Strictly Prohibited ➳ THE HUNGER GAMES ✔️

|02| Dying Is Easy; It's Living That's Difficult

Chapter 2 xx

Flashbacks are in italics

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Gloss's POV

I don't like this year's escort. In fact, I like her even less than last year's escort. Most of them are pretty open about what they are, looking down their noses like the snotty Capitolians they are. This one's different. She's young for starters, younger than me. Maybe twenty. Her attitude is what annoys me the most though. Her name's Storm or something stupid like that, and she acts as though she's a wide-eyed innocent, like she doesn't know what the Hunger Games are.

The tributes this year are arrogant, way too sure of themselves. I guess I can't exactly blame them – wasn't I just the same, not that long ago? I sit in a chair and swill my glass of wine, watching as Marvel attempts to flirt with a clearly uninterested Glimmer. Cashmere is over making herself a cocktail. Storm is sitting stiffly in her chair, like the proper young Capitolian she was raised to be, no doubt. She takes small, polite sips of her wine and avoids eye contact.

"So, Sky..." I know it's not really her name, but I also know that it irritates her. It would be amusing, I suppose, to get under her skin. After all, she's not a danger like another Victor. What could little miss Storm Asterbury actually do if I got on her nerves?

She glances up from her glass. "Storm."

"Storm." My smile's mocking, probably even to her eyes. "Right. What is it exactly that you do in the Capitol? Of course, some of the year you're occupied with the Hunger Games, but what about otherwise?"

"I..." She looks puzzled, as though she's not quite sure to respond to such a direct question. Stupid Capitolians, she's probably used to fancy wordplay and dancing around the topic. "Visit my mother when I can, I suppose. Well...sometimes. We...we don't get along."

It seems strange to think that Capitolians actually have families, to think of them as anything but monsters. I glance across at Storm. She's trying hard to appeal to us, her hair a clearly natural mouse-brown and her eyes a fairly normal hazel. I think I'd prefer crazy colours and absurd behaviour to this clean-cut, professional-looking little try-hard.

"Why are you telling me about your family?" I lean back in my chair, raising my eyebrows. "Do you actually think I care about them? I asked what you do, not about your mother."

She blinks, not exactly hurt but a little surprised at my blunt response. Please, like I care. What is Storm going to do, cry if I hurt her feelings? Why does she even have the right to be offended? She's the one who's pretending to be something she's not. If she's from the Capitol, she might damn well act like it.

"Gloss, stop it," Cashmere snaps, sinking into a chair across from me with an electric pink cocktail, which she takes a sip of, before turning her attention upon Storm. "I apologize for my brother. He's not exactly the friendliest of people."

"Whatever," I reply, my mood turning sour. Of course, that's just Cashmere. She plays polite with the Capitolians, which is why she never has problems with any of them. I suppose it's probably stuck with her because of having to play the falsely sweet card with the men she has to sleep with. It's disgusting. I can't help but feel like Cashmere is taking Storm's side.

I glance across at the tributes. They're not allowed to drink, so instead they seem pretty bored with watching everything going on around them. I get up off the chair I'm sitting in and move so I'm leaning against the table next to them. That gets their attention. Both teenagers fall silent, watching me warily.