Trigger warnings: Manipulation, Arguments (yay!)

The Capitol official leads Cashmere, Gwen and I into an elevator, which takes us down one floor, before leading us into a small room. I glance at Gwen but she doesn't meet my eyes. To my surprise, Finch, the girl from District Five, is also there with her Capitol escort, Herc. On the table in front of her is what seems to be a wooden necklace. It's been sawn open to reveal a jagged piece of metal. Another Capitol escort is murmuring to Finch and gesturing wildly to the necklace, while she shakes her head.

I swallow and glance over to where the Capitol official is leading us. On another table lies my ring, its' point exposed.

"Care to explain this?" The official asks in a low voice once we've approached it.

I open my eyes wide, "It's my ring! But what's it got sticking out of it?"

The official studies me, "A poisoned spike."

"Poison?" I repeat, my voice hushed, "How? Why?"

"That's what we would like to know, Miss Jewel. Were you aware that when this ring here was twisted, a poisoned spike came out?"

"I...I didn't know it could be twisted," I say, bewildered, before gasping, "How long has it been there? Could I have spiked myself whilst I was wearing it? That's horrible!"

My voice rises at the last word, and the other group looks over at me. Finch's eyes rest on me, curious.

"Miss Jewel," The official is losing patience now, "Do you mean to say that you were unaware of the ring's spike?"

"What?"

He sighs, "Miss Jewel, did you know that the ring had a spike?"

"How would I?" I ask, "I've never twisted the ring."

"We were wondering, Miss Jewel, if you put that spike there yourself."

I gape at him, my brow furrowed in perplexion, "How would I do that?"

"Did you make the ring?" But there's doubt in his voice now.

"Make? No, I bought it."

"From whom?" He demands, "When?"

I shrink back, "From a seller in my Ma's tavern. During Festival Week," I turn to Gwen, "Have you ever been to District One during Festival Week?" She shakes her head, "Oh, it's lovely, you should come next year! There's music and dancing and people sell things for good luck for the Hunger Games! And this year, someone was selling jewellery. You should have seen her, Gwen! She was wearing the most beautiful green dress. It flowed right down to her ankles, it did. And when she moved it was like the wind parting a field. You know what that's like, don't you, when you stand in a field and it's all quiet but then suddenly the wind blows? It's beautiful! Anyway, her dress was like that and she had the most magnificent jewellery. Oh!" I suddenly say and everyone staring at me jumps, "You don't think she put that spike there, do you?"

"What did this woman look like?" The official asks, as I pause for breath.

"I already told you," I say surprised, "Her dress-"

"Not the dress, Miss Jewel," The official snaps, "Her face, her appearance!"

"Oh," I blink and pretend to consider, "Well, she had long hair that was brown...or was it red? I think it changed. Hair does that, you know. Have you noticed how much it changes when you stand in sunlight and then later on you stand in the dark? It's fascinating, really. And of course there are people who have different coloured strands of hair, where some are one colour and others are another."

I smile dazzlingly at them.

"And her eyes?" The official mutters.

"Oh, they were brown."

"Brown?" He says, relieved.

"But the kind of brown you get when you add just a splash of milk into coffee," I can't help adding, "Of course we can't afford to do that much in District One but it really is a lovely colour."

There's a pause, and then he says, sounding resigned, "Thank you, Miss Jewel, that will be all."

"Great!" I smile, "Can I have my ring back please?"

The official shoots a look at Gwen and Cashmere and then turns to stare at me, "No. It's illegal to have items like this in the Hunger Games."

"It's illegal to have rings?" I repeat, shocked.

"Rings with spikes...Ms Maple, please escort Miss Jewel back to her room."

The three of us turn and leave the room. Cashmere and Gwen walk in front, murmuring to each other whilst I lag behind. I see Finch's eyes track mine, a slight smile on her face as I leave the room. It's only when we're in the elevator that the others speak.

"That was foolish, dear," Gwen murmurs, reproachingly.

Cashmere slams the wall of the elevator, "Stupid! It was stupid!" She yells, "Why would you bring a poisoned ring with you when you knew it would be checked? You're a Career, you don't need something as underhand as poison to fight!"

The elevator dings and doors open, letting us back onto the District One floor.

"I told you," I tell them, "I didn't know it was poisoned."

"Then you're an idiot!" Cashmere shouts, "Get back here!"

But I ignore her, marching right past Marvel and Gloss, who gape open-mouthed, and head straight to my room, slamming the door.

I slide down and press my back to it, seconds before I hear Cashmere's fists pounding the door.

"Glimmer!" She yells, "Let me in this instance!"

I wait for her to go, and when she does, I sigh and place my head in my hands. So I can't use my ring to assassinate Snow. That's ok- I have my hairpin- but it now means that the Capitol will think I'm either a bumbling idiot or a devious poisoner.

I glance over to where the interface continues to show President's Mansion. I get to my feet and swipe at it angrily, so it changes to some crowded street. It'll be no use anyway- it can't tell me anything I don't already know, and now I don't know if the Capitol are going to have me surveyed.

I find my fingers are already playing with the sleeve of my jumpsuit, and I stare at the ludicrously dressed Capitol people talking animatedly in the streets. The only way to get into the President's Mansion would be as one of them, and they're only allowed in...

During parties. Gwen's party. With all the tumult of the past twelve hours, I had forgotten it. But how will I convince her to take me? Before the ring being revealed, I had a chance of gaining her trust, but I doubt I'll be able to do it now. I'll have to try anyway.

I take a breath and exit my room and head back into the Dining Area. The others have their heads bent over the table, no doubt discussing me. There's a bowl of food left at an empty chair by Marvel's side, and I slide into it, casting an apologetic look at Gwen. The table has gone silent and I feel everyone's gaze on me as I pick up my spoon and dig it into what seems to be stew. It's full of flavours but it tastes nothing like home and it's difficult to swallow.

"Now," Gloss says loudly. I jump and glance up in surprise. He must have decided to take charge, "I'm sure Cashmere has discussed this with you, Glimmer, but I want you both to make friends with the tributes from Two and Four and show off your skills."

I nod, trying not to let my anger show. The last thing I want right now is to be talked at by Gloss, who's barely exchanged a pleasant word with me until now.

"But maybe also try something new as well," Gloss instructs. I wonder if he sounds wise to his own ears. All I can hear is condescension.

I glare at him. He wants a spoilt kid? Spoilt kid is what he'll get. I'm in no mood to pretend to be anything else. "No way am I going to be doing something lame like identifying berries," I lie, "That's for losers."

He smirks, "No, you'll have no reason to identify berries if you get all the food from the Cornucopia. Which, of course, you will. No, what I want you to do is practice different weapons. Say, for instance, the unthinkable happens, and there are no spears or bows and arrows. I suggest something short-ranged like a sword or something that's both. Like a knife for instance."

I glance at Cashmere, whose mouth is puckered.

"Knives are lame," I repeat. She shoots me a look.

Gloss shrugs, disgruntled, "It was just a suggestion."

Gwen coughs, "I think, my dears, that it's time to watch the re-cap of the Tribute Parade."

Gwen leads us into a room known as the Lounge Area. It's like the living room in my house at home but, of course, on a much larger scale, with pink sofas half encircling a round table and facing a large black screen. I sit on the edge of the sofas, away from the others and watch as Gwen presses a button.

The screen flickers to life with the Capitol seal, and then it's showing the Tribute Parade. Ceasar Flickerman, a Capitol host of the Hunger Games, appears on screen. He's a man in his fifties with tanned skin and a slippery smile. Every year, he dyes his hair a different colour. This time, it's a dark blue. His eyes are predator-like as he gazes at us.

"Welcome to the 74th Hunger Games!" He beams, "We're kick-starting with year with a very glamorous Tributes Parade! Hang on to your seats, folks, because this year's lot are full of surprises!"

His image diminishes to the side of the screen as the route of the Tribute Parade is showed on the other half. The golden doors open, and the horses trot out. Marvel and I are beautiful- there can be no doubt of the capabilities of Arion and Marvel's stylist- and we are greeted by the roar of the Capitol crowd. But we have nothing compared to Cato and Clove's regal and majestic entrance, nor the ethereal beauty of Marina in her draped robes.

The chariots continue to file in order and I gasp when I see District Twelve. Now my back's not to them, I can actually appreciate their outfits. What I wouldn't give to wear something like that! The girl, Katniss, stares boldly at the camera, as an inferno of reds, ambers and golds blazes around her. I can't help but stop the flush that spreads to my cheeks. I press my hands to them.

Shit. Not the time! Maybe it was a good thing, I couldn't see her during the Tribute Parade...

As if on cue, the camera cuts to me and Marvel as I attempt to seat myself at the edge of the chariot. It zooms in on our faces – mine, taut with fear, Marvel's red with embarrassment. We couldn't look more ridiculous.

"A daring move from Glimmer!" Caesar mock claps, as the others turn to look at me.

"I was hoping to go for seductive," I say, shrinking back to avoid Cashmere's thunderous expression.

Mercifully, the camera cuts back to Katniss and Peeta as they raise their joint hands into the air. Katniss looks just as startled as I am by the gesture, but Peeta is smiling. The camera stays on them for the rest of the route.

Well, if the Tribute Parade if anything to judge by, they're bound to get most of the sponsors. Cato and Clove must be fuming one floor above us.

"They'll be the first to die," I note.

"They could be useful allies," Marvel says. I stare at him. He's biting his lip, shoulders hunched, staring at the screen. Any confidence he had during the Reaping has been leeched from him.

"Not everyone can be an ally, Marvel," I remind him coldly. He goes to protest but I talk over him, "Like that District Four kid, for instance. Why did you let him into the group?"

Poor Murdoch. It probably doesn't matter anyway- Cato or one of the others will most likely kill him during the Bloodbath.

"That wasn't me," He flushes, "That was Marina." They've only exchanged names but why does it sound like that they're best friends already? "Besides, it was you who brought them over."

"Who's Marina?" I retort.

"The District Four girl," He snaps. Yep, definitely protective. It seems like she's managed to do the one thing I've been trying for years in the space of five minutes: secure Marvel's friendship.

Cashmere, Gloss and Gwen are staring at us all, open-mouthed ."Well, they're all useful apart from Cato," I say. Marvel flinches at this, and I murmur, "You're afraid of him."

At this, Marvel's courage seems to return. Or at least, the appearance of it does. He raises his head and puffs out his chest, "Am not."

But he is. I can see it in his eyes.

"The arena is no place for scaredy-cats," I mutter. I regret it instantly as the pain flash in Marvel's eyes.

"Hey! That's enough!" Cashmere interjects.

"Well maybe you should have thought of that before you volunteered!" Marvel growls, getting to his feet.

I stand, but Marvel brushes past me, storming out of the room.

"Hey, where are you going?" Gloss calls after him.

"To get some air!" Marvel shouts back.

As his footsteps fade, I crumple into my chair and bury my face in my hands. Just my luck. Years go by before Marvel even realises I exist, and then the first proper conversation we have is an argument. Good going, Glimmer. I hear footsteps leave the room and then feel the sofa dip beside me.

"Now, dear," A voice beside me says, "Crying won't help."

Gwen.

I take a breath and try and push all thoughts of Marvel from my mind, before dropping my hands and looking at Gwen, adopting my best tearful expression.

"Oh Gwen," I grab her hand and she looks at me startled, "I am so sorry. I've caused you and everyone so much grief. I've messed everything up today."

Her face softens and she pats my hand, "You have been acting very childish."

"I know," I sigh, "I'm sorry. I've been feeling homesick and I've been taking it out on everyone."

"You have," She says, but I can tell my humbleness is pleasing her, "And you need to get a hold on yourself. It's natural to be homesick, dear, but I know you are Victor material. You'll see District One again in a week's time."

She pulls a face – probably at the thought of District One.

"I'll apologise to everyone tomorrow morning," I say, contrite.

"Good girl," She says, patting my hand. She gets up to go but I keep her in place.

"Oh Gwen!"

"Yes dear?" She says, puzzled.

"Could you tell me more about that party you're going to? Parties always cheer me up! Is it like Festival Week in District One?"

She smiles at me, belittling, as though I'm a Capitol dog who tried to perform a trick and failed.

"No dear," She says, sitting back down on the sofa, "I'm sure for the people of District One, your Festival Week is wonderful, but it's nothing like the parties we have in the Capitol."

"What are they like?"

"Well, dear, as you know, they vary based on the theme that the host chooses. And President Snow has chosen a nature theme."

"And this party...all the wealthiest people in the Capitol will be there?"

"Yes, dear," She pats my hand, "And we will be serenaded by the best musicians that the Capitol has to offer and the finest cooks, and as a Capitol escort, I will, of course, be talking to everyone and telling them to sponsor you and Marvel. Well, mostly you, really, as it seems Gloss hasn't given Marvel an angle or many details to work with."

"And everyone will be dressed as animals?" I ask.

She nods, "Or plants though of course, animals are far more sensible."

Right. As if going dressed as a hedgehog isn't ridiculous...

"What will your outfit be like?"

Gwen gasps and gives me a run down from head to toe of all the different details. Of course, she isn't the one putting it together- a friend of hers is- and I nod and gasp at the appropriate moments.

"But if you're all dressed up," I ask, "How will President Snow's guards know who to let in?"

"Oh!" She laughs, "We all have tickets dear, and, as an escort, I am allowed to bring along as many people as I like."

"So there's no trouble with people sneaking in?"

"Oh none at all!" She says, "President Snow has very good security. There are guards as we go in, and one stationed at every window and door, and there are cameras in every room! Personally, I think it's a bit much- after all, we're all there to have a good time and I'm sure no one would act like district riffraff – no offence, dear- but I suppose he's the President and must be protected at all times."

"I suppose," I smile, before yawning, "Well enjoy the party, Gwen! It's in a few days time, isn't it?"

"Yes, dear. In two days time- very close to the Interviews! But I think it's time for you to head to bed."

"Yes, I think so, too," I murmur.

She pats my hand again and I let her go, "You've got a big big day tomorrow!"

I watch her leave the room and sigh. No way to sneak in, as expected. The only way in is as Gwen's plus-one. I'll have to convince her tomorrow night. If Cato and Clove don't murder me during training that is. 

Hi, it's been a while!

Not too sure about this chapter so let me know what you think! :-)