't have to suffer a day in her life, perhaps this encounter would give her a tougher skin.

His thoughts were interrupted by the jangling of metal coins, and his eyes fell onto her as she hands Katniss the money in exchange for the strawberries.

His words had punctured her veneer, but she tried to make it as least obvious as she could. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and couldn't tell a lie to save her life. In hopes of escaping this doomed confrontation, she turned to the brunette girl.

"Good luck, Katniss,"

She didn't bother wishing Gale anything, and he didn't seem to mind.

Her front door slammed shut, and that was the end of it. Or rather, the start of something else entirely.

-p-

Madge turned the corner before entering the kitchen and placing the small basket of fruit on the counter. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and placing her hand over the left hand side of her chest. Her heart was beating so rapidly it ached.

She mentally chastised herself for allowing to get so worked up over nothing. She needed to be more careful, especially if she hoped to keep her condition a secret. Even though her life was mundane and methodical, it was in her best interest to keep it like that.

And she wouldn't let a stranger like Gale Hawthorne get under her skin. She'd handled nasty comments before, but this was the first time the truth seemed to strike her so hard. He didn't know anything about her, and she knew nothing of him. Frustrated with herself for dwelling on it in the first place, she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind.

The entire house was silent, as her father is out preparing for the struggled to get rid of the image of olive skin, dark hair, and sharp grey eyes as she headed up the staircase in the foyer.

Her mother dreaded the Reaping, it resurfaced horrid memories of her own youth that had no business being brought back. These days was more absent in the ways of the mind, always staring out the window or at the ceiling above her bed.

Madge did everything she could think of in attempts to get her attention, but all efforts were futile.

"Mother?" she knocked softly on the door before taking the first step into the master bedroom.

The older woman sat in front of the vanity, a vacant and glazed look upon her features. Mother and daughter were both mute, neither of them quite ready to begin a discussion.

"You look beautiful," Mrs. Undersee swallowed, nodding in her direction.

"You too," Madge reciprocated and forced a fabricated smile as she got closer. She visually noted her mother's undone hair, "We should probably get ready, we have to be in the square soon,"

"Of course,"

As they had done routinely, the elder woman turned and Madge grabbed the silver hairbrush off the vanity. She began to count aloud as she stroked the length her mother's familiar blonde hair with the ornate instrument.

"One…Two…"

The nature of their relationship was strained, if anything. As Mayor, her father was constantly absent, leaving the only two females in his life to fend for themselves alone at home. Ever since she could remember, her mother was never the attentive parent she longed for.

Mrs. Undersee had fallen pregnant early in her youth, at about seventeen. As improper as it had been to conceive a child out of wedlock, the scandal was soon overshadowed by the plight that followed. Madge never had the opportunity to know her aunt, but she wished she had at least met her.

Her mother refused to speak of Maysilee Donner, but stories of the courageous and bright girl never ceased. Her father had explained to her the situation, and the explanation behind her mother's desire to forget. Maysilee had been Reaped and killed in the Games, a loss and tragedy that seemed to plague Mrs. Undersee for the decades that followed.

It was difficult to discover the details of what had happened, and it didn't take very long for Madge to realize that no one would reveal any more information to her. For her mother's sake, Madge stopped for a while. But her curiosity soon got the better of her, and she found another source to learn from.

Haymitch Abernathy.

It had been nearly 25 years, but the man never forgot. The local drunk had stopped her on the way home from school five years ago, the year her name was to be first entered in the Reaping. He wreaked of alcohol, and had begun to sob when he spotted her.

Jumbled words came from that man's mouth. He begged for forgiveness, ranted with no end. He even laughed hysterically at the sky with his arms spread wide open. He told her, probably on accident, how much she resembled her aunt. Spitting image, he called her.

Shortly after, he passed out.

She was no genius, but it didn't take great cognitive competency to decipher the reason for his actions. Piecing the puzzle together, she managed to get the general picture. Maysilee was loved by all that she touched, an outgoing young woman with a heart of gold. Though never explicitly stated, many speculated the romance between the two tributes from District 12 that year. She was capable of winning the Hunger Games, but had sacrificed herself to let her partner return home. Haymitch never forgave her for it, and Mrs. Undersee couldn't bear the memory of her beloved elder sibling.

"Ninety-nine…One-hundred."

Madge finished and neatly set the brush down, sighing as she began to pin and twist her mother's hair into a simple knot. She pulled away, when her mother's hand shot out and grabbed her hand. The pin.

It was the only belonging she'd salvaged and managed to get permission to keep. It was a subtle gesture, but Madge had resolved to honor the memory. Sometimes Madge let her mind wander, and think of what it would be like to be thrown into the arena like Maysilee.

God forbid it actually happen, for she didn't think her mother's poor soul could take it.

Madge was a petite and physically weak girl anyways. Mrs. Undersee had been so distraught during her pregnancy, watching her sister fight to survive and ultimately die in the arena. She hadn't taken proper care of herself and the life growing inside of her. Even after Madge was born, proper care was never given.

This all resulted in Madge's fragile bones and feeble heart. As a child, she was never allowed to run in the schoolyard or play tag. She became isolated and overprotected, a social pariah and nightmare for any youth.

"You look so much like her," Mrs. Undersee observed monotonously as she stared at her daughter's reflection in the mirror.

Not wanting to exacerbate her mother's grief, Madge diverged and headed over to the closet on the other side of the room. She took the first formal dress she saw off the hanger and held it out for her to see.

"We need to hurry, it's almost time,"

"Of course,"

End Chapter 1

A/N: Desperately wanted to experiment with this pairing. If you liked it, or would like me to continue, please review!