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━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━
JUPITER loathed the sound of the television in the mornings. The noise was often buzzing when she woke up, weak sunlight filtering in through her pale blinds and curtains she had nailed in to try and block as much light as possible years ago.
It was monotonous, as she woke up and doused her face with cold water, trying not to look at her reflection, moving back to her room and finally pulling up the curtains to expose the bleak view of District 2. She would then leave her room, dragging her feet and keeping her head ever-so-slightly turned down as she entered the open kitchen and main living area.
Inevitably and predictably, her mother would be sat on the lounge suite, practically chewing on her fingernails as she watched the Captiol's main channel, invested in whatever they had chosen to broadcast and yap on about that day. Jupiter couldn't stand the noise, or the music, or the way those people looked, but her mother was mostly harmless.
The last few months the TV had been nothing but the star-crossed lovers from District 12 and Jupiter's mother, Cassia, was eating it up along with the rest of the Capitol. Each morning since, Jupiter would awake to continued reports and gossip about the pair of Victors, something so unusual and tragic that no one could shut up. With their Victory Tour fast-approaching, the news was even more incessant.
Cassia Marrow did not acknowledge her daughter as she entered, moving around the kitchen in silence, eyes down and hands working quickly. Occasionally they would shake, and she would clutch at the shape around her neck, and then return to normal.
Monotonous.
Cold.
A routine.
"Jupe, dear," Cassia finally spoke up, not looking away from the screen. "Have you asked to attend the Tour yet?"
"No, Ma," she responded.
Cassia scoffed. "That Cato of yours was so close. But that girl on fire and her arrows... bad luck."
Jupiter only hummed in response. Her mother sounded as if she were talking about bets, about the outcome of sports game, not someone's life.
Her own Victory Tour poster was hung in the kitchen, her own eyes glaring down at her everytime she wished to feed herself. Her stylist at the time, a man named Gryphon, had adorned her in a red dress that went much too low, with gold accents wherever possible. Golden ear cuffs, golden rings on every finger, bangles, even thin lines of gold makeup running down her cheeks.
She had never liked the warm colours, even when everyone told her it was her colour and made her look the part she played. Jupiter hated that. Gryphon had been fired years ago, replaced by her new stylist, Lux, a woman with cool-toned dyed hair and piercing blue eyes. Jupiter had much preferred her style choice and had even come to consider her a partial friend.
