In my mind.

One-Shot, Glimmer's death. If this is successful, I may do the Hunger Games from Glimmer's POV. "In my mind, I'll always be more than just a pretty face." Glimmer's POV. R&R. Clato and one-sided Glato.

Alright, I took this idea from a fanfiction I saw – but this isn't copied, I haven't read that fanfiction, I quite literally took the idea from the description of the fic "In my mind, I'll always be more than just a pretty face." If this is your fic, credit to you, the title has been changed and everything – I in no way own it.

I don't own the Hunger Games, all rights to Suzanne Collins.

Pairings: Clato, one-sided Glato.

I suppose you could call this a companion piece to my story "Born to Die." As it has mentions of some things from it, but this can be read alone.

Warning: Mentions of...You know...*whispers* S*x.

Enjoy :3

**Quotes from either my fic or the Hunger Games will be bold and in italics**

It had all happened so fast.

One minute I was propped up against a tree, fallen asleep on guard duty, whilst thoughts of home filled my dreams.

The next, gigantic buzzing...Things were attacking me.

Wretched screams plagued the entire camp as wasps shot around us. I couldn't see my teammates through these swarms of attacking insects...

Suddenly, pain coursed through my veins – nerve ends twisting, igniting as if they were on fire. I couldn't help but buck my knees and let out a wretched scream – what kind of wasps were these?

"To the lake! To the lake!" A voice that I could just about make out to be Clove's – if I strained my ears, Kelly – the District Four female – could be heard screeching:

"Net! My net! It's my token!" She was flailing around, but other than her and me, everyone had cleared out. Clove, Marvel and Cato...My Cato. He'd left me.

Battling the pain, I scampered to my feet. Come on Glimmer, you're supposed to win this thing!

Wasps...They were one of my biggest fears. Put me up against any tribute and I'd slay them without a seconds thought, no remorse – no pain. It had to be done. It was a way of life. But wasps...The mere thought of them made me shudder.

Now, here I was, surrounded by thousands of a twisted Capitol version of my fear – Tracker Jackers.

My feet were rooted to the spot in terror, no matter how hard I tried to move the buzzing would infect my coherent thoughts, forcing me still.

Seeing no other option, loosely I fumbled for my bow – dragging an arrow out of my quiver and launching them into the open air.

The shaft is far too big, all it does is not the bees back. If I used all twenty four – or rather, all fifteen now – arrows, I'd knock back what – twenty, thirty Tracker Jackers? That would do nothing.

A cannon fires, which gives me perfect view of Kelly's body – once so beautiful, lying cold and disfigured. The only piece of her former self intact; her perfect blonde hair – which fell in front of her eyes. Not far forward enough though, as pain and dread were still set in those sparkling deep blue orbs.

This is my end.

All my options exhausted, I screech my so-called 'boyfriend's' name.
"CATO! CATO!"

Nothing. Not even a plea for my safety. I should have suspected as much.

I try to fire three more arrows, leaving me with twelve, before I give up. Before I accept my fate.

I'm out of these Games. For good.

My knees buck, forcing me to the ground. The swarm poke and twist into my skin.

I don't know what I expected – or more, hoped for – for the pain to ease up? For it to lessen as I get used to it? From the first sting to the hundredth, if anything the twinge of aching pain grows – multiplying each time.

Sometime, I'm not sure when – probably just a couple of minutes, but to me it felt like hours – the Tracker Jackers leave. Probably to pursue my 'teammates' at the lake.

By the time they leave me, I know I'm past saving. My sight is already blurring, countenance distorted into a purple protruding pulp. Limbs disfigured and stiffened.

And, of course, the searing pain igniting my bones and enflaming my nerve system.

I let out a strangled cry, unable to properly scream. My heart wildly pounds, beating erratically against my chest. Clearly, my system is still fighting the venom – but it's useless. I'm a dead woman, out of these Games for good.

Something is moving me, but my eyes refuse to open. I'm not even sure if I care anymore. Quickly, I notice something heavy – my quiver – has been removed. I'm being looted, but it doesn't even bother me.

I allow my thoughts to wander, all the way to Cato – my 'boyfriend.'

What was our relationship to him? A joke. Probably. All my relationships have been a joke.

I'm just that pretty blonde girl with the flirty smile and early-blossoming curves. Does it even occur to the men that play with me as if I'm a Barbie doll that I'm innocent? A virgin?

No. Probably not. Every boy that has ever laid eyes on me has seen me as this dumb blonde with an amazing body.

Except for Cato.

Perhaps, like everyone else, he thought I was that dumb blonde. At first, I appreciated this – to have one person who didn't look at me that way.

But then I started to feel for him.

That was why I fell for him in the first place, because – under the muscle and large ego – he was a kind person. One who didn't prejudge.

When I suggested we date, I was ecstatic at his answer. Yes.

Clove awoke Cato – smiling.

"Hey sleepyhead,"

"Mphf." Was Cato's reply.

Clove grinned wider, her breath visible in the cool night air.

"Your watch," she reminded him – to which Cato just buried his head further into the ground. "I'll take an extra half hour if you want, but that's it," Cato shook his head – sitting up.

"No, that's not fair. I'm up, I'm up," he mumbled – drawing his sword. Clove nodded, slipping into her sleeping bag.

"Alright, see you in the morning."

Then I struck.

"Cato?" I smiled innocently once I was one hundred percent sure Clove had fallen asleep.

"Huh? Oh, hey Glimmer." Cato greeted, smiling that amazing lopsided grin of his.

Automatically, I went into flirting mode. The way I'd been taught to. Mother always told me 'the way to manipulate a man is to flirt with them. Do it right, and they'll be eating from the palm of your hand.'

"Hey there. So..." I got out of my bag and sauntered over to Cato, smiling almost suggestively.

"...I was thinking. You know fire girl and lover boy?" He nodded, looking disgustedly over at Peeta – who was lightly snoring in his sleeping bag.

"Well-" It's now or never, Glimmer, "-Their 'star-crossed-lovers' thing seems to be working out pretty well. As a way to pull in sponsors would you want to give their theory a go?" It took all I had not to stutter, because if I did – it would give away my real reason.

That I, in fact, love Cato. With all my heart.

"That was...Unexpected," Cato joked. "But sure, why not? Sounds cool,"

"Cool," I beamed, but on the inside I was soaring. Perhaps our motives were different, but still...

But now I realised...It was her. It was always her.

Clove Everett – Cato's District Partner. They were friends, extremely good friends, but the way Cato looked at her...Compared to me.

Perhaps our relationship was supposed to be fake, but he was always at Clove's side – always laughing, or joking, or comforting...Always with her. Never once did he look at me – his girlfriend – the way he looked at Clove.

I could never compete with the damaged green-eyed girl from District Two.

How ironic, that here I was – dying – reflecting on the one person I loved, yet the one person I'd never get, despite the fact I could get any other man I desired.

Perhaps that's what the world came down to. Love claimed and love lost – love captured, and love observed from the sidelines.

The pain is dying, light becoming brighter.
This is what my life has been deemed to be, worthless. But In my mind, I'll always be more than just a pretty face – I'll be a human being with feelings beyond the glamour.

With that final thought, my heart pounds wildly...But – as the cannon finally fires, my body taking a final breath – I remember that one thought:

In my mind, I'll always be more than just a pretty face

Crummy, but please review!