Chapter 63: Gloss Irvine
A/N: District One is back with yet another tribute to rack up their Victor count but what's this? Gloss isn't a noble boy, so how did he end up in the arena? And furthermore, how did he get out of there?
P.S. Please sub to Blue Moon xd. It's not first come first serve, but I wouldn't be surprised if no one subs so I'm sure you're tribute will get accepted lol, it would really make my day if you put in a sub!
P.S.S. Please sub to Crystals too, it's my collab with Marie464, the form is on her profile xd and once again, it would really make us both super happy if you subbed!
Tears swelled in Katniss's eyes as a haunting ghost of Gloss shimmered across the folds of her memory, his once charismatic speech now a nagging voice in the back of her head, forever terrorising her dreams and her visions, never quite letting her get any sort of respite from the endless trauma of Gloss and Cashmere's deaths, wait no, murders. Murder was the right term to use in this context.
Because no matter how much Katniss tried to convince herself otherwise, Gloss didn't deserve to die, and his killing of Wiress had been no worse than her murdering him. It was the exact same thing really, a life being taken away for the sick entertainment of the Capitol. And the Capitolites weren't even entertained by the grossly disgraceful spectacle known as the 75th Hunger Games, they didn't want their stars, their icons, their beloved heroes, to die in the arena.
However, none of that could take away the truth from her. She had killed Gloss, without even knowing who he was, without even sparing a single bit of thought for either him or his twin sister Cashmere, who was right beside him screaming her head off in horror, moments before she too would join her twin in the afterlife. To her, he was just another classically beautiful Career Victor, a brutal murderer, a snooty rich young man, nothing more, nothing less. She had failed to scratch beneath the surface, and it had caused her so much neverending guilt. "I just wish we had known him better," she whispered, her voice becoming that of a shattered, broken young woman.
Peeta nodded, a solemn look upon his face. Even though he hadn't played a part in Gloss's death, he had still failed to find out much about Gloss, merely dismissing him as yet another noble Career boy, completely ignoring his surname, which was not even that of a noble family, or the fact that he seemed more malnourished than most District One tributes. No, he had completely overlooked those, and he still bore the shame and guilt with him, and would likely never be free from it. "He really did love her, Cashmere, I mean, she was his twin sister after all."
Katniss wiped yet another tear that glistened with melancholy from her cheek. "And he was never loyal to the Capitol. That I can respect very much."
Peeta let out a wistful sigh. It was true, Gloss had never openly sung the Capitol's phrases like some other Victors had done, in fact, during his final interview, he had stated that he wasn't going into the arena by choice, and had linked hands with the other Victors in a final show of rebellion against the Capitol, all of which were hints to his blatant disloyalty that Peeta had missed out.
Remembering his Games was an utterly painful experience for both of them too.
Gloss Irvine
District 1
Aged 17
4 Kills
TOP SEVEN TWIN MOMENTS WITH CASHMERE AND GLOSS
1:
Gloss and Cashmere always stuck by each other. It was an unwritten rule, but one they were more than happy to follow. There would be no exceptions, in any situation, they would be there, without fail, to support one another.
After all, they were twins, that was part of their twin duties, right?
That was only made even more evident when just three weeks after their seventh birthday, when their parents, Glisten and Tsar Irvine, were both killed by a drunken bartender while walking down a lonely street in the dead of night. Having escaped the horrific conditions and abuse of the Cooper Mansion many years ago, they had fled to another town, before eloping and giving birth to Cashmere and Gloss, a pair of strong, healthy twins, two babies that they had dreamed of having since their elopement. Life was by no means comfortable, with both Glisten and Tsar having to work hard in the gemstone mines, but at least they had a house and could put food on the table for both Cashmere and Gloss. And neither twin complained, having been accustomed to this humble lifestyle, a far cry from the luxuries that their parents' former master, Geneva Cooper, was drowning herself in. Arguably though, Glisten and Tsar were in much better shape than the girl who was bathed from head to toe with a treasure trove of riches and pools of gold, the girl who could bask in her glory, wind down her days as a renowned celebrity, a Capitol icon and a hero. At least Glisten and Tsar were content with their lives, while Geneva, well, she had been entangled in the VPR, was lost in an endless maze of guilt for all that she had done and had enslaved herself under a master known as alcohol. Glisten and Tsar would definitely pick their current, meagre lifestyles over countless days of mental torture, thank you very much, and so would Cashmere and Gloss.
But that night, at the hands of an old, foolish bartender who had gotten a little too tipsy, all it took was a couple of gunshots with that pistol he had stolen from a Peacekeeper when he was still a fresh youth, and that fairly comfortable phase in Cashmere and Gloss's lives came to a sudden, abrupt end.
The news of their parents' deaths came like a thief, in the middle of the night, when a Peacekeeper had arrived at their house to inform them in a cold monotone about the incident. To this day, Gloss could still remember his face turning as white as a sheet of paper as right beside him, Cashmere let out an anguished scream and broke down into a fit of sobs, wailing for the injustice that had been dealt upon them. Gloss too wanted to cry, wanted to sob, wanted to just let all of his emotions out in one, messy heap.
But he had to comfort Cashmere, to stay strong for her, to be the shoulder to be cried upon. And so, as the Peacekeeper marched out, a blank, emotionless expression on his stone-cold face, Gloss and Cashmere hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down both of their faces like uncontrollable water fountains.
"It's not fair!" Cashmere wailed. "I want my mom and dad!"
"I know, Cash," Gloss murmured softly in her ear, biting his trembling lip and trying his very best to get a hold of himself. "But Mom and Dad want us to stay strong, remember? We're their little knights in shining armour, we can't let them down!"
Cashmere sniffled. "We're only seven, what are we going to do?"
Gloss thought for a moment. He himself was rather unsure of what to say, because what were they going to do? Go out to work? But what about school? Train at the Career Academy? For what, a good workout session? Beg on the streets? They wouldn't last a day. He gazed down at Cashmere, her long, flowing strands of immaculate blonde hair brushing over his chest as she wept in his sleeve, her tears drenching his red shirt but he didn't mind one bit. "We fight on," he said finally, a slight bit of confidence slowly emerging in his voice.
Cashmere glanced up, gazing at him with big, blue eyes. "Fight? How?"
"We're Mom and Dad's little lions, we'll, uhh, work as hairdressers or something like that! But we don't ever give up!" Gloss declared, flashing his sister as confident a smile as he could muster.
Cashmere pondered for a moment, tears still cascading down the side of her face, but at a much slower rate. "I guess you're right, but promise you'll always be there."
"Only if you promise to do the same," Gloss told her, wrapping her in a warm embrace.
Cashmere nodded quickly, her head bobbing up and down in an eager fashion. "Yes, of course!"
"Good, then I think we'll get on just fine." The future was uncertain for both Gloss and Cashmere, but one thing was for certain: they would fight on together.
Little did they know though, in the face of the biggest challenge in their lives, they would have to venture into an unknown land, leaving the other twin behind as they battled their way through the Hunger Games arena.
2:
Fast forward ten years, and the twins would have found out that life in District One was as harsh as ever. In a cruel twist of fate, they did find employment as hairdressers, for the Montgomery family, that was. At least the Cooper family were slowly brushing up on their morals, trying their best to extend an olive branch of peace and a dove of kindness to their disgruntled, abused employees. The Montgomery family, on the other hand, knew no such mercy. Gloss and Cashmere were the personal hairdressers of a particularly spoiled brat by the name of Bordeaux Montgomery, a fourteen-year-old boy who was from one of the richest branches of the Montgomery clan. To say that he mistreated them would be the understatement of the century, really.
Oh, he turned their lives into a living, hellish nightmare.
Gloss and Cashmere were promised food on their plates whilst contracted to the Montgomery-Montague clan, being given three basic meals a day for their service. This was initially a big plus for them, as prior to their hiring, they often had to go hungry for days. However, Bordeaux just had to snatch their food away. You see, the clan gave them food, but they also encouraged this little rascal of their to take it away from them. in fact, as their master, he could do whatever he wanted with them and their possessions, so denying them the opportunity to eat when their food was so tantalisingly close to their mouths was definitely a favourite pastime of his that was allowed in the household, but it was also one that brought about long, famished nights for the starved twins. They were occasionally given small morsels to eat, of course, but even then this was far from enough to suit their nutritional needs.
However, the family also provided a way for them to counter this, in the form of registration into the Career Academy.
Every year, in order to get continued streams of funding from the Capitol, these District One Career Academies had to pull out high recruitment rates. However, there were only so many noble children, so their numbers would, in normal circumstances, pale in comparison to the stats that District Two or even District Four academies could boast. Thus, they had to take in normal children too, without the chance of volunteering, of course. In exchange, they would be given some cash and some food to eat too, thus causing application rates to skyrocket. Gloss and Cashmere both signed up for this scheme, as Bordeaux was not allowed to touch the food they were given here, and this was where they began their rise to becoming real, strong fighters.
Not everyone was happy, though.
Bordeaux, insanely jealous of his two 'slaves' stealing his thunder at the Academy, had been locked up and shackled in a dark, cold cellar filled with cobwebs and wasp nests every night, and some mornings, he would casually 'forget' to release them. Furthermore, he denied them anything other than the simplest of clothing and would beat them up with his favourite iron rod, or the 'Irvine Smasher' as he liked to call it, on a near hourly basis, inflicting a wide array of scars and bruises across their bodies. The slew of verbal abuse he cast out in their direction was certainly far from fun too. But Gloss and Cashmere stuck together holding firm in the face of this blatant exploitation, as they walked along this rocky road of life hand in hand, being there for each other at all times, creating a remarkable story of two strong twins that prompted a wave of support from the other employees.
Which was exactly what led to them being fired.
They were seen as too powerful, too strong, a pair of twins who could pose a real threat to not only Bordeaux, but also the rest of their clan. An uprising from within seemed imminent as long as those two were around and in the eyes of the heads of the family, sending them walking out the door was a pretty straightforward yet heartless decision.
And just like that, Gloss and Cashmere were out on the streets again, fighting against the elements for survival, relying solely on begging and using the money they got from training at the Career Academy.
But it was nowhere near enough.
And so, on the eve of the Reapings, Gloss and Cashmere made the tearfully difficult decision to allow Gloss to volunteer, in a bid to earn some wealth to survive the harsh winter that was looming in just a few months. Cashmere would, for the duration of the Games, go into hiding, to prevent herself from falling into the inevitable onslaught of outrage from the furious Montgomeries when Gloss stole their boy Merlot's volunteer spot. It was a difficult decision, as Gloss could very well perish in the arena, but in a world as cruel as Panem, it was their only shot, their one, final hope, the last, desperate card that they could play.
And volunteer for the Games was exactly what Gloss did, an action that was met with horrified gasps quickly followed by a stunned silence as he marched his way up the stage, a confident, dazzling smile on his face, ignoring the dirty looks the nobles were all shooting him as he took his place up on stage, introducing himself as a 'volunteer for the ages'. This was for Cashmere, his beloved twin sister, a way for Gloss to ensure that she would never have to worry about the future anymore, to ensure that they would live long lives filled with bliss and comfort.
This was all about his twin sister, the one he was more than willing to fight and risk his life for.
The rest, as they say, was history.
3:
Gloss was more than grateful that his stylist for the chariot rides was Prudens. Because looking at some of the other downright outrageous outfits that were on display for all of Panem to see, oh he'd gladly take his outfit, thank you very much. Prudens was a friendly, light-hearted man who Gloss could sit down and have a nice, long chat with without any qualms. He shared a couple of jokes that cracked Gloss up and seemed fairly inquisitive about his life back home, seeing that he wasn't a noble boy. But hidden underneath those bright, twinkling eyes and that chirpy smile on his lips, Gloss could see that he was starting to become a broken man. The smile, chirpy as it was, was quavering with a tinge of melancholy, as if he was fighting hard to keep that poster smile on his face, and his eyes glinted with a hint of restraint, a forlorn cloud popping up every now and then, one that would be quickly shrouded over by that mask of optimism, and his body would occasionally shake a little once in a while, leading Gloss to think that something was up. When he tried to enquire about it however, Prudens simply gave him a nervous chuckle and waved it off.
"It's nothing," he said, mustering a calm voice. "So, anyway, how's your sister? Will she be safe from those nobles, 'cause they sure aren't going to be happy."
Gloss wanted to divert the subject back to Prudens, but he could catch that pleading look in Prudens's eyes, begging for him to drop it. Out of respect for his friendly stylist, he begrudgingly obliged and began to talk about Cashmere, a topic that pained his heart. He really did miss her, and every second without the twin he had relied on for all his life felt like almost an eternity. It would sound cheesy to a Capitolite, but truthfully, the summary of their entire life was 'it's us against the world'.
Because it was.
Kindness was a rare blessing for the Irvine twins, and it was scarcely present over the course of their lives, which only made Gloss appreciate Prudens and his tender attitude. The conversation continued and soon Gloss forgot about Prudens's initial troubled look, as this time, Prudens did a much better job at masking it. However, as he got up to leave the Makeover Centre, a green-haired man wearing a fancy blue suit sauntered up to Prudens, his pot belly jiggling a little as he walked, the dark sunglasses that for some reason made Gloss more than a little wary of him bobbing up and down the bridge of his nose. He wore a lanyard with an identification card on it, displaying his face and a name that was printed in a font so small that Gloss couldn't read it from his vantage point. Gloss narrowed his eyes as he stood in the Makeover Centre, already dressed in his new costume, a silver suit with a grand silver cape covered in sparkling glitter, along with silver pants that shone brightly in the bright lights of the Capitol and a crown adorned with diamonds, an outfit that greatly resembled one Cashmere used to admire at the shop windows, in a forlorn hope that she could one day wear it. He liked this outfit very much, compared to the tree costumes that the pair from Seven were thrust into year after year without fail, or the ridiculous cow jumpsuits that the young pair from Ten were handed to wear, and that memory of Cashmere pressing her face up against the glass panels of the windows down Maurice Lane did strike a heartfelt twin memory in his heart. But its designer, Prudens, was on the receiving end of a hefty interrogation by that strange Capitolite man, who was a foot taller than Prudens and stared down at him with fierce, intimidating eyes, grunting something that Gloss couldn't hear. When he tried to edge closer to have a listen though, a member of his prep team, Drew, a young woman who was fairly shy compared to the others, placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"Let them be," Drew murmured, her voice soft and anxious. "You don't want to get too close to Mr Elvaine. He's a high-ranking dude who controls some pretty shady stuff."
Gloss turned to her, and the instant their eyes met, her cheeks turned slightly red and she lowered her head, shifting her glasses as she took a sudden interest in her black shoes that looked surprisingly normal in the midst of a quirky, extravagant city like the Capitol. In fact, she caught the eye amongst the hordes of naively spoiled prep team members. Her clothing was comparatively plain and she rarely spoke much, much unlike the other two chatty members of Gloss's prep team. Drew brushed a strand of her pink hair behind her ear. "Mr Elvaine terrorises Prudens a lot. He threatens him, does unspeakable things to him..." She trailed off, lost in her train of thoughts.
Terrorised him?
Gloss was suddenly hit by a crash of intrigue, as he pondered about what his poor stylist could be possibly enduring at the moment. But just as he was about to inquire further, Drew changed the subject, which was probably for the best. "So, what's your strategy for the Parade?" she asked, shuffling her feet slightly.
Gloss shrugged. "I don't know, Cashmere was always far more charismatic than I ever was." It was true, though, most of his public speaking skills were garnered from learning from Cashmere, who had that aura of confidence around her and could drum up support with just the right selection of words and body language, something she had taught Gloss over the years, allowing him to perfect it and display it on that eventful night at the Tribute Parade.
While she was miles away from Gloss at the moment, the fanatic screams of "Gloss!" that could be heard loud and clear even as the District Twelve chariots rolled to a stop in front of the President's Mansion and the large bouquets of flowers that were flung in his face, those were undoubtedly the product of her work and close twin relationship with Gloss, and after the Parade, back home in District One, Cashmere watched on from the back of the crowd, dressed in a thick hooded cloak, grinning proudly at her twin brother as he marched off to a standing ovation.
4:
The Bloodbath was one heck of a mess. Cashmere stood in the crowd, having stolen a can of spray paint from the Montgomeries and dyed her hair brown. She wore that same dark green cloak that she had been wearing to every pre-Games event that was televised for all of Panem to watch, the one that had once belonged to her mother Glisten, back in the good old days when she and Gloss were just two happy kids living normal lives without any fear at all of the Games. She stood on her tiptoes to get a better view over the sea of heads that stretched out before her. In the front row, on comfortable wooden chairs with fluffy cushions and armrests, chairs that resembled royal thrones, sat the Montgomery noble family, all ninety known members dressed in all their pomp and grandeur, their chins held high in indignation for the rest of their District, a few butlers who had been tasked to attend to them standing close by, serving them cold water and refreshments when needed and further sweetening the experience by fanning them in the midst of the summer heat, which wasn't so bad in District One. Cashmere could still wear that cloak of hers without sweating too much after all. But of course the Montgomeries had to be pampered. They shouted and screamed at these poor servants of theirs, who were more like slaves with the thick collars around their necks and the masks they wore to hide their identity from the crowds. Certainly, they were not in the least grateful towards these slaves, who were beneath them, apparently.
"Those rotten little brats," she murmured underneath her breath. Not even the Coopers or Ashtons or Carmichaels stooped as low as that vile clan, as the other nobles sat in common chairs without cushions or any form of extra comfort or butlers for that matter, quietly and peacefully observing the Games as they unfolded, not making any sort of fuss or disturbance.
Because the Montgomeries were the richest of the elite noble families and had to be oh so special.
Cashmere rolled her eyes at the thought of it, and continued to gaze on at the screen quietly, waiting with an anxious heart for Gloss's pedestal to rise from his launch tube. Someone brushed past her, a little rudely, but Cashmere, didn't dare to speak up, for fear of stirring up trouble and being recognised. The Montgomeries had sent search parties around the District in a fervent hunt for the blonde-haired twin sister of the boy who had stolen Merlot Montgomery's thunder.
Those shallow idiots didn't realise that I could just dye my hair, Cashmere thought, smirking as she did so. Gloss had suggested the idea of dying her hair before the Reaping, a pretty clever idea, which was probably why Gloss had always been the smarter twin. But Cashmere could always safely claim that she was the more charming twin, as seen by the fact that Gloss didn't make too big of an impression during the interviews, having let his nerves get the better of him. Oh well, at least his training score of nine was pretty convincing.
This year, from what Cashmere could make out, the arena was an abandoned carnival, or whatever those things were called. Cashmere had only seen them on posters and old Capitolite magazines, but she had always pictured them to be the bright, colourful realms where fun presided over everything else, where children frolicked around happily, having the time of their lives.
But now, it was where children would be sent to die.
Cashmere could finally see him now. Gloss. Her twin brother, standing right between the distraught-looking pair from Seven, emerging from his launch tube dressed in a red jacket that was fairly typical of a District One tribute. She held her breath as he gazed around, calmly observing his surroundings, narrowing his eyes as he caught sight of a red piece of wrapping paper tumbling around the dirt paths, propelled forward by the wind, which Cashmere could tell was pretty strong judging by the fact that Gloss's hair was being swept about his fringe. He cleared some dust from his eye and refocused his gaze onto the Cornucopia and what it had to offer. Cashmere too, carefully scanned the selection of supplies available, hoping that he would choose wisely. Gloss's gaze rested on a short sword not too far away from him, and a flicker flashed across his blue eyes, indicating that he was dead set on that particular weapon.
Cashmere, however, knew that going for a short sword would be far from ideal. Gloss was decent at it, but the way the large, gang leader boy from Nine was flitting his gaze between Gloss and that same sword, she had her doubts. Gloss didn't seem to notice the boy from Nine's smouldering glare on him, though, and just stared ahead intently. Cashmere scanned the rest of the weapons stash, until she caught sight of a set of knives resting on a crate in the heart of the Cornucopia, something that Gloss seemed to have missed.
Go for the knives instead, Gloss, please! Cashmere pleaded silently, willing for him to move for the set of knives instead. Could he possibly sense her pleas? Maybe there was a telepathic connection between them as twins, something neither of them really believed to be true, but at the moment, Cashmere was more than happy to find out that they seemed to be wrong, as Gloss's eyes shifted to that set of knives, and his eyes lit up with delight. Knives had always been his favourite weapon, and she knew that he would stand a much better chance if he was armed with them.
Good, now go for them and take out the boy from Nine! Cashmere thought, hoping that by some miracle, Gloss could hear her thoughts.
As if on cue, Gloss turned and faced the boy from Nine, catching him glaring right at him before the gang member could look away. Cashmere could see that Gloss was cracking his knuckles, before tightening his hands into a fist. A stern expression formed across his face and his lips curled into a scowl.
The gong rang and Cashmere's heart nearly skipped a beat. "Come on Gloss," she murmured under her breath, pressing her lips together as her twin brother leapt off his pedestal and charged straight forward, running at top speed, a determined expression on his face as his legs torpedoed him towards the knives. The twins had always managed to clock up identical speeds, but at that moment, Gloss seemed to be running faster than he had ever done so in his lifetime, which was frankly quite impressive. Cashmere grinned as he grabbed the knives and hurled two of them straight at the unsuspecting boy from Nine's chest, and he fell to the ground, bleeding profusely, a choked gasp and a soft curse being his final actions before he perished.
One down, twenty-two left to go, she thought, keeping her eyes glued to the screen as Gloss raced forward and pulled the knives out of the boy from Nine's corpse, a slightly repulsed look on his face as he did so. By then though, most of the tributes had gotten away, with only the boy from Twelve still in sight. Go for him! Cashmere screamed in her head, and Gloss seemed to listen once again. However, Cashmere could only sigh as Gloss tried to hurl his knife at the boy, hitting his shoulder but failing to stop him as he carried on running, groaning in horrible pain, but never quite losing that fight to live on.
Oh well, at least Gloss was still alive and had a kill to his name.
Over in the front row, Cashmere spotted the Montgomeries shouting and screaming at the screen before them, making low growls and hissing noises at the realisation that their girl, Vanity, hadn't gotten any kills in the Bloodbath and was on the receiving end of several threats from the Twos and Fours, but also Gloss, the very definition of a mortal enemy and a boy she had shunned, spat at and scorned throughout the duration of the pre-Games events. She couldn't hold back a chuckle as one of the matriarchs of the clan tried to hurl her chair at the screen, only to drop it on her feet, causing her to howl and shriek in a comedic mixture of pain and frustration.
Ah, such sweet sights were rare, but they were truly glorious to watch.
5:
The first thing that Cashmere had taught Gloss about being in an alliance was that he should by no means be an outsider in the pack. "When the tribute count is narrowed down you'll find yourself in a heap of trouble so make some friends!" she had implored when they were making their final goodbyes at the Justice Building.
And considering the fact that Vanity had a burning desire to massacre him to pieces, he figured that this would be something he would definitely have to keep in mind. Which was exactly why he had tried to strike up a friendship, or at least a close companionship, with the boy from Four. A strong, eighteen-year-old volunteer, much unlike last year's District Four male, but to his credit he had actually won, something that Gloss had pointed out to Cashmere as a lesson to never underestimate anyone, not even those who appeared to be weak.
They could well end up pulling the strings in the arena, just as Nemo had done only a year ago.
Matt Lee was more than aware of that. Gloss and Matt got along well with each other, both of them being in the smarter spectrum of Career volunteers, and neither of them particularly having any sort of fondness towards being placed underneath the bright spotlights of the Capitol. They both were great knife-throwers who received a nine in training and Gloss was stunned to learn that Matt had a twin sister too by the name of Roxanne, although they didn't quite get along. When Gloss spoke about Cashmere, Matt seemed to take a great interest in his relationship with his twin sister, seeming rather shocked that he and Cashmere could get along so well. Gloss really didn't want to talk any further about his twin sister, just bringing her up could almost bring a tear to his eyes. He really did miss her, she had been his rock through all his troubles but in the face of the biggest uphill battle of his life thus far, she was nowhere near him.
Except in his thoughts screaming at him of course.
On the third day, these thoughts stormed through his head at full force. The pack was walking through a particular section of the carnival that was filled with abandoned stalls that once sold food items, according to the cardboard signs, at least. Billboards with prices for meat pies, cotton candy, doughnuts, corn dogs and king cakes still clung onto their respective stalls, and piles of food sat on desolate tables, as if still clutching onto that faint hope that a weary traveller would stumble upon them and devour them.
"They could be poisonous," Matt pointed out, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at a popcorn cart that was so entrancingly aromatic. The smell almost seemed to beckon for Gloss to come over and have a taste, intoxicating his lungs with that incredible smell and making his mouth water slightly. But then Cashmere's voice blared in his head, screaming and telling him to ignore it.
And of course he would listen to Cashmere.
They passed by another stall, but unlike the other bright green ones that were the norm in this alley, this one was a dilapidated grey, worn down and desecrated by termites. There was no table, no food, nothing, just a growing pile of dust bunnies and an old oak closet that was slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of what appeared to be a set of red inflated balloon animals. Gloss could make out what he thought was a dog, but other than that, he couldn't quite see the shapes. It seemed completely out of place and he urged his fellow Careers on, wanting to get away from it as soon as possible. He couldn't quite tell why, but the place gave him odd vibes, donning an aura of fear and intimidation, shrouded by a literal thin fog, veiled in mystery. He glanced at Matt, who had his eyebrows furrowed, obviously suspicious of this place too. "We should move on," he murmured, biting his lip as he picked up his pace.
Cashmere's voice in Gloss's head agreed with this. It's dodgy as hell, get away from it!
Vanity, however, rolled her eyes, being the stubborn bitch that she was. Crossing her arms, she told them, "Oh please, it's just a bunch of balloon animals. Those things are so cute! I wanna take a closer look!"
"Vanity, no!" Gloss tried to warn her, but it was too late. She opened the closet, and to Gloss's horror, was instantly overwhelmed by a horde of balloon animals, all of whom had been hiding razor-sharp fangs and knife-like claws. She let out an ear-splitting scream, before her cannon boomed and a flurry of flesh, bone, blood and cloth was sent flying in all directions. The severed remains of Vanity's hand pummeled against Gloss's face, sending a drop of blood into his mouth. He spluttered it right out, recoiling in horror at the sight of what remained of Vanity, a pile of flesh smashed on top of her crushed skeleton, her skull bearing the frozen remains her final, agonised scream.
"My gosh!" he screamed, backing away and trying hard to resist the urge to gag at the mere sight of it. Vanity, no matter how much he had hated her, nobody, not even Vanity Montgomery, deserved such a gruesome, horrible death. His gaze lingered on her horrifying remains, glued to it as his brain tried to make sense of what was happening right in front of his eyes.
The balloon animals, mutts, Vanity, I-
"Kill them all!" Cashmere's voice barked in the back of his head.
That was more than enough to spur him to life.
Gloss grabbed his knife and looked around him, narrowing his eyes as he calculated his next move. On his left, the balloon animal mutts had pinned down the boy from Two and had slit his throat before the girl from Four could rush in quick enough to stab them all to death. She and the girl from Two seemed to have those mutts in control. On his right, though, the balloon mutts were mauling Matt as he tried to stab them all, only to be pummelled again and again by the mutts, who were popping up from other parts of the carnival too, clawing at him as they roared and screeched. Gloss was just about to charge in and save his friend when, all of a sudden, he felt a sharp, excruciating pain seer through his left leg. Whirling around, he saw that one of the mutts had clawed onto his leg and was ripping at it with a burning rage, screeching a high-pitched noise that nearly made his ears bleed. Pain shot through his body as yet another mutt landed on top of him, raking its claws down his back. The pain was like molten lava, surging in intensity as the seconds ticked by, scorching through his body in a fiery ball of agony. He screamed and swung his knives around, popping both mutts but more and more kept on coming, forcing him to employ one of Cashmere's favourite moves.
"Take that!" he shouted, twirling around and slashing the mutts on his left, before spinning around once again and slashing a couple more on his right. He slashed and stabbed past the oncoming surge of mutts, trying to make his way to Mutt, who was struggling to cope with the sheer number of mutts that were crashing towards him. Matt let out a cry of torment as a mutt slashed his wrist, causing a carmine stream of blood to gush out of the rapidly expanding wound. "Matt!" Gloss shouted, kicking another mutt in the face as he continued to fight his way through, trying his very best to ignore his own injury which threatened to drag him down, blazing through his wounded leg as he tried to fight on.
And then they killed him. Another slash of the wrist, and that was all it took for the mutts to seal Matt's fate. Boom! As the cannon boomed, Gloss began to scream in a howling rage. His friend, his ally, the boy he could confide in, he was dead. And Gloss hadn't been able to prevent it from occurring when he should have. He had been too slow, too weak, and all of a sudden, a wave of guilt crashed before him, and his eyes began to slowly unfocus, allowing another mutt to smack him in the head, knocking him out cold, as far away in District One, Cashmere let out a soft gasp, cupping her mouth with her hands, her heart sitting in her mouth as the mutts got ready to devour Gloss, until the girls rushed by and saved him.
But she still could not feel relieved yet.
6:
Cashmere knew that Gloss needed sponsors. The balloon mutt attack had deprived them of much of their supplies, and the emergence of the boy from Eleven as an entertaining manipulator who already had three kills to his name meant that most of the sponsor gifts went to him. Gloss was injured, badly injured, and was heavily reliant on the girls from Two and Four, the other remaining Careers, at the moment. At any given moment, they could easily decide that he was too much of a burden and just like that, Gloss would surely come home in a wooden casket as nothing more than a lifeless corpse.
Cashmere couldn't let that happen.
But she didn't have any money either. What she had in her pockets paled in comparison to the amount required to buy a sponsor gift, especially the one she had in mind.
And yet, she knew that she still had to help her twin brother out somehow. So, on the fourth night of the Games, she had snuck into the Montgomery-Montague estate, creeping through an old sewer that hadn't been in usage since the Dark Days.
It was cold.
It was wet.
It was dangerous.
But Cashmere would do anything to help Gloss out. Crawling into the entrance, the first thing that struck her was the sheer, god-awful smell. The foul, putrid odour, worse than any she had ever had the misfortune to sniff before, was so overwhelmingly strong, Cashmere felt as though she was about to pass out. Forced to wear her mask, she slipped down a ladder and into the old main sewage system, a large, expansive network of grand tunnels of rust, sludge and waste. There was the constant sound of water dripping that echoed through the walls, along with sudden, creaking noises that never failed to make Cashmere look over her shoulder. The sewers were relatively dry, but the surface was still wet, still covered in rotting human and animal waste, the products of years and years of gluttony on the part of the elitist nobles. Just the thought of it made Cashmere ever so nauseous, and she removed her mask to throw up when she saw a particularly large pile of human waste swarmed by flies underneath her feet, touching a small portion of the skin above her old, worn-out socks.
"Ew, that's so gross," she murmured, feeling the bile rising rapidly up her throat and quickly bending over to vomit it all out. She trudged on, eager to get out of there as soon as possible. Eventually, after wading through a mound of food waste and used plastics, she reached a small, rusty iron ladder that rose up to a grate that would lead to the family treasury. All her life, she could never quite believe how easy it was to sneak into this treasury, but of course, the Montgomeries knew this too, and would usually station stern guards at the entrance of the sewers to ensure no one came in. Furthermore, these sewers were supposedly infested with crocodiles.
Cashmere was smarter, though. She had charmed one of the guards, a young man named Michel, into letting her enter the sewers and to lock up the crocodiles in a tiny den in a part of the system that Cashmere wouldn't visit. How had she managed this feat? Easy, with a flirty wink and a kiss on the cheek. She had known about Michel's crush on her and decided to make good use of it to her advantage, because she can and she could.
She pushed the grate aside, and finally, finally, arrived at the grand Montgomery-Montague family treasury. Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at the sheer wealth that was being stored in here. Mountains of gold and silver and gemstones gleamed in the dazzlingly large room, with bright lights flickering across the ceiling and casting sparkling glimmers on the shiny surfaces of the innumerable gems and precious metals that were stashed across the room. Crowns, diamonds, tiaras, expensive watches and barrels of fine wine, and an assortment of lustrous objects that Cashmere couldn't quite name, just sitting nice and prettily right in front of her.
But she wasn't here for those expensive things, although she did stuff a couple of goblets and bars of gold into her bag, just in case Gloss didn't make it out and- no, Cashmere refused to entertain such thoughts. She pressed on, strolling across the treasury until she reached it. The grand Montgomery vault. Punching in several numbers that a drunken member of the family had once accidentally revealed to her whilst beating her up, the vault door clicked open and a blue light quickly flashed before Cashmere was able to push the vault door open, revealing fat wads of cash stacked in several tall piles, just beckoning for her to come forth and steal them all away.
Which was exactly what she did, but on a small scale, of course. She only took several wads of cash, enough to buy a specific sponsor gift, plus a little bit extra for good measure. The best part was, there was no security measure implemented, because the Montgomeries were oh so confident with the security measures they put in place outside their estate, so much so that over the years, they'd practically neglected the old sewage system. Cashmere chuckled to herself as she revelled in their utter stupidity, before climbing back into the old sewage system and escaping into the night.
Just a day later, Gloss would be standing over the corpses of the other two Careers, their mouths caked with blood and a purplish liquid, reminiscent to the poison that Cashmere had given to Gloss. She smirked. No one could stop him now, well except maybe the boy from Eleven.
However, as the tribute count was narrowed down to four, her hopes were sky-high, and she could just picture it in her head.
Gloss was coming home.
8:
Gloss heaved a sigh of relief as he sat on the train back home to District One.
It had been long.
It had been brutal.
It had been bloody.
But he had done it. He, Gloss Irvine, had won the Hunger Games. The final fight between him and the boy from Eleven hadn't been pretty at all. Gloss had found him chuckling at the corpse of his District partner, who he had convinced to eat a poisoned corn dog, right after he had secretly dragged the mute boy from Seven into a bumper car, strapped him in, and sent him crashing straight into a wall, with the boy suffering an instant death from the sheer impact. How had he known this? Well, the damn boy had gloated all about it as they encircled each other, anticipating who would make the first move. Gloss hadn't thought too much about it, after all, this was the Hunger Games, where savagery ran riot.
And then he had mentioned his sister.
In the words of his mentor Valkyrie, he had 'turned into a brutal killing machine'. And why wouldn't he? The boy, Tamato, had spat right in his face, before hissing, "When I come to District One, oh, I'm gonna put a child in that pretty sister of yours..."
That alone was apparently enough to horrify the entire nation, let alone Gloss, Cashmere's twin sister. He couldn't quite remember what had gone through his mind at the moment, except that it had all just been a blinding rampage of absolute rage. Disoriented by fury, he had killed Tamato. And judging by the replays that he was forced to watch, he hadn't made it quick at all.
The replays.
Gloss had squirmed through all three hours of the replays, but when the finale was shown to him, it had taken everything within him to not break down right there and then in front of the whole nation. The way he had twisted his knife into various parts of Tamato's body, all the while keeping him awake and aware, oh, it just made him wince so badly. Caesar had put a hand on his shoulder, and was muttering words of encouragement to him throughout the whole thing, which was frankly the only thing keeping him sane.
But now he could finally, finally, go home. Valkyrie entered his door just as the familiar main town of District One came into view in the distance, and he could already see the balloons being hoisted into the air in preparation for the upcoming celebratory party.
Balloons.
He could feel his throat quickly tightening as he thought of the balloon animal mutts that had killed Vanity, Puternic and Matt. Oh, the memories were still ever so fresh in his head, and their final screams echoed through the chambers of his mind, seizing and paralysing him with terror and trauma as he tried to look away, but found that he couldn't, for some strange reason. Valkyrie walked up behind him and placed her hand on her hip, sighing deeply.
"Trust me, it doesn't get much better," she admitted, shaking her head sadly. "And the Capitol only makes it worse. You've got a long road ahead of you, kid. But we're here for you, and don't ever forget that."
Gloss nodded, a sombre, faraway look on his face. "Yeah, thanks Val."
Valkyrie shrugged, then beckoned him out of his room. "Come on, you ready to meet your sister again?"
A smile spread across Gloss's face, a slow, gradual one. "Definitely."
The train soon rolled into the platform, where the multitudes had gathered, having heard Gloss's story and how he had exposed the shady actions of the Montgomery family over the course of his post-Games interview, they rejoiced at his victory like never before. Here was the kid who would undoubtedly start the downfall of the Montgomeries, the kid who would smear their reputation for good. The kid who would hopefully put an end to their theatrical antics and force them to start contributing to the community more often. Because Gloss was out for revenge, and he was going to put the Montgomeries in their place. He didn't want to stop them from volunteering, but he would at least force them to donate more and, well, be less snooty. The crowds cheered and chanted his name as he stepped out of the train, flashing a big, wide grin to the fawning masses below, posing for a couple of pictures, but in his mind, he came back to see one person and one person only.
And there she was.
Cashmere, his twin sister, standing amongst the crowd, tears of joy in her eyes as she spotted Gloss. The crowd instantly cleared a path and they ran right through it, towards each other, before embracing each other in a tight hug. Gloss had always taken her company for granted, but now, he was more than glad to have her back by his side. I've missed you, sis," he whispered in her ear.
Cashmere punched him weakly in the arm. "Don't you ever go off like that ever again," she warned, wiping a tear from her eye.
Gloss chuckled. "Don't worry Cash, you and I will never have to worry about anything ever again now." He glanced at the Victors Village in the distance, smiling as he thought of the bright future that would certainly await them as he made the most incorrect statement he had ever made.
"We're finally free."
Katniss and Peeta held a much longer minute of silence for Gloss, remembering the Victor from One who had given it all for his twin sister. But in the end, it proved too much for the star-crossed lovers and they swiftly moved on without another word, not wishing to dwell in any more guilt or regret.
It wasn't about to get better, though.
Upon seeing the next Victor, Katniss's head instantly drooped like a withered plant, the life sucked right out of her. The Victor in question was a gorgeous girl, with long, magnificent blonde hair, shining blue eyes and a charming smile upon her face. However, her gaze was empty and her smile was clearly forced as ever. She was tall, and fairly muscular, and everything about her seemed absolutely perfect, except, of course, the fact that it was all a forced look. The real girl behind this mask was a sad, lonely one, as Katniss could tell from her eyes, and her body language indicated that she did not want to be there. The only thing keeping her together seemed to be her twin brother, standing a few steps behind her, giving her an encouraging smile. "Cashmere Irvine."
VICTORS
District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25), Luxe Carmichael(36), Geneva Cooper(37), Cartier Cooper(44), Valkyrie Montgomery(54), Gloss Irvine(63)
District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28), Julia Dawson(39), Brutus Gunn(42), Lyme Sveinsson(45), Evan Fortis(55), Enobaria Golding(61)
District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24), Beetee Latier(40), Wiress Jansen(47)
District 4-Marina Bluebell(1), Mags Flanagan(11), Jolien Fisher(31), Timmy Fisher(32), Iris Fisher(33), Rafael Fisher(34), Coral Thiller(41), Poseidon Nakamura(58), Nemo Williams(62)
District 5-Shocker Crimson(8), Switch Kim(19), Flash Morrison(27), Porter Tripp(38), Marie Meredith(52)
District 6-Ford Hamilton(20), Kimi Bentley(51), Audi Lando(59)
District 7-Hassan Greenwood(2), Jill Wilson(15), Olive Sanchez(26), Birch Davison(35), Blight Gavin(53), James Silva(60)
District 8-Woof Casino(16), Calico Pepper(48), Cecelia Rheys(56)
District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29), Miller Thompson(49)
District 10-Ringo Alvarez(7), John Gatwick(23), Mare Trybull(43), Colt Dias(57)
District 11-Orchid Bloom(12), Seeder Crue(30), Chaff Mitchell(46)
District 12-Axel Millar(3), Haymitch Abernathy(50)
Victors that are underlined are deceased.
A/N: What did you think of Gloss? How will Cashmere end up in the Games? And if you had a twin, would you volunteer for them? (that last one was really random but eh) Let me know your thoughts in the reviews section!
Alrighty! There we go, everyone! Gloss's chapter, out after a looooooong amount of grinding lol xd. Hope you enjoyed that, sorry it might be of pretty poor quality lmao, I just had to get it done before Christmas and I've been feeling exhausted from all this stuff but it's cool, at least I got this chapter out! Anyways, pls sub to Crystals and Blue Moon, and yeah, that's about it. Oh and one more thing, a message to Marie464: PLEASE SLEEP ON TIME THANK YOU VERY MUCH :) Ah, the joys of having a twin xd. As the year draws to an end I would like to thank all of you. Yes, everyone who's reading this right now. The fact that you're doing so means the world to me, like, you couldn't possibly understand how grateful that you even clicked on this story lol. This has been a fantastic journey for me in the Hunger Games and later on SYOT communities and in a year of disasters, you guys, every last one of you, have given me something to smile about and I cannot thank you enough. Merry Christmas to everyone, stay safe, I hope you're happy and in the holiday spirit (idk what that is but sure lol), and for potentially the final time in 2020, cheers :)