GLORY & GORE
soundtrack
I. Glore and Gore – Lorde II. Immortals – Fall Out Boy III. Him & I – G-Eazy ft. Halsey IV. Lake of Fire – Nirvana V. Angel with a Shotgun – The Cab VI. Glitter and Gold – Barns Courtney VII. Skinny Love – Birdy VIII. The Bitter End – Placebo IX. Poison – Alice Cooper X. Control – Halsey XI. Young God – Halsey XII. To be Human – MARINA XIII. The Kill – Thirty Seconds to Mars XIV. Love is Madness – Thirty Seconds to Mars ft. Halsey
Prologue
so you're a tough guy,
like it really rough guy?
Clove
I inhale sharply.
Try to concentrate.
Focus on the knife in my hand and throwing it as hard and as fast as I can. But I can't stop my mother's words from infiltrating my mind.
You will go to the Academy. You will train. You will become a Victor.
I grit my teeth in frustration, when I see that the knife hasn't laded even in the vicinity of where I want, no, where I need it to land. I was aiming for the Dummy's eyes, but I haven't even managed to hit the general area of its head. Since I've started training seven years ago, this has only happened to me once. I'm a natural when it comes to throwing knives. It is the sole skill I mastered without needing any instruction from my parents, the only skill that comes to me easily, naturally, without even really thinking about it.
Normally.
I inhale deeply, trying to calm down. Focus, I tell myself. I need to focus, if I am to do this. Go to the academy. Train. Become a victor. Make my parents – no that would be too much to ask. I will go to the academy. I will train. I will show them – show them all – what I am made of, that I am capable of far more than they think me to be. And for that to work out, I need to focus.
I allow myself to close my eyes, trying to tune everything out for one, two, three deep breaths. Easier said than done. If I close my eyes, then there's no escaping the visions. They never stop coming.
I don't get past two deep breaths. My visions aren't the sole reason though.
A commotion at the other end of the training room demands my attention. The voices are so loud and agitated. Nervous, even. For a moment, I'm questioning what they have to be nervous for, but then I remember. Remember where I am, where we are, what our sole purpose is.
"Hadley, do that again and you'll be out of here faster than you'll be able to say Hunger Games!" That stern, angry voice can only belong to Gesa Sharpe, one of the previous Victors from District 2, now a mentor in the games and the Academy as well.
"He was pushing me out of the way!", another angry and agitated voice yells back. When I finally do look over to the other side of the room, to see who in hell is stupid enough to talk back to Gesa like that, bright, piercing, blue eyes capture my gaze.
Too bright. Too piercing. They see too much, too much, too much.
They always do.
"Is that so?", Gesa's voice is dangerously low now. Only an idiot would still dare to talk back to her now. I've only known Gesa Sharpe for a bit more than three hours – I think, I'm not sure – but that much I know.
Apparently, the boy with the blue eyes and short, blonde hair is an idiot.
He snaps at Gesa again, angrily gesturing at the other, much smaller boy, who in no way could have possibly pushed him out of the way. Even though the blue-eyed idiot can't be much older than me, I'm sure he can't be older than fourteen, he must have a good three or four inches on me, at least, as far as I can tell.
"I saw it", I suddenly say, surprising not only myself, but the blonde idiot, Gesa Sharpe and the other boy as well.
Hadley, the idiot – I don't know his first name yet, so calling him idiot seems about right, I figure – raises his eyebrows in slight confusion. Still, he can't hide the arrogant, self-satisfied smirk creeping up on his face.
I'm confused, too. Why on earth am I helping him out? For all I know, he's an arrogant prick, and a bully too from what I've seen so far. I don't think I'll need to see more to manifest my opinion. Still, I've supported him, when I just know that we're both lying. Idiot to hold his ground, make that younger boy see that, no matter what really happened, he, Idiot, will always be right.
But me? Why did I lie?
I'm not really sure. Certainly not to make allies. That's the one thing that my parents can't agree on, concerning the academy. Mother is all for making allies, partners in training, but Father wants me to stay on my own, hold my ground and only be reliant on myself, only trusting myself, because if – when – I'll be a Tribute in the real Games, myself is the only person that I will be able to trust.
I think it's something that I saw in his expression, when Idiot was arguing with Gesa. Something I saw in his eyes – dark, dilated pupils. Fighting to be perceived, acknowledged for his efforts, whatever Idiot's efforts may be, though.
Something that reminded me of myself.
"You saw it, Kentwell?" Gesa's stern voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
I nod, sharply.
"Yes", I reply, my voice sounding much smaller – and scared of her – than I'd like to admit, much smaller than I'd need it to be to be convincing. Thankfully – thankfully? – this time it's Idiot who helps me out.
"See, there you have it!", he says to Gesa, arms crossed over his broad chest. Gesa raises her eyebrows at him, yet he doesn't back down. For a moment, she continues to look sternly at both of us, then she sighs, saying:
"Alright. Hadley, Kentwell, back to training, both of you. No distractions this time." And just like that, her attention's not on us anymore, instead lingering on the smaller boy, still standing next to Idiot. He's followed our whole exchange with wide eyes, looking indignant, like he can't quite believe what has just happened either.
I'm not really sure I understand it myself. Why on earth did I lie for Idiot?
I'm still pondering over that question as I finally make my way over to the dummy, intending to finally draw the knife out of it and get back to practicing again.
Just when I reach out, standing on my tiptoes, to get the knife, another hand appears right before mine, yanking the knife out of the dummy, before I get the chance to do so. I don't need to look up to see that Idiot's standing right behind me.
"Careful", his voice says from behind me. I can feel his warm breath on my neck and it's all I can do to not involuntarily shudder right then and there.
I turn around. He's holding the knife out in his hand for me to take it, it's tip pointing right at my heart. He is standing too so close to me, I could count his fair lashes, if I'd crane my head back far enough, seeing that he really is a lot taller than me. He's got at least three inches on me, if not four.
Without a word, I take the knife out of his hand.
"I'm Cato", he says. And I know that this is as much a thank-you as I'm going to get for my lying for him to Gesa.
"Clove", I answer.
The corners of his mouth quirk up, in what I think is supposed to be a grin. He fixes his bright, piercing eyes on me, taking yet another step towards me, forcing me to take a step back. As my back hits the wall behind me, I press my lips together, forcing down the gasp that is clawing its way up my throat.
His blue eyes seem to shimmer, alight with an emotion that is so familiar to me that it nearly makes me shudder.
"Well, Clove", he says, "it's nice to meet you."