The Desert's Edge ➣ Gloss/OC

That hangs upon my shoulders like a weight.

Chapter Forty Two | That hangs upon my shoulders like a weight.

"O, I have bought the mansion of a love,

But not possessed it; and though I am sold,

Not yet enjoyed."

3.2, 26-28 Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

Gloss has been a part of the system for years now. He knows how things work in the Capitol. He knows all about the particular manipulation that Snow uses on his Victors. He understands the layers of it like he understands the facets of his own character. And, even more than that, he knows what sort of life Elara Winston lives. He knows it all, and yet he's still taken aback when he sees her sitting at a table with a man that is not him, sharing a drink and laughing as if everything in the world is exactly as it should be.

He hadn't come here on purpose – hadn't known that she would be here with a client. If he had, he would not have come to this neighborhood. He wouldn't have even left his apartment. Anything to save him from the sight of the woman he loves with some other man.

It's like his feet have a mind of their own as he stands there on the sidewalk, staring through the large windows into the dining room of the restaurant. His body seems to betray him with every second that passes. He just can't seem to move – can't look away from the scene that plays out in front of him even though he desperately wants to.

It isn't a strange thing, that her client would take her out. The men and women who buy the Victors love to flaunt them in public. They love to stake some social claim on them. It's a way to show everyone else that they have enough money and fortune to be able to hang out with some of the most well-known celebrities in Panem. It isn't as if Gloss is surprised by this. He knows that Elara sometimes goes on dates with these people. He's done it too several times. They can't very well say no.

Gloss isn't naïve or foolish when it comes to the Capitol. He's lost his idealism years ago, the moment he had stepped outside of his arena and was pushed into the dark underbelly of this revolting society. He's been tempered by this place for so long that sometimes, it feels like he is an extension of it; that he is no longer a man, but only Victor and nothing more.

He knows everything he needs to know about how this city works, but he still feels his heart do a nauseating flip in his chest when he watches Elara's client take her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. His jaw clenches down so hard that he nearly bites his tongue in anger. All he can think of is what other parts of Elara this man will try to claim, later on after this faux-romantic date is over and they get to the real reasons why this client has spent a small fortune on a night with the sarcastic Victor from District 5.

Images spiral through him, haunting him behind his eyes. Elara, in bed with that man. Elara, kissing that client the way she kisses him. Elara, being forced to bandy pleasure away like it is nothing more than a handful of coins tossed into a fountain. And, this man, taking those coins as if they are just pocket change.

Gloss grits his teeth hard, and despite his better judgement, he enters the restaurant. He knows he shouldn't get in the way of this. He knows what will happen if he does. There are consequences for these kinds of actions, and they don't just extend to the retribution of the Capitol itself. This will hurt him, and it will hurt her. He shouldn't do this.

He does it anyway.

Elara sees him first. It's hard not to notice Gloss Augustine, Victor from District 1. People stop and stare at him as they always do whenever they see a Victor. Celebrities of their caliber are like wild animals to Capitolies – they point and gape whenever they see one, as if they are rare novelties. Gloss is used to the attention. He's been a part of the system for too long now for it to bother him.