"Why, Haymitch?" Effie cried, throwing down her purse and storming angrily up to him. She was almost a head shorter than him, so she glared indignantly up at him and hoped that she was getting through his drunk brain. "Why do you hate me so damn much!? I'm nothing but nice to you!"
"I don't hate you, Trinket." Haymitch said patiently. "Not specifically, anyway. I hate the Capitol, and guess what? You're from the Capitol. Now leave me alone." He waved his glass of scotch at her, trying to fend her off, but Effie was undaunted.
"Why do you hate the Capitol?" she asked furiously. "The Capitol has done wonderful things for you, Haymitch! They reaped you and you won! You should love the Capitol, you should-"
"Love?!" Haymitch's calm tone was gone now, replaced with an angry shout that took Effie off guard. "I should love the Capitol? Are you… are you serious?"
"Yes!" Effie said hotly. "But you don't love anything, do you?"
"Take that back!" Haymitch screamed. But Effie just glared up at him, not speaking. Haymitch raised his hands, and they were shaking like dead leaves. For a moment, Effie flinched away, thinking that he was going to hit her. Then he huffed loudly and turned away. A vase was thrown across the room, sending water and white roses everywhere. The dark-haired victor roared in outrage, and the TV remote was thrown as well.
After the remote fell to the ground, batteries rolling across the pristine floor, Haymitch turned back to Effie. "You want to know why I hate the Capitol?" he asked. His calm tone was back, but this time, it was holding back barely repressed rage. "Do you, Trinket? You want to know?"
"Finally!" Effie growled in exasperation. "Yes, Haymitch."
"Alright." He crossed his arms, scowling down into her porcelain face. "First of all, I should not love the Capitol for reaping me. It ruined my life, Trinket. It ruined my whole goddamn life."
"But you're famous now!" Effie couldn't help saying, puzzled. "Everyone knows your name now, Haymitch! You were District Twelve's second victor!"
"I don't care. I never wanted to be famous." he continued. "But the Games, Trinket… they ruin you. You would never understand, though, would you? You were brought up in a place where the Games are something to look forward to. But I was brought up in a place where the Games are dreaded. District Twelve had only one victor when I was reaped, and she died of a morphine overdose years after she won. No one thought I would win. I didn't think I would win. I played it cool for the cameras, but really, all I wanted was to go back home to my family.
"And eventually I did. I went back to my family. But at what price? I couldn't sleep. The nightmares were terrible, Trinket. They… they still are." Pain flashed across his charcoal eyes. "And then, two weeks later, I was called to the Capitol. President Snow-" he spat out the name like it was poisonous on his tongue. "-wanted to talk to me. And when I returned, they were… My family was…"
"They were what?" asked Effie in a hushed tone, finally daring to speak.
"Dead." Haymitch finished. "They were dead, Trinket. President Snow killed them, because of that crap I pulled with the forcefields during the Games. But I never meant for any of that. I was just trying to save my own damn skin." He paused for a moment to run his sleeve across his eyes. They were glassy. Effie wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed. "So there. You wanted to know, now you do. I don't love the Capitol. I never will."
Effie was silent. "I… I never…" Her own eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry…" With that, she dissolved into sobbing, her head bowed.
Haymitch was surprised. Tentatively, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "You didn't do anything, Trinket." he said, trying to sound comforting, but just ending up sounding awkward. "It isn't your fault."
"But… the Capitol! Where I live!" She looked up at him, her light green eyes cascading with tears. "I never knew how… how horrible they are… and President Snow… I… I respected him!" Her lower lip quivered. "I'm a horrible person, Haymitch…" She stared down at her feet.
"No, you're not." He reached out and took her chin gently in his hands, pulling her gaze back up to him. "The fact that you're crying right now tells me that you're not."
She smiled, and sniffled, wiping her eyes. "Thank you, Haymitch. But you don't have to say things like that to make me feel better."
"But I'm serious." Haymitch said. "You care, Effie. Don't you."
"Yes." Effie replied. And then she looked thoughtful and added, "You called me Effie."
"That's your name, isn't it?"
"You never call me that." she remarked. "It's always 'Trinket' or 'Princess'. Never just Effie."
He shrugged. "Slip of the tongue, I guess."
But she smiled, and then he smiled, and before either of them knew it, they were hugging. As Haymitch wrapped his arms around her fragile form, he realized something. Effie might wear layers of makeup, and heels that reached for the sky, but she wasn't like the others.
She was different.
She had a heart.
end