Haymitch was drunk. And that was something he hadn't been in a long time. He long ago had promised her that he wouldn't drink as excessively anymore, meaning he hadn't get drunk since then. And now she was gone. Not forever, he hoped, he knew as he was going to get her back, but she was still gone. She was the only person he'd ever genuinely cared about, and now she was kidnapped, and he didn't even knew by who. He would've known was he sober, but as he wasn't he didn't know. He was all alone in the big bright-colored house that belonged to her.
The she in question, being Effie. And as Effie opened her eyes she found herself in a dark room. Unfamiliar voices in her head, though some seemed slightly familiar as well. Mostly their accent though, the same accent she had. The rebellion had won, to everyone's, or almost everyone's, happiness. The people that weren't happy with it? People that wanted power. Wanted to recreate the Hunger Games, wanted suffering in the country. And even though they probably would never win, now they'd kidnapped her. This was bad. The only thoughts crossing her mind at first, then someone in a black suit walked up to her. I wish Haymitch was here to protect me. The second thought crossing her mind.
She was supposed to be with Haymitch at the moment, but she'd woken up early to arrange a surprise for him. She was going to ask him to marry her, after five years of dating. Of course she normally would have waited for Haymitch himself to do so, but she was impatient. That said, she also had been waiting since about a year after they started dating. And so she had everything planned out, like she always had everything planned out, but just as she was getting back to wake him up.. She got hit on her head. Knocking her out. And then she woke up at the exact place she was now. The black-suited man, as she could see now, smirked as he sat in front of her. "We're going to have some nice talk." He said, emphasizing the last words. Effie gulped softly.
But the kidnappers hadn't left Haymitch with nothing to worry about, so he just thought that Effie would get back in a few hours. Of course they hadn't, they wanted him to be desperate, and they succeeded in that mission. They gave him one message, three words written on a small paper. She is dead. He didn't want to believe it, but he did at first. Now he was drunk, and could think properly, he knew she wasn't dead and what the purpose of the message was, that it actually succeeded. He growled softly as he stood up. He was going to save her, preferably fast, but he couldn't do it alone. He needed help. Which he could only get from people he trusted.
The only people he really trusted, except for Effie, were Katniss and Peeta. Luckily, they remained his neighbors as they'd been since the ending of the 74th Hunger Games. He moved to the door, almost falling but holding himself up against the door. "Hng.. Only problem of being drunk.." He mumbled to himself and managed to open the door, only to find the sun shining brightly in his eyes. He grunted and closed his eyes, blindly making his way to the house next to his. Before he could knock, the door was already opened. And Peeta stood there, a strict look on his face. "Since when do you drink again, Haymitch?" A small undertone of concern covered his voice as he let the man into his house. This was bad."