Haymitch Swallowed down another glass of wine as he slumped in his chair at the Mayor's house, ideally picking at the meal in front of him. He looked over as he heard the remarks from the guest of honor who sat at the table surrounded by a small cluster of the important people of District twelve as well as his prep crew, escort and a few on guard peacekeepers.
"I am sorry that I didn't help your tributes,… I just,…. Didn't want to die." His tone seemed solum as the 14 year old victor from district four looked down at his food. Their was an uncomfortable silence until his stylist laughed in a completely fake and dismissive way.
"Of course you didn't Finnick,… That is the point you silly boy!" She grinned around the table, side glancing at the cameras. The other capital people all seemed to catch on, depressing moods and sad faces where not highly valued television in the Capitol. They all laughed and talked about how sweet and gentle he was now but he had been so fierce in the arena. The Mayor and his wife nodded and smiled, their daughter, only hafe the boys aged said nothing and spoke to no one, instead moving food around on her plate.
"Really Finnick, you simply must not worry about apologizing to the people of these districts…. They aren't bad sports after all, they know that every year there can be only one victor… Isn't that right Haymitch?" The district four escort with the lime green wig and the bright purple tattoos coving her body turned toward the only living District twelve victor nonchalantly as she gestured in his direction with her glass. All eyes drifted in his direction. The Capital people munched their food casually as the Mayor glanced at him then to his wife whose brow was knit as she rubbed her temples. Her eyes drifted toward him, those same eyes of her dead twin sister who spent her last moments of life in Haymitch's arms at the 50th Hunger Games.
"Only one." Haymitch sighed as he looked away and took another heavy drink from his glass.
"There, see and he doesn't let anything stop him from having a good time!,….. Cheers to the many victors of the Hunger Games who so valiantly proved their worth over their fallen enemies in the Arena!" The escort chirped as she raised her glass with enthusiasm, as did the others in the Capitol. Slowly, with heaviness the mayor raised his glass as did Finnick and Haymitch who now locked with each other's eyes.
It was the first time Haymitch got a good look at the boy, who was a little more then half his age. He was a good looking kid, but he had already heard that talked about incisively during the games. No one gave a second glance at his two tributes, small, half starved Seam kids who never stood a chance. This kid was strong and healthy and as the games had proven very willing and capable of killing in self defense. He had made no alliances but had not gone out of his way to hunt any of the others either, instead just waiting until they found him and he was forced to take their lives. Haymitched gave him an appraising look and then a slight nod, letting him know that he understood. He knew the heavy heart of a victor and that his drink was not in celebration but in morning. For one so young, Finnick seemed very mature for his age and gave a subtle nod back with a hint of a smile as if relived and even comforted that at least someone else understood the guilt and sorrow left to settle on the shoulders of the victor. His mentor, an elderly victor name Mags rest a hand on the young man's shoulder as she fixed Haymitch with a steady gaze, not harsh or favoring, just studying.
"I am sorry,… I have a head ach!" The mayor's wife abruptly got up and excused herself with such hast everyone turned in surprise, except for her husband, daughter and Haymitch who didn't even look up to see her go, knowing the cause of her head ach was more accurately heart ach and grief over the callous comment made by the oblivious district escort.
After dinner there was a few moments of casual chatter and socializing before the guests headed for the car that would deliver them to their train. Haymitch sat outside on the steps holding a wine bottle in his hand as he blankly looked out at the night air still a bit warm. He was mildly surprised when he was joined by an unescorted Finnick who sat down next to him and looked up at the dark mountains that surrounded them.
"We don't have anything like this back home in district 4,… just the beach and the ocean." His voice was soft but an octave deeper then at the Games, must be about finished up with puberty. Haymitch smirked at the thought but then suddenly was seized by a notion, something he had mused about darkly while drunk and watching the games. He recalled the chatter of the Capitol people in the bar where he sat as they owwed and awed over the golden tan boy from District 4. It made him sick the way Capitol people looked at the district tributes as peisces of meat to be slaughtered, bought, sold and devoured by the masses for their twisted entertainment. Haymitch came back to his senses as he heard his name again from a puzzled 14 year old kid who looked at him questionly.
"I said do you remember the ocean from your victory tour visit to district 4?" Finnick asked slowly, as if thinking the man too drunk to understand. Haymitch nodded slowly, again looking at the innocent yet already aged eyes of the boy in front of him, one of the youngest victors ever,… but that would not protect him from his own beauty and the drooling perverts of the capitol. No one was going to tell him,… He had to be warned.
"Have they taken you back to the Capitol yet?... Offered you any special invitations?" His words where slurred and he sounded bitter and sarcastic even to himself as he chuckled and took another swig before handing it to the boy. Finnick looked at him with confusion.
"No,… but my escort said after the tour we were going back to the capitol because there where important people who wanted to spend time with me." Finnick answered, his voice cautious, obviously already uneasy about the situation but clearly unaware of the more implicit connotations. Haymitched sighed, even though he wasn't surprised he still felt a sick clench in his gut, knowing what awaited this boy who's beauty was his own curse.
"Do you know what they expect of you." Haymitch looked straight ahead, not wanting to see the reaction from the kid next to him when he broke the news.
"I don't… What,… What do you mean?" His voice was nervous now but he cleared his throat and his words were almost demanding.
"They are going to take you to bed with them." Haymitch sighed, trying to pick words less graphic then the truth which would be simply, your going to get fuck! There was a moment of silence before the teen spoke with audible confusion.
"What,… What do you…" He stammered looking at Haymitch. The older victor did not turn toward him but simply shrugged and passed him the bottle.
"You're a good looking kid and the Capitol LOVES their victors… They own us and you are gonna find out real quick that your life isn't going to be what or who you chose but who chooses you." Haymitch sighed again, taking the bottle and one last drink before handing it back to the silent boy who's head was down eyes on the ground and shoulders slumped. After a moment or two Mags walked out and took in the scene, a deep frown set on her face.
"Haymitch!... What did you tell him!" Her voice was angry but laced more with a deep motherly concern for her young tribute turned victor.
"Just thought he should know what awaits him back in the Capital." Haymitch said almost softly, with a pang of regret. He stood and turned to look down at Finnick who raised a pair of wet eyes, unblinking and locked on his own. Maybe it was the scared and lost gaze of the boy or the annoyed sigh from his mentor, but Haymitch felt a bitter smile grace his face as he snickered. "Welcome to life as a victor Kid,… good thing you survived the arena huh?" As he walked away he heard a soft whisper but didn't stop or turn around.
"But,… I have never been with anyone before." The words of the distraught youth where swept up with the wind as Haymitch stumbled away with a sad shake of his head.
…
It was six months later when Haymitch again laid eyes on the boy victor of District 4, Finnick. They where all there, the former victors of the Hunger Games, at their own special party hosted at a wing of the President's mansion. The victors where not alone at this party, accompanied by all the most prominent Capital citizens, Games Makers, Politicians and celebrities alike. There was also a guard of Peacekeepers at each door way and every window and of course the sad, muted Avoxs that brought out the large trays of endless food and drink. Each Victor was dressed in a costume of their district as was typical and Haymitch was in a tight fitting, glamorous version of a coal miners suite. He felt utterly ridiculous but what was knew. He nodded at the other Victors, many of them friendly acquaintances now after so many years of these ridiculous formal socials they were forced to participate in each and every year. Some of them he considered friends,... others, mostly the victors from 1 and 2 who where the most represented over the past several years, he had grown to despise, even hate almost as much as the Capitol people. They would gather around and cast bets as to who's district would have this years victor and would sneer and laugh out loud when someone joked by naming one of the other districts.
"Haymatch hung out next to the bar where he continuously filled his glass, glaring at the majority of the party until a fellow victor named Chaff came over to refill his own glass.
"Jus give me strait whiskey,… ain't got no use for none of dat sweat stuff!" He grumbled at the bar tender who nodded. He turned toward Haymitch and nodded in acknowledgement then stared hard at the gathering of victors from 1 and 2 who laughed, many hanging on the arm of one important capital person or another.
"I swear it's like they enjoy being passed around by the elite of the Capitol,… as if it makes them one of them!" Haymitch sneered gulping down his drink. Chaff nodded again then leaned in with a quite voice.
"They practically are the way I heard it…. Some of 'em,.. the real good looking ones stay here most the year, living with one… benefactor or another… Heard they even get encouraged to by their own people. Get told early on, 'Grow up strong and merciless, kill everyone and then when you get to the Capitol make sure you look real good and if you're lucky you can spend your life as a capitol whore. Eat, drink, play, get nice gifts and make money and all you need to do is spread your legs…" ChaffShook his head in disgust.
"Well, I guess they are good at fighting and fucking, I'll give them that!" Haymitch laughed bitterly.
"Speaking of which,… ya seen last year's victor?... Looks like he's this year's favorite play toy!... Bet it must make some of them careers jealous!" A victor named Ranger from District 10 laughed as he got a refill and walked off. Haymitch snapped out of his drunken, bitter stupor for a moment as he recalled the sad, hunched over child he had last seen on the steps of the mayor's house in District 12. Chaff must have seen the look on his face as he rest his good hand on his shoulder.
"It makes me sick what they doing to that poor boy, barely 15 and already being used by the Capitol." He sighed and shook his head as he slammed back his drink. "Days like this I am glad that amputees are not attractive to these Capitol freaks, but then, they get weirder and more perverted every year! He laughed and got another drink. "Who knows maybe they might even come for our ugly, wasted asses one of these days!" Chaff walked away toward some other victors as Haymitch blinked down at his drink.
With out any real conscious thought as to why, he strolled through the room, wanting to catch a glimpse of the boy, Finnick. He walked past a cluster of Careers and heard the callous laugh of Enobaria who was talking with the brother and sister Cashmere and Gloss.
"Oh, that's terrible!" She snickered as the other two smirked.
"Well at least it's not us,… from what I hear he is the sole entertainment for numerous parties these days… The Games makers even threw him a 15th Birthday party and the theme was black leather and blind folds!" Gloss giggled as her brother just rolled his eyes. "The poor little Whore from District Four!" She smirked taking another sip of wine.
"Guess he's lucky the doctors are so good here or else he'd probably have trouble walking!" Cashmere sneered but his comment held a degree of disgust more so then the amusement of the two females in his company. Haymitch continued past them with a sick, nauseas feeling and a deep anger. After a few more moments he came upon Betree, a man only a handful of years younger who won the games solely on his intellect. He stood and watched a small crowd of Capitol people who where all pointing and staring lustfully at the center of attention.
"It is just despicable What they are doing to that poor young man from District 4,… These people are all depraved!" Haymitch was surprised to hear a cold and hostile tone from a man who was normally so benign and quietly unassuming. Haymitch followed his gaze as it landed on the young victor whose green eyes where glazed and distant, staring at no one, as his head drifted from side to side, a dream like expression on his face. He was dressed in only a blue bathing suit that barely covered him, tight and revealing. His entire body was dusted with gold glitter and he wore a crown of sea shells. His arms were held by his stylist on one side and his escort on the other. All around him where Capitol people chatting as they none too subtly reached out to touch his skin, stroke his hair and even dip their fingers into his Speedo to pull back the hem and take a peek at his most private area. Haymitch stood there almost in shock having never before seen such blatant sexual manhandling of a victor in public.
"There was a time as I seem to recall that buying the company of a victor was a secret indulgence not discussed with others. It appears that even that notion of decency has vanished from the Capital elite." Betree mused out load with a sigh as he turned away. Haymitch wanted to follow him, to go find another drink and burry this memory like so many others but he couldn't. Finally the seemingly drugged, unsteady eyes of the youth wandered up until his gaze locked with Haymitch who met him with a sad but sturdy look. He nodded at the boy, offering what little sympathy he could though a frown and concerned, questioning look, as if asking, Are you okay?
Finnick looked at him with a puzzled look before pulling away from his chaperones and unsteadily walking over to Haymitch who stood fast, suddenly concerned for both their safety as all eyes drifted toward them. Finnick stopped in front of Haymitch and blinked as if trying to focus, his body swaying as his knees wobbled.
"Your Haymitch,… from District 12." His voice was slured and he shook his head as he laughed at himself before stumbling into the older mans arms. Haymitch caught him and held him upright, glancing around at the questioning faces and looks from the Capitol people.
"That's right,… are you okay?" His voice sounded strange to himself, his question dumb as the answer was obvious but he was at a lost for what to say.
"Where are we?" The boy's voice was groggy and as he reopened his eyes he looked down at himself and suddenly seemed uncomfortable in his skimpy attire. He looked up and all around, a confused frown on his face and a slight painc in his dilated eyes.
"Your at the Victor's Galla,… in the Capitol." Haymitch's voice was low with a warning that he should stay calm. But the response was more then he could take as a look of deep shame and embarrassment covered the young boy's face as he turned away, eyes wet. When he looked back up he was shacking slightly and his voice trembled.
"I want to go home. Please ask them to let me go home… I don't want anymore parties!... They are hurting me Haymitch!" His eyes where pleading and his hands desperately clung to the outfit Haymitch wore. Before the Victor from 12 could respond, his words trapped by hopelessness, Finnick's escort appeared at their side wrapping an arm around her victor and shooting Haymitch a dangerous look even as her voice was cheery and upbeat.
"Here you go my darling Finnick,… Open up and be a good boy,… your fans await your company!... You are after all the life of the party!" She took a small pink pill and quickly shoved it in the boy's mouth when he opened up to ask her what it was. Just as quickly she held some wine to his lips. "Good boy,… drink it down!"
As soon as the wine was empty an entirely different expression lit up the youth's face. His smile was sly and seductive as his grip on Haymitch softened to a playful tug. His eyes became even more dilated and glossed as he glanced around before coming back to Haymitch.
"Hi,… I'm Finnick,…wanna play!?" His voice was sleazy and suggestive as his fingers danced up Haymitch's chest to his neck. He bit his bottom lip and moaned suggestively as he leaned in about to kiss the shocked man before him
"Now, now Finnick my dear!" His escort laughed as she pulled the boy away from the other victor, there are so many people over here just dying to play with you!... Lets not keep them waiting!" She guided the dreamy and unsteady boy away back toward the Capital crowd before glaring at Haymitch over her shoulder and then over at the far corner of the room. Haymitch followed her gaze to the down cast eyes of Mags who stood like a woman in morning, head down and shoulders hunched. She looked up and caught his eyes, a look of deep sorrow and grief crossing her face. Haymitch jerked away before he could do something that would only make matters worse, heading strait back to the bar where he would drown out the knowledge of what he had just seen.
…
His head hurt but not as much as it should considering the amount he drank the night before. Opening his blurry eyes Haymitch groaned as he looked around realizing he was in a hospital room, but not a hospital. It was the medical wing of the building that housed the mentors and tributes. He sat up and looked at the IV's in both arms, helping him fight his hang over. He didn't have more then a minute before he saw her, Effie, ripping back the curtain with an angry, indignant glare, her mouth twitching slightly.
"You know Haymitch,… When you get that belligerently drunk at a social event such as the Victor's Galla it reflects poorly on all of us!... Now if you are done making a fool of yourself, trying to start fights with the other victors and vomiting on the dining table, I suggest you join your tributes on their floor,… they need their mentor!" She huffed as she stormed out of the room her heels clicking all the way. She paused for a moment at the soft sound of crying coming from one of the curtained beds, the only other one occupied. With a slightly uncomfortable and nervous shake of her head she continued on out the door.
It was her brief pause that brought the soft and subtle sound of the whimpers to his attention. Someone else was in this medical ward and they were crying. Haymitch stiffly stood up and disconnected the IV's then began dressing in the cloths left on a chair next to his bed. He stopped abruptly at the sound of an ugly but sing song voice that was whispering angry and hushed. It was accompanied by two sets of foot steps, one in heels the other rubber soles.
"Look, I haven't given him more then three pills a night,… but the effect isn't lasting as long and I suppose one of his,… benefactors must have given him another while in private… I am doing everything I can to follow your orders but there are some very powerful people pulling my strings and there is only so much I can do to protect him!" The female voice snapped. Haymitch knew immediately that the voice belonged to Finnick's escort, Maxis was her name. He clenched his teeth as he remembered the blurry memory of her drugging Finnick and his sudden transformation from a scared and tortured boy to a sexually charged and hungry young man.
"Protect him!" The new voice scoffed, male with less of a melodic tone. "Maxis you are not fooling anyone! We all know you have been desperate to climb the ranks of society and gladly offer up your victor to whoever you think will best serve your ambitions!" The doctor seemed more reasonable and justly outraged then Haymitch had ever expected from a Capitol citizen, especially one hired by the Hunger Games.
"I will have you know that it is my Job as his escort to book all of his appointments and not question who is making them. And since most of them come from high society I would be signing my own execution if I dared to refuse!... Something you should think about as well!" Her voice had been high pitched and dramatic but her last sentence was whispered like a threat. A long silence followed until the doctor finally gave a sigh.
"Maxis,… This drug is very dangerous and should not be used so frequently. If you don't stop giving them to the boy like candy,… there may be permanent psychological and emotional damage!" The doctor warned. "Not to mention the stress it is putting on his physical condition to… entertain… so many guests… His body is young and even with the rapid healing he is still in a very fragile condition... I will write a direct medical order demanding that the boy be given a minimum of three months rest or else I am almost certain he will be of no use to you or the Capitol within a year or two!" His statement was followed by another pause and then her grumbling voice as she stormed out.
Haymitch remained absolutely still as he heard the doctor linger. The new silence once more allowed the soft, broken cries of the victor in question to be heard. After another moment the doctor left and Haymitch released a long held breath.
As he walked toward the door his attention shifted toward the curtain surrounding the other patient. The whimpers where soft and the cries muffled. Without any real clear thought he walked over and pulled back the curtain, expecting and yet unprepared for what he found.
Curled up in a ball in nothing more then tangled bed sheets was Finnick, eyes shut tight as his body trembled, tears soaking his pillow and sweet coving his body. Sitting by his side was his mentor, Mags, who watched over him with tear stained eyes. She turned to look up at him and with a sigh she rose from her spot.
"They gave him too much of that drug last night… I found him shacking on the floor vomiting, his eyes rolled back with blood coming out of his noise." Her voice seemed distant as she gently rubbed his back that was covered in bruises, hickies and burn marks. "The Capitol people just stood there and watched as they waited for the doctors to come… I suppose they didn't want his vomit to get on their fancy clothes." She sighed again pinching the bridge of her noise as she stood up, then looked at Haymitch for a long moment. "My words fall on deaf ears, his shame is suffocating him and more painful then any physical wound or injury left by those disgusting creatures… He needs a man to tell him the truth and offer comfort!" She spoke softly but with conviction as she set a warm palm on Haymitch's cheek, her old eyes wise and kind but hollow with defeat and a resigned hopelessness. She turned back to Finnick who's face was buried in the pillow. Carefully she stroked his hair then kissed his head before exiting the room.
Haymitch watched her go before turning back toward the young man who seemed so small, curled up in his tight ball and shaking. Carefully he placed his hands on the slender boy's shoulders and couldn't help but grit his teeth at the marks that covered his upper body. His backside looked as if he'd been paddled. Haymitch called his name and the boy's groggy eyes opened as his voice cried out.
"Please!,…Please no more!" His boyish voice cracked as he clumsily tried to fight back, pushing away from the man who loomed over him.
"Finnick,… Calm down,… I am a Victor too,.. I wont hurt you." Haymitch's voice was horse but familiar enough. Finnick steadied his gaze on the man before him, his drugged mind placing the face but as recognition set in so did a new way of tears, this time sobs not just whimpers. Haymitch reacted in a way he thought he no longer could nor did he care to. He wrapped his arms around the boy and brought him into an embrace.
"I didn't want to, I didn't want to!" Finnick gasped between sobs, his body shaking as he first pushed away until collapsing into Haymitch's embrace.
"I know, I know,…." Haymitch held him and instantly felt dumb, wanting to say something, anything that could make this unbearable situation better for this boy. As the tears soaked threw his shirt the words came forth naturally, pouring out his mouth as he protectively held the boy. "It's not your shame Finnick,… It's not your shame… You are not the one who is to blame, they are… Don't let them brake you!... You are better than them,… stronger… Take back control!... Own it,… don't let them drown you,… swim through this!" He hoped the metaphor would help, knowing that for those in District four water was almost as natural as air. After a few more minutes Finnick pushed back, his eyes red and puffy but dry. Haymitch saw the embarrassment and shame wrapped around him and for some reason felt angry, almost aggressively hostile. He grabbed the boy's arm who flinched then used the other hand to lift his face.
"Look at me!... LOOK AT ME!" He practically shouted as he shook Finnick who's eyes jumped to his face in surprise, so lost and beaten. Haymich's face was the opposite, hard and determined and brimming with rage. "Don't loose your self to pity boy!... You have nothing to be ashamed of!... You just got to live with it,… learn to accept it and try to move past it." His words were strong and commanding, bringing the hazy, watering eyes to focus on his.
"How?" Finnick asked in a half sob.
"Distance your self from what they do and what they make you do,… just as you had to in the arena when you killed the others. After this game there will be another tribute, and another and another and eventually less people will demand you and turn to other fresh meat. Try to embrace what you have,… make use of it,…. Learn ways to make it hurt less,… make your self two different people, the one they take and the one you give to those you love. Keep that one safe and never show him to the capitol. They may own your body but you can control your mind, you can keep your self safe!" Finnick looked at Haymitch for a while, studying the man and contemplating his words. Finally with a quivering sigh he nodded and laid down.
"I'll try." He said softly into his pillow. Haymitch patted him on the arm and stood up. As he turned to go he heard a question, soft and meek.
"Does it get easier?" Finnick asked with a shaky breath as he stared blankly straight ahead. Haymitched paused for a long moment before answer with a sad shake of his head,
"No, but you start to get numb,.. and then you stop caring… and do what you can to stop thinking… and if your lucky,… eventually it wont even matter anymore." Haymitch left and wondered if his advice was true or just a lie that helped him get through his own person hell day after day.