Its not over until the Mockingjay sings - F. Odair

Chapter 94

Meanwhile, Gloss in the Hospital

Gloss sat upright in his hospital bed, shoulders tense with impatience. It had been two days since their rescue from the Capitol, and he was already itching to leave. He wanted to be with the others, to help, to contribute. Lying in bed, doing nothing, wasn't in his nature.

Physically, he felt fine. They hadn't treated him like they did Johanna, or Peeta, or, later, Lea. In the beginning, some peacekeepers roughed him up, trying to pry information about the rebellion from him. But it was nothing he couldn't handle. He'd told them he knew nothing, and they believed him. He was from District 1, after all. The Capitol would never suspect that one of their most loyal districts was part of the rebellion. That assumption had worked in his favor.

Still, He was forced to continue his "duties" for President Snow, entertaining Capitol women, like he had been doing since winning his Games over a decade ago. Eleven years of pretending. Eleven years of disgust. He hated every second of it, but he had never had a choice.

Lately, he'd heard about the Star Squad. His sister, Cashmere, was part of it. She'd been training for weeks now. He wanted nothing more than to join, finally to take action, to fight for the life they all deserved.

It was twisted, the way District 1 worked. When you were the best in the academy, they didn't really "convince" you to volunteer, but they pushed you. If you didn't go, your entire district turned on you. They taught you to shut off your emotions, to train from childhood for the Hunger Games. Because why wouldn't you want to? Win, and your life would be filled with luxury and ease, at least, that's what they told you. No one warned you about the reality. No one told you what it meant to be a victor, especially one the Capitol found desirable.

If he had the chance to go back, he would never have volunteered.

He never told his family about the things he'd been forced to do. The shame was too heavy. So he put on a show and pretended everything was perfect, that he was living the dream District 1 sold to its children. For a while, he thought everything was going well. That was until the year after he won.

Just weeks before the reaping for the 64th Hunger Games, he remembered Cashmere coming home, glowing with pride. She told their parents that her trainers said she was the best candidate to volunteer.

And their parents had smiled. Had beamed with pride.

He still couldn't get over it. How sick was that? Proud that their daughter was going to the Games, proud that she might have to kill, or be killed. But a year ago, he had been going through the same thing. He was also proud that he had been chosen by his District to go into the games, and after all, that was the greatest honour there was. 

He'd tried desperately to stop her. Told her everything. About the Games. About the "tasks" President Snow forced on him. About how unhappy he truly was. He couldn't bear the thought of her going through the same thing.

But Cashmere hadn't believed him. She'd screamed that he was selfish, that he just wanted to be the only victor in the family. She was going to volunteer, no matter what.

And when the day came, she did. He had to stand by and mentor his sister through the horror he had once faced.

She survived. But the real battle began afterward.

The nightmares came. She came to him in tears, apologizing, telling him he'd been right all along. But it didn't matter, not really. It was too late. They were both trapped, bound to live a life as capital puppets. 

It was no coincidence that both of them had been chosen for the Third Quarter Quell, Gloss was certain of it. When Cashmere had won the Games, he had gone straight to President Snow's office, desperate. He'd begged him to spare her and told him he would do anything he wanted in return. But Snow had only laughed in his face. He can still remember what President Snow had said to him as if it had happened only yesterday.