Haymitch sat in the bar, drinking whiskey and laughing with some of the other mentors. It was Chaff who noticed her first: a pretty little model wearing heavy makeup, a curly blonde wig with a huge blue flower stuck in the left side, and a pale blue dress that flared substantially at the bottom but stopped at her mid-thigh. Her heels seemed a mile high, and she trotted happily around, kissing the cheeks of anyone she recognized.

"Rumour has it that one's up for an escort position," Chaff told Haymitch. Haymitch rolled his eyes and shot back,

"What is she, nineteen?"

"Almost twenty," Chaff confirmed, taking a swig of whiskey.

"Nineteen almost twenty… she'll never get it. She's too young." Haymitch watched her chat happily away with District 4's escort; she was twenty years younger than her, but she seemed to be holding her own with the older woman very, very well, and 4's escort was known to be a shark.

"I don't know; she's pretty and veeeerrrryyy popular around here," Chaff said, continuing to eye the girl, "Anyway, if she does get a position, it'll be in your district."

12's escort was retiring that year after a five-year run; no one stayed 12's escort longer than that, mostly because Haymitch drove them crazy and 12 never produced a winner anyway. Besides, Accalia was fifty now—old by escort standards. But there was no way this child would get this position. Just then, though, Chaff slapped Haymitch's shoulder and pointed in the young woman's direction; a man—much, much older than she was—had come up and was calling her obscenely rude names in an obvious attempt to get her in his bed. He heard her yell,

"Excuse me sir! You will NOT talk to ME that way. That is RUDE and absolutely uncalled for! Now, get out of here! And if you EVER come near me or one of my friends again, that WILL be the end of you! Go on! Get out!"

The man, looking extremely humiliated, stumbled out of the room, obviously drunk. Everyone in the bar was clapping, and Chaff yelled at her "You tell him, love!" and was roaring with laughter.

"Oh no…" Haymitch said, burying his face in his palms. When he looked up, he saw the girl wiggle her fingers at him as she walked out of the bar.

"Well good buddy," Chaff boomed, "that sweet little thing will be yours to deal with next year. You better get ready for her; bitch don't play."

Haymitch groaned. He was doomed.