Okay, here's chapter seven! This is Glimmer's chapter, which was a bit harder for me. I'm not sure how you guys are going to feel about this, since I tried to portray her differently from what the fandom agrees on for her. Now, I may or may not be able to post on Sunday-I'm going to be at my grandma's house-but if I can't, you'll get a double-post on Tuesday. After this it's the District 10 boy and Mrs. Mellark. Anyway, thanks for all your great reviews, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.
I'm so embarrassed and nervous right now, my hands are trembling.
I really don't want to do this. I don't want to go out there, in front of all those people, wearing this, pretending like I'm comfortable with it. Because I'm not.
I know the angle my team is going for. They want me to look like some kind of sexpot, sultry and luscious. Apparently if I pull this off, I'll have sponsors lining up around the block, because they'll want me to survive. That way, I'll be able to model for the Capitol. A perfect plan, right? Only one problem with that, though.
I'm not. I'm not going to be some vacant, sexpot model. I want to be an actress, a serious one, not one of the empty-eyed ones who read Capitol propaganda for the official district broadcasts.
And then, they're calling my name, Glimmer Janah, and I'm walking across the stage in that horrible, see-through dress. It's now or never. You are an actress, I tell myself, You can do this.
Somehow, I manage to act like this is what I've always done, smiling and waving in what I hope is a sultry manner. Inside, I'm ashamed. What do my family and friends think, watching this? Do they think that these Games have already changed me?
By the grace of…someone, I get through my interview. It took all my acting skills, but hopefully, I pulled it off. Taking my seat on the stage, I sit back and watch the other interviews. They all pass by in a rush, and I tune out almost completely until the second-to-last interview.
The District 12 girl walks across the stage in the most beautiful dress I've ever seen, covered with glittering jewels, catching the light and throwing it across the stage. The girl wearing it, previously unremarkable to me, has been transformed into something radiant.
Her interview is nothing fabulous in itself. But she's so beautiful in that dress, so dazzling, she could say anything and people would be enthralled. And they are.
Jealousy builds up inside me, and I'm angry. It's not fair. I embarrassed, humiliated, degraded myself for this, and it was all for nothing. They've all been blown away by her.
I sacrificed my dignity for this, and for what? Nothing. All because of her. I hate her!
I want to kill her!
My lip curls into a sneer as I realize that, in a few days, I'll have the opportunity to do just that.
She'll pay for this.