A/N: Sorry about such a late update guys. We've both been busy with personal commitments and the like. We're also sorry about the shortness of this chapter, we planned on making it longer, but again we just don't have the time. Furthermore, after the next chapter (which will be a long one, bear with us) we'll be taking a chapter each from that point onwards, because we think the conversations are getting repetitive. Thanks for reading and keep reviewing!

I slept quite well that night. I dreamed that I won the games and the people of the Captiol and District 1 were chanting my name, screaming at me to notice them. My admirers. My fans.

I woke up and rubbed my eyes. Bits of eyeliner flaked off into my hands. I sat up on my bed and stared around the room again, taking in the beauty and elegance of the Capitol. I stood up and trudged to the ensuite bathroom, where immediately I stripped off all my clothes.

My naked reflection was beautiful. I looked like a queen. My bright green eyes sparkled with determination and my blonde/brown eyebrows were perched above them, straight and perfect. My skin was flawless, my cheekbones high and my nose stood in the middle of my perfect face, straight and proud. My blonde hair looked messy, but perfect. Beauty Base Zero I guess. I brushed through the knots with the hairbrush on the counter, and let my hair loose to rest over my shoulders.

I really am beautiful. I smiled at my naked reflection, tracing the curves of my body, and grinned at the mirror, with my perfect teeth. In District 1, we are trained to be beautiful. That's why I have no hair in unsightly places, why my skin is flawless and why I am perfect.

I walked over to the mahogany closet and opened it, bathing in the floral, sensual perfume sprayed onto my clothes. I chose a short, baby pink dress patterned with floral designs in the shoulder areas. It fit around my body snugly, and exaggerated my curves. Yet again, I looked beautiful. I wore my black boots with buckles on them.

I glanced at myself in the mirror again, the Capitol would love me. I'm the perfect tribute. Career, beautiful, strong, beautiful, cunning, beautiful, sexy, and beautiful. What more could you ask for? More of me I guess. But there's only one Glimmer Sparks here. And there's only one victor here. It just so happens that they're the same person. Me.

I left my room and shut my door and wandered over to the dining room, where my charming older brother, a previous victor, sat eating.

"Hey Glim. Good sleep?" He grinned at me, offering me some toast. My stomach grumbled. Oops, I guess I was hungry.

"Hey, Dick. Yeah I slept good. I'm confident. Pass the butter."

"Watch it, Glim, I'm your mentor after all." We both broke into laughter. He wouldn't let me down when I entered the arena. I guess this is the last chance he can mock me before he tries to save my life by getting me sponsors. Haha.

We then got talking about the Games. He told me that Career packs only stick together until nearing the end, so when there's 10 or less tributes left, I should find a way to disband, or one of the Careers might just shove a knife down my back. I shuddered.

"Okay, so I'll leave the Careers. Do I attack them as soon as I leave, or do I ally with someone else to help me?" Donner could really help me out. He did kill his entire career pack a day after he said he'd leave. By himself.

"Never ally with anyone else. No-one trusts the Careers anyway, especially not after they've disbanded." I nodded my understanding. I then repeated my question.

"Will Eleven join us?" "No, Glim, we've tried allying with the stronger elevens, they just don't like co-operating with us. There might be a slight chance, but with his permanently angry face and sullen expression, honey, I doubt it." I scowled at his reference to me as 'honey', just as Marvel walked in. I tried not to look at him because Donner, of course, was making awful attempts at starting a conversation.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Donner smirked, obviously making fun of Marvel. God, doesn't he ever give anyone a break?

"Hey," he breathed the word out, as if he was really tired.

"Sleep alright?" "Nice joke." Marvel seemed grumpy. Well done, Don.

"So, what were you guys talking about?" He seriously sounded annoyed. What happened? What's wrong with him?

Donner stopped making jokes and replied swiftly to him, "We were discussing the likelihood of the male tribute from 11 joining the Careers this year, what with the multiple failures we've had trying with 11s in the past. Do you reckon he will?"

I looked up at Marvel then, shocked by how bad he looked. He looked exhausted.

Oh well. I can't start to worry about him now, he'll be dead to me in a few days anyway. I musn't start to care for him.

"I can't say, I don't exactly know him." Haha! I let out a small giggle, that was funny. At least he's got a sense of humour, unlike that Eleven.

"Well, I think you should at least try, even if Cash is against it... Speak of the devil!" Donner cried.

She walked in the room, looking beautiful as always, not as much as me of course, but she was focusing on one thing. I turned to see what she was staring at so intently, when I widened my eyes realising what she'd been eyeing up and down. She interrupted my thoughts with a "Nice ass, Marvy."

I choked and spluttered my cereal out, what the hell? Since when do mentors flirt with tributes? And since when did Cashmere have a thing for Marvel? Not like I cared anyway...right..?

He mumbled a thanks, as he slid into the seat next to me, as Cashmere flopped down onto the seat next to Donner. I glanced up at Cashmere who smirked at me, probably internally laughing at my obvious irritation.

"Where's Twinkletoes?" Donner says, while also muching through the delicious lemon drizzled bacon, referring to our irritating and sparkling Quartz.

"Out like a light, far too much to drink last night," Cashmere says, smirking. "It's funny, you think he'd wait until we actually got to the Capitol to party."

I smirk at Cashmere's joke, covering up my still existing annoyance at her flirtation with Marvel.

"Not a very responsible escort then?" Marvel asks.

"Nope, never has been." Donner and I exchange glances. I've always thought Don had a thing for Cashmere, maybe he's annoyed at her dumb flirting as well as I am. But I don't have a thing for Marvel...Do I?

The rest of the table and I sit in silence, occasionally a sound of a crunch of bacon or a slosh of juice poured into a glass is heard. All I'm thinking about is the Games, and when exactly to split from the Careers. Maybe I can take that 2 guy with me until the end where I can pull a fast one over him and kill him. After all, we're both lookers.

I decide to leave the table and the incredible food, I might explode any second. Then IT walks in. Shit. I better escape as quickly as I can. Marvel gets up with me and I see him notice Quartz entering, just as Quartz cries out:

"I OVERSLEPT OH MY GOSH WHERE ARE WE HAVE WE ARRIVED WHAT'S GOING ON I MISSED BREAKFAST OH CHRIST HELP I CAN'T DO THIS I-" I run past him, and slam my door, making it known that no-one, especially that glittery freak, can disturb me. I walk into my bathroom again and stare at my pretty reflection.

Cash knocks on my door and pulls my out, and Marvel joins me. I quickly fix my hair at the door and as it opens, a bright flash of cameras bathe both Marvel and I, and behind us, our mentors, Donner and Cashmere. Marvel quickly grabs my hand as we walk into the brightly sparkling and colourful world that is The Capitol.

The cameras subdue quickly as Quartz ushers me into a bright white and purple room. Three Capitol citizens shuffle towards me, and in turn introduce themselves as Hezdal, Jersey and Invilia. They all compliment my beauty and perfection, and just as I was about to compliment them back, I realise there was nothing pretty about them all.

Hezdal's skin was tinted pink, and her massive quiff-hairdo was coloured in royal purple, to represent District 1's Luxury theme, I guess. She had atlantic blue eyebrows and lips, which were unusually puffy, (Capitol alterations?) and a snout-like nose. She looked like a pig, however she was disgustingly thin. Yeah, the Capitol doesn't like fatties.

I then glanced over at Jersey, who was sporting grey skin (why...) and bright green hair. His eyebrows matched the hair and so did his thin lips. He had piercings in his dimples and silver plated teeth. He even had green jewels encrusted into his forehead, spelling out the letter J.

Invilia, the tallest of the three, had bleach-white skin, and dark red hair set in spikes. She had red eyebrows, red lips and even red eyeliner. To top that off, she had massive red eyelashes, which were encrusted with precious red jewels. They all looked ridiculous.

Hezdal removed my robe and Invilia gasped and giggled. Jersey shrieked "Oh DARLING! You're gorgeous! We don't even need to prep you up for Titan! Oh, Titan will love you!" Hezdal and Invilia nodded eagerly at Jersey's words, and I replied, "Yeah alright, bring him in."

I placed my robe on as Titan walked in. His skin was silver, so shiny that even at the slightest movement, he sparkled. His teeth were golden, shown when he gave me a large and slightly creepy smile. He waggled his deep blue eyebrows at me and winked at me, showing off his blue eyeliner and jewels encrusted into his eyelids. He walked to me and showed me his claw-like nails, painted black, as he removed my robe to get a better look.

Then, things got scary. He took my hand and kissed me hard on my lips, and I pushed him away from my naked body. I threw my robe back on and screamed as he walked towards me again, hoping, I guess, to force himself upon me.

I screamed as he got closer, and no-one came to my aid. I needed help! Titan was striding towards me, his nails brushing against his pinstriped trousers, as I yelled Marvel's name again and again, hoping that he'd hear me and help me escape.

Then the door swung open, and Marvel was there.

Having tossed and turned most of the night, and waking up with sweat traversing down my forehead from nightmares of my sister in the Games, I pull myself from my bed. Heavily, I walk to the enormous mirror taking up half the wall to my right.

I speak the words as if I'd said them a thousand times.

"My name is Marvel Glory. I'm seventeen years old. I'm from District One. My sister was reaped for this year's Hunger Games. Glimmer Sparks volunteered for her. I was reaped. No one volunteered for me. I'm going to win. I'm going to return home to my Luna. No matter what it takes. I'm going to win."

Staring intently at my own eyes, I realize just how horrid I look. Though normally white as pearls, my eyes are now more bloodshot than those of Morphling addict suffering from withdrawals and coping poorly. The bags below them are a deep purple, and extend almost two-inches downward. My hair has become matted with sweat and was still sticking to my forehead. I can't help but think that I'm nothing short of ugly, as I had for most of my life. Seriously, I have to be one of the worst-looking boys in District One. Not that that really matters going into a televised deathmatch with children who, I'm sure, look multiple times worse than this in the morning. Unless the finale involves a runway, along which we have to walk through a series of traps and come out looking positively flawless for a photo shoot with a top Capitol magazine, I think I'm going to be fine.

Eventually freeing myself from my own gaze, I wrench open the wardrobe closest to me and rifle through the clothes. An atrocious array of shirts, sweaters and trousers bombards my senses with their many colours and fabrics; there's also a deeply perfumed aroma wafting out as I open the doors, so my nose is in for a 'treat' as well.

I pick out something that suits my taste, just a simple blue-green t-shirt and some jeans. I guess the Capitol is trying to bring old fashions back into taste again, because these jeans have slight rips across the knee and down the shins. They aren't perfect, but they get the job done.

Throwing them onto the bed with little care for tidiness, I rush to the en-suite shower room and fiddle with the buttons until I get the temperature just right and step in. The water washes away all traces of bad dreams and wakes me up a little more. I'm thankful to have it here, really, I mean, I wouldn't want to go out any more gross than I already am, would I?

I dry off and pull the clothes on quickly, noticing that it's 8am already, and everyone is probably at breakfast by now.

I leave the room in a mess and head off to the dining cart.

To my surprise, only Donner and Glimmer are there, sticking to their early morning rise. They're already in deep discussion about, I assume, the Games. This makes me think that there might be a secret training carriage on this train that I haven't been told about... No, the Capitol would never allow that.

Disregarding my thoughts, I push open the door and step into the carriage.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Donner says in a slightly mocking tone.

"Hey," I manage, a yawn escaping my mouth.

"Sleep alright?"

"Nice joke." I stare daggers at my mentor.

Glimmer hasn't turned to look at me yet. Instead, she's sifting through her bowl of multicoloured cereal, perhaps hoping to find some escape from her brother's awful attempts at conversation.

"So what were you guys talking about?" I press.

Donner, who has now taken on a more serious posture, answers, "We were discussing the likelihood of the male tribute from 11 joining the Careers this year, what with the multiple failures we've had trying with 11s in the past. Do you reckon he will?"

"I can't say, I don't exactly know him."

Glimmer giggles a little at this. Surely I'm not that funny?

"Well, I think you should at least try, even if Cash is against it... Speak of the devil!"

I turn to see Cashmere in the doorway behind me. Hold on, is she staring at my-

"Nice ass, Marvy," she says with a wink. I can't deny that she doesn't look at least a little hot in her low cut, almost transparent may I add, pale blue dress.

I rotate again upon hearing a choke from the table, Glimmer clearly found this either gross or hilarious. I'm willing to bet it was the latter.

"Uh, thanks," I mumble.

We both move over to the table and take seats opposite one another, so the mentors are on one side of the table, and the tributes on the other. I decide I may as well eat something and make the most of the Capitol food. 'The Games are unpredictable', so who knows whether I'll make it out to savour a good meal again.

"Where's Twinkletoes?" Donner says, through a mouthful of lemon-drizzled bacon, referring to our escort.

"Out like a light, far too much to drink last night," Cashmere replies, with a smirk, "It's funny, you think he'd wait until we actually got to the Capitol to party."

"Not a very responsible escort then?" I question.

"Nope, never has been."

The rest of our breakfast passes without a word. Glimmer and the mentors are probably thinking up strategies for the Games. I, on the other hand, sift through thoughts of my sister, and how much she'd love to try this food. Hopefully she gets that chance.

It's not until Glimmer and I decide to retreat to our rooms that Quartz decides to finally make an appearance, in a rush, and looking rather disappointed with himself. Serves you right for being such a self-centred piece of sh-

"I OVERSLEPT OH MY GOSH WHERE ARE WE HAVE WE ARRIVED WHAT'S GOING ON I MISSED BREAKFAST OH CHRIST HELP I CAN'T DO THIS I-"

Glimmer squeezes past him and I do the same, sprinting to my room, only looking back to see Cashmere trying to calm the crazed canary down.

I'm grateful to have a few more moments of solitude before the regular procedure within in an hour. So much so that I manage to drift off for the remainder of my time on the train, only nice dreams this time. I win the Games, twice.

Quartz wakes me by banging on my door thoroughly to announce our arrival, and I'm immediately alert again, and back into Games Marvel. Strong Marvel.

I make my way down to the exit carriage to be greeted by a mass of cameras, and have only seconds to hold onto Glimmer's hand once more before I'm whisked off and everything becomes a massive blur. There are far too many colours in this place that I'm having difficulty distinguishing left from right.

Eventually, I retain my bearings and find myself stripped naked on a wheeled bed being preened and plucked at by my Prep team. I don't bother to ask for their names, and obviously I'm not important enough to know since they don't even offer them. They look like they'd be terrible conversationalists anyway, most Capitol citizens are (or so I've heard). Also, I don't think it'd be easy to converse with one of the women, since she's got her lips stitched together and painted fluorescent orange. I tell you, these Capitolites and their insane fashions...

After finishing waxing every inch of my chest, having slipped my boxer shorts back on once they'd done my legs - you heard right, they waxed my legs; something about "hairy is scary" - I'm informed that my stylist will arrive within the next five minutes.

But that's when she screams. I recognise it almost instantly, being recorded in my brain from the one time I'd heard it previously.