Trigger warnings: Bullying, Death of family member/friend, Public humiliation, Violence 

Strident chords sound from the violins in rapid succession as their players march up and down on the wooden tables. The large room is awash with noise and colour as dancers sway and onlookers chatter excitedly or stamp and clap along with the beat.

Festival season- the seven days leading up to the day of the Reaping- are the most rambunctious nights of the year in District One. It's a celebration of our endurance of hardships, our triumph over cruel winters and sweltering summers, and it's a time marked to take pride in our loved ones and our strength in each other.

It's also a time where we ignore the pain of what's to come. The great Hunger Games. It's supposed to be a celebration. Or, so the Capitol demands it. And, true, our District usually does very well.

But not all the kids come back. And the ones that do are changed forever.

I sigh, and my gaze falls to the sketch that I've done in ink on a napkin. It's a design for a new bracelet that I want to make. Each bead will have a secret compartment where things can be stored. At least that's the plan. I love making jewellery with multipurpose uses in my aunt's shop but I've never done something this intricate before. My aunt thought it couldn't be done.

"Glimmer! Another!"

A glass lands in front of me, and I swiftly cover up by sketch with my hand and pull me eyes back to the bar I'm supposed to be watching. Technically, I'm too young to serve drinks but my Ma and Aunt are run off their feet with the festival and there was no one to help but me.

When I look up to see who the customer is, I smile, relieved. "You aren't bored of the same?"

The woman in front of me- Daz- just shakes her head. She leans in close, running a hand through her short dark hair and winks a brown eye at me, "I know I shouldn't Glim, but your Ma's cocktails are to die for."

I shake my head, feigning disapproval. My hands move automatically to grab the right ingredients. I know pretty much all the drinks off my heart. Learning them is fun. Actually making them for hours on end? Not so much. But the music is pretty good, and the customers have so far not been too bad.

I watch as Daz flexes. It's amazing how casually she does it, and what's even more amazing is how she seemingly ignores the admiring looks coming her way. In her twenties, she's considered to be one of our best fighters. She was supposed to compete in the Hunger Games but her name got pulled in her last year and someone else volunteered.

Everyone said it was bad luck, though Daz hadn't seemed to have minded. Now she's supposedly marriageable age, and everyone- and I mean everyone - who's single has had their eye on her.

"Hey," She says, as I pretend that I haven't been staring and place the glass down in front of her. It's a red colour, icy with berries resting on the top. She slides the coins across and takes a slip from the straw before speaking, "Do you know who that guy is over there?"

I follow her gaze and freeze. The boy's brown hair is slicked back with way too much gel, he's dressed in a ghastly yellow suit, and is dancing completely off beat to the music with as much grace as a penguin on a pair of stilts. Unfortunately, I do know him. It's Marvel. A school friend that I've been working up the courage to ask out for the best part of the year.

"Um," I flush, "That's Marvel. He's too young for you."

Daz must see my expression because she smirks, "Oh don't worry, he's not my type." She leans in again, and pats my shoulder, "Someone needs to teach him how to dance though."

She winks and then moves away, swaying slightly as she goes. More glasses and demands are made of me. Most don't look at me or say my name as they make my orders. Ever since the incident, people like to pretend that I don't exist. Daz is one of the rare exceptions. And Marvel. I can't help but look at him as I make the drinks.

It's strange. I've had a crush on him ever since I was twelve. But he's not particularly handsome or brave or even funny. He's honest though and down-to-earth despite his attempts to impress his mother, and those are traits hard to come by in a District where everyone's showing off.

This year, I made him a gold wristband for his birthday, but when I got to his house, I saw that it was flooded with people and gifts, and I lost my nerve. It's still sitting in a box in my room, collecting dust.

A hand lands on my shoulder, making me almost drop the glass I'm holding. It's my Ma. As always, she looks beautiful- gold make-up accenting her dark skin and eyes, and a simple red dress falling to her knees. Radiant. The effect is ruined, somewhat, by the panicked look in her eyes, and dishevelled strands of hair slipping from her braids.

"Glim, have you seen Moonshine?" She asks breathlessly, "We need some help with the crates."

Moonshine. My cousin who loves to pretend I don't exist. I scan the crowd, instantly spotting him by the silver waistcoat he's wearing which matches his long dyed hair. He also likes living it up to his name. I wonder if he's put in his silver contacts tonight too.

"Yeah, I see him," I sigh.

"Great. Can you grab him? I'll deal with the drinks."

"Ma-" I protest, but she's already taken my place, smiling and chatting animatedly to the customers.

I sigh and make my way through the shouting and swaying customers. I have to duck to avoid being hit by a violin bow, as one of the violinists holds a rather long dramatic note, before launching into a quick whirlwind of a melody. I push through the dancers, earning some glares as I do so. I do my best to ignore them.

Moonshine is in the corner, drink in hand, grinning away to a girl I unfortunately also know. She's dressed in a tie-dyed blue and green dress, with her dark hair pinned back into a bun. Sapphire Burns, the Mayor's daughter.

As I approach my cousin, he spots me coming, and scowling, turns to angle himself so that he can't meet my gaze. I grit my teeth, and try to move round a couple, who are swaying and kissing each other with such force that I'm surprised they aren't already on the floor.

I'm a few metres away from Moonshine when he turns and pulls Sapphire onto the dance floor. He catches my eye, his mouth pressed into a thin line, before he spins her around the room.

I watch them dance, uncomfortably aware of the press of the bodies around me. They do a circuit of the room, and then another, and as they go to move past me again, I grab Moonbeam by his sleeve. He moves with such force that I'm pulled after him, knocking into another guy holding a drink, and spilling wine all over Moonshine and Sapphire.

The music's still playing, but for me, it's gone deathly quiet. Moonshine and Sapphire still and stare down at the ruined clothes, and I gape, my mouth unable to form the words that I want to say.

Finally, as they continue to stare, I say to Moonshine, "You're needed."

He doesn't reply but Sapphire reaches past him to grab me by the straps of my dress, "You- Why do you ruin everything?" She hisses.

Her face, usually happy and smiling, is contorted with rage. I wonder how long it took for her to make her dress. How long it will take to get those wine stains out.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, "I was just-"

"Shut up," Sapphire releases me, and I fall hard onto the floor. Her brown eyes are hard and wet with tears, "Just shut up. I hate you."

The words are a whisper but I can hear them, and realise that the music really has stopped now. I see the musicians gape, feel the weight of the stares onto me. I scramble to my feet and race out of the room. No one shouts for me to stop.

Ma's tavern and my aunt's jewellery shop face different streets but connect to each other with a series of back rooms. It is these rooms that I run through now. My vision is blurry with tears, but my hands and feet guide me to my bedroom, on the floor above my aunt's shop.

I head straight for my bed. My movement stirs up the pieces of paper of various designs that I have pinned to the walls, but none blow away. I do, however, dislodge a book lying on my bed, which crashes loudly to the floor. I don't move to pick it up. All I can do is stop myself from shaking and quieten the noises coming from my throat.

I only have a few minutes before Ma comes up here. Moonshine won't help, so she'll need me, and I'll need to stop crying and make myself presentable. But I don't want to go back down there. I can't.

There's a knock at my door. She's here already.

"Leave me alone, Ma. Please."

"I'm not her," A voice says, "But I can go away if you want."

I glance up. It's Sparkle, Marvel's younger sister. She stands uncertainly in the doorway, in a black and white dress.

"No it's ok," I wipe furiously at my eyes. She's the last person that I want seeing me like this, but Sparkle doesn't seem to care. She moves forward into the room, carefully stepping over various drawings that I have laid out on the floor and comes to wrap an arm around mine.

"Sapphire didn't mean it," She murmurs.

I shake my head, "No. She did."

                                                                                                      ***

The Incident happened when I was maybe five or six. As a child, I used to spend a lot of time playing with Moonshine. He acknowledged me then. But when I wasn't, I was tidying and cleaning in the pub, The Rising Phoenix, with my Ma, or helping my aunt sell jewellery. Both were the perfect places for gossip. Looking back on it, I know now that's why Ma and my aunt set up the shops the way they did. But back then, I didn't realise the importance of the information that was freely given to my inquisitive ears.

I met lots of people too. The poorest people in District One were the ones who collected the materials the rest of us needed to make the goods that would go on to the Capitol. They would come into the pub famished, exhausted and irritable at lunch, the end of the day, or sometimes first thing in the morning. The most wealthy jewellery makers would come on their days off with their families, and the Peacekeepers would come in at all hours. I hated the Peacekeepers the most. They would talk loudly, play cards, and drink until they could drink no more.

On the day of the Incident, they'd already been sat in the pub for some hours. Ma was in the kitchen at the back, but I was wiping the tables clean from where some families with young children had smeared food all over them. The Peacekeepers had ignored me at first, but then they'd started whistling at me, getting me to bring them snacks or things they'd deliberately dropped on the floor.

As I was on my knees cleaning the floor, one of them threw his grimy handkerchief so that it landed on my head, covering my eyes.

"Get that for me girl," A coarse voice bellowed, whilst hoots of laughter filled the room.

I took off the cloth to see them all looking at me expectantly and smirking. The one who'd thrown it was a pale man with a patchy beard and balding head. He was the same rank as the others, but his clothes weren't as patchy and creased my eye was drawn to a gold wristwatch he had half covered by his sleeve.

I walked unsteadily over and handed the handkerchief. My eyes were still on his watch, and he snatched the fabric from my grip.

"Get lost, girl." He snapped.

I didn't move. "Did you get that by stealing money from your boss?" I said.

His mouth opened in a round 'o' of surprise.

"What? He said finally.

"Your watch," I pointed, whilst the other Peacekeepers stared, "It's from fine material and it takes weeks to make something as good as that. It's expensive. Your suit doesn't look worn either. And I heard a Peacekeeper had been taking money."

I watched as he cast a nervous glance at a man who was wearing slightly different Peacekeeper uniform.

The man tried to laugh, "Where'd you hear that girl?"

...From Mr Smalud, who liked to get jewelled collars for his cats from my aunt, who'd said he heard it from Mrs Gogg, a dress-maker, who'd heard it from a Peacekeeper...

I didn't respond.

"Do you know what I think, girl?" He asked, rising out of his chair and towering over me, "I think you're a brat." He punctuated the word with a sudden slap, sending me reeling to the floor. I cried out, clutching my hand to my chin, "Who loves to lie."

He raised his hand to strike me again, but at that moment Ma had come running out of the kitchen with her frying pan. She glanced at me, concerned, and offered me a quick reassuring smile, before turning and planting herself in front of me.

"Touch her again, Douglas Dimer," She growled, "And you'll not walk for a week."

Peeping behind my ma's leg, I saw Douglas the Peacekeeper take a step forward. A hand grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. It was the Peacekeeper in the different uniform. His brow was furrowed.

"Come on, Dimer," He said roughly, "Let's have a chat."

As the Peacekeepers left the pub, Ma laid down her pan and lifted me into her arms. She smelled of cinnamon, and her words were soft as she whispered, "It's okay, Glimmer. It's all going to be okay."

But it wasn't going to be okay. Douglas Dimer was sacked for theft some days later, and vanished from District One. Talk went round that it was me who had caused it. A child that had looked deep into his soul and blurted out his darkest secrets. It felt as though I had vanished along with Douglas. People avoided me in the streets or stopped talking when they spotted me. And so, in this strange emptiness, I grew.

                                                                                            ***

My friendship with Sapphire Burns can only be described as a whirlwind that took me by surprise. The Mayor's daughter was wealthy, beautiful and adored by all. She could have had anyone and everyone as her friend. And yet she chose me: a nobody, a freak.

We were thirteen when we had our first proper conversation. My aunt was at the till and I was in the corner, putting some rings on display, but it was me Sapphire gravitated to when she waltzed into our jewellery shop.

"What are they?" She asked, pointing at the rings.

I showed her.

"Wow, they're pretty!" She made to grab them, but I shifted them away from her snatching fingers.

"They took days to make." I explained as she pouted, "You have to be gentle or you'll break them."

She frowned and watched as I carefully placed them one by one onto the shelf, "You make them?"

I nodded. She stared for a moment, and then outstretched her arms, "What do you think of my dress?"

I blinked at the sudden change of subject, but studied it as she twirled. "It's ugly. There are too many colours going on that it's hard to concentrate. You need to have less, or put them in a pattern."

She gaped at me, and as she did so, I heard gasps and muffled laughter. Turning, I saw her schoolfriends gathered in the doorway and saw money exchange hands, and I felt the blow as I realised she'd been dared to come and talk to me.

A few days passed before she returned, alone this time. I was hanging up necklaces my aunt had made, and she stood hovering in the doorway in silence.

Only when I'd hung up the last necklace, did I say, "It only takes one word to apologize to someone, you know."

I saw her flush, a gentle pink spreading over her cheeks, "I'm sorry. For the dare."

"It was cruel."

"Yes."

She was silent again, and then she took a step forward, "You know, you're the first person to tell me the truth. Normally, I just get compliments and flattery."

"Poor you."

Again, silence. Then she said, "Could you show me how you make those rings?"

I looked up, surprised, and nodded.

And so, in a way, we became friends. Every day after school, we'd go into the back of the jewellery shop. We'd design or start or continue crafting something. Or some days, plays cards, dress up, or make stupid concoctions from drinks in the bar.

Those hours were my happiest each day. I'd wait for them at school whilst she was with her friends and I was alone, watching the hours tick by until school had finished. And at night, I would lie alone, already missing her company.

We moved in different circles too. As the Mayor's daughter, she was always attending parties and conferences. In my free time, I continued to design, make and work and though people rarely talked to me, I still listened to the world.

I suppose that's how I found out about SPARK. It started when I was fifteen – some days after the 72nd Hunger Games. A group of tweens planned to rebel, and they met in various places to discuss their plans. Sometimes, it would be in the bar, other times elsewhere. Sparkle was part of it, and so was Sapphire's sister Amethyst. Their plan was foolish at best. They wanted to drop leaflets and postcards to recruit people to their cause, and to form enough of a force to take back District One from the Capitol. But words alone aren't enough to convince people, and in the face of fear or imposed adoration of the Capitol, the pamphlets went ignored or obstinately left where they'd been found. Until they were spotted by the wrong people.

The Town Square is right outside my aunt's shop, and Sapphire was with me when we saw Amethyst and her friends being dragged by some Peacekeepers. As they started to reel off the list of crimes, Sapphire started forward.

"Don't," I murmured, grabbing her arm.

"They're going to kill Amethyst," She hissed, trying to twist her arm free, "Let me go! They're going to- I need to-"

I clapped my hand over her mouth and dragged her back into the shop. She wrestled and kicked and bit but I held fast. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my aunt appear in the shop. She marched forwards and quickly locked the door, pulling the shutters down. From outside, we heard the gunshots followed by deadly silence, and only then did I let Sapphire go.

She collapsed onto the ground, screaming. I followed her to the ground, holding her shoulders as she gasped and gasped, each sob seeming to have enough force to split her in two. Finally, after an eternity of grief, she quietened.

"Amethyst." The name came out mangled and stuttered, "She was innocent. She couldn't have- why did they kill her? Why?" She twisted to me, grabbing my hands, the anguish clear in her brown eyes, "We could have stopped them! Told them she was innocent!"

"But she wasn't innocent," I said. Behind me, I heard my aunt shift and move to the kitchen, heard the boiling of water as she placed the kettle onto the stove.

Sapphire's eyes bore into mine, "What?"

I took a breath, "I saw her meeting with others. Saw them drop pamphlets."

Sapphire dropped my hands, "No. She wouldn't-"

"I'm sorry."

She turned on me then, her fierce expression centimetres from mine, hands grabbing my jacket and wrenching me towards her. Were we lovers, we'd have been close enough to kiss. Her brown eyes filled my vision, her hot breaths I felt on my face. But we were not lovers, we were falling friends, drowning in a world of hurt and pain.

"Why didn't you stop her?" She demanded, her voice choked and hoarse, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I...," I couldn't meet her eyes then, and I twisted to stare at the ground, "Don't know."

How could I tell her that she was my first and only friend? That I have never opened my heart to another? That I didn't know whether I could entrust her with the life of her sister and all her friends? That I, selfishly, didn't have the courage to cause her pain?

She pushed me away from her and got to her feet, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Everyone's right about you," Her voice was cold, "You're a freak."

She turned and wrestled with the key in the lock, before flinging open the door and racing outside. I watched her run away until I could see her no more. I sat huddled on the floor, my own bitter tears beginning to fall, watching the open doorway, waiting to see if she would return.

But the town square was empty, aside from the recognisable crouched figure of Sparkle, who'd come to grieve her fallen friends.

Now I lie on my bed, blinking away memories of Sapphire as Sparkle gently runs her fingers through my hair.

"She has every right to hate me," I murmur, "And you do too. I didn't stop them killing Amethyst, or the rest of your friends."

Sparkle's fingers still, "I don't hate you," She whispers, "I mean," I hear the choke of pain in her voice, "I didn't stop them either."

I reach out an arm, and Sparkle crumples beside me, pressing her face into my shoulder. I wonder what is worse- the Capitol, or people like me who chose to stand by- even when people like Sparkle tried to resist- and do nothing.

We lie on the bed in silence, staring up at my dusty ceiling and the scribbled designs around my walls, until Ma finally calls for me to come back down. 

Hi!

Phew! This was a long chapter! I promise the others won't be as long! 

Thanks for reading! What do you all think of Glimmer? And Sapphire and Sparkle?

Will try and update next Thursday!

Oh, and unrelated, but has anyone watched Attack on Titan? Been re-watching it and forgot how much I loved Krista and Ymir in season 2. When everyone is battling it out in the last few episodes, they're on their own side. Name a more iconic lesbian power couple in anime, I dare you. 

Actually, name any lesbian couple in anime and animation. I love She-Ra, Arcane and AOT and need more! 

Anyway, see you next week!

squirrelmonkey123   :-)