She walked down the long corridor, positioning her luminous wig as she did. Her feet were quite sore, and her dress was heavy, but she was used to this, and she endured it everyday, to look decent. She thought of the way Haymitch never fully appreciated her appearance, or her work, really. She turned, into the elevator, and pressed the buttons with her long fingernails. She wondered if Haymitch... Talk of the devil. He strolled into the elevator, only inches apart from Effie, his drunken stupor making him lean slightly forwards, his eyes unfocused. As they started their descent, the elevator awkwardly silent, Haymitch grunted something unintelligible.

'What was that?' She asked, looking expectantly at him.

'I said everything's going to change now.'

And Effie could do nothing else but agree. Everything has changed. Everything is going to change. She felt so sorry for Katniss and Peeta. The torture of facing another treacherous Games was never just a coincidence. She had already started to doubt and even look down upon the city she had grown up in, for the luxury was so contradicting to the poor districts.

Her musings were interrupted by Haymitch shuffling out the elevator, his head bent slightly. Snapping into action once again, she followed him out, her heels clicking on the polished floor. She was always quite nervous around Haymitch, for no one never really knew what state he would be in. Mostly, in a drunken one, but she had also seen a caring, and helpful side to him, that was brought out by Katniss and Peeta. She walked over to the table, laden with foods she recognised instantly, from her luxurious upbringing. She had always forgotten that Haymitch originated from District 12, he was so used to the grandeur of the Capitol. She wondered how many people would disapprove of loving a district-originated person. Not that it would happen to her...or not that she would care...

She took a seat, trying to avoid eye contact with Haymitch, who sat diagonally across from her, still trying to wake himself from his alcohol consummation. She ate tentatively, the room deafened in silence as they all sat there, gloom in all of their eyes. She saw Katniss neglecting her food, and Peeta only taking the smallest of mouthfuls. She herself finished, and everything was still silent, threatening to become permanent. Effie felt as sad and miserable as they all felt, and at a lost for words. She usually spoke the most at dinner, though she couldn't bring herself to say anything. She remembered when she was sat there, watching President Snow deliver his speech and announce the daunting Quarter Quell twist. When she had took in what he had said, she grew most agitated, shouting at the screen as if she was arguing with the President himself. Once she had calmed at least enough to think, her heart broke. Her heart literally broke when she realised Haymitch was one of those victors. She knew Katniss would have to face the Games no matter what, as she was the only female victor. But either Peeta or Haymitch would have to go back. She had heard that when Haymitch saw the announcement, he threw liquor bottles at the President's snake-like and evil (she had realised) face. She couldn't help but smile when she was told that.

When she unraveled that piece of paper at the Reaping, with the name 'Haymitch Abernathy' her heart leapt to her mouth and her stomach somersaulted. The pain struck her hard, for she realised he would never come back. She swallowed back the tears that were eventuating. She looked painfully into his eyes, the composure she held lost in that moment. But Peeta volunteered. She couldn't explain how relieved she was when he did, much to Haymitch's protests and Katniss' looks of pain. She recognised the pain on Katniss' face to the pain that displayed her face seconds ago. She loved Peeta like he was her own son, but she couldn't help the relief flood through her when he volunteered, much to her guilt. Haymitch would still be part of the team, as a mentor. He had always been a mentor. She was determined to prove to the Capitol that they were a team, to show them how strong they were, despite their misery.

That night was awful. She was pained to see Haymitch shouting and threatening, ranting and pacing back and forth in an animalistic manner, the liquor bottle swinging freely from his hand. Yet even in a rage he was still so...

Her mind whipped back to her surroundings, for she realised she had been in a stupor. She looked confusedly at the chairs opposite her, and realised that they weren't any longer occupied. It was just her and Haymitch. She looked at him, his bright blue eyes looking despairingly back, and she thought of the ranting Haymitch, shouting and pacing and broken. It was like someone had replaced his sarcasm, his humour, his care behind, and left a look-alike, despaired and lost. With that thought, she stood up from the table, lingered there another awkward second, and paced briskly out of the room.