Strictly Prohibited ➳ THE HUNGER GAMES ✔️

|07| Love Blooms In Unexpected Places

Chapter 7 x

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Gloss's POV

I'm woken way too early the next morning by the sound of someone vomiting in the bathroom. I immediately come to my senses and shove the blankets off, because my palms are sweaty and I'm worried that one of the ball attendees decided to use my sister after all. I'll find out who it is and snap their neck. It feels nice to think I have the power to do that. Yes, physically, I could easily. But the problem is that you can't just go around killing prominent Capitolians, even if you're a mad Victor.

It's not Cashmere in the bathroom. It's Storm, kneeling down in front of the toilet bowl with her brown hair braided back as she throws up again. My lip curls in contempt. Well, someone certainly can't hold their alcohol very well. How much did she even have last night? I remember everything clearly: her flirting with stupid Odair, a harsh slap across the face, Storm struggling to hold back tears that she had no right to. That hardens my resolve and I pass her by, walking down to find that Cashmere has already started on breakfast.

"Well?" I demand, my eyes flicking momentarily to the television as I take my seat across from her. It's Day 7 and as with the last few days, I wake up paranoid that Marvel might have died during the night. What would happen if he had? Would I take it calmly, or would the animal break its chains and smash anything in sight.

"He's fine." Cashmere exhales deeply. "In fact, there haven't been any deaths since Glimmer and that District 4 girl. It's way too quiet. The Gamemakers are probably getting bored."

The Gamemakers getting bored is never a good sign. This means they'll engineer something. An earthquake, a wildfire, a flood. Anything that will get the tributes' adrenaline pumping, maybe kill a few of them off. I know that Marvel's pretty resourceful and although more quiet than Glimmer, he's probably more intelligent as well. I sit down and help myself to pancakes. The toilet flushes and Storm pads out, barefoot and pale-faced.

"You alright?" Cashmere inquires as Storm sits down for breakfast. The brunette nods and pours herself a glass of juice, downing it before pouring another. "Good. Because you and Gloss are going to pick out what sort of gifts we're sending Marvel with the sponsor money we have."

I glance sharply at my sister. Is she insane? Well, perhaps that's not the right question to be asking. She knows that I don't like Storm, that Storm doesn't like me...but perhaps she picked up on what I was attempting the previous night. Cashmere is smart. Maybe she knows my idea of getting Storm on our side, making it look like we're best friends in order to have the Capitolians gushing over us. They love Storm. I have no idea why, because I find her plain and dull, but I suppose underneath their colourful facades, they're all the same.

"What about you?" I demand.

"I have other thing to do," Cashmere informs me irritably, and I know better than to ask. It could be anything, but there's always the odd chance it could be what we both fear. "Stop being such a child, Gloss. You don't need me to hold your hand up there, do you? Besides, that's Storm's job today."

I glare across at Storm, but she's too focused on the television. She's numb to the prospect, neither pleased nor angry. I don't know whether that's a good thing or not. I push out my chair and get to my feet. Storm and I will be in the public eye once more, so it's important that we make a good impression.

"Get yourself cleaned up," I tell Storm disdainfully, "You look a mess. I'm not going out with you looking like that."

She watches me blankly and I sigh in annoyance and stalk out. I haven't yet reached my room when someone grabs my wrist. I tense and whirl around, to find that Storm looking at me with bright hazel eyes. I sneer at her. She really does look a mess. Her hair is sticking up at all angles and she looks...young. She looks like she could be a teenager.