"That's too much sugar." My brother scolded as I filled my measuring cup a few ounces more than I needed to.

I grinned. "There's no such thing as too much sugar!"

"You're not following dad's recipe though!" he whined. Oh Sebastian, such a perfectionist. I chuckled, ruffling his dirty blonde hair.

"That's just a guide line, short stack. We're making our own recipe!"

"What you're doing is giving everybody diabetes." Bash teased. My 12 year old brother was always playing it safe. That's probably why he's a better baker than me, he's so much like dad.

I just do whatever I think will work on a whim. Luckily, my instincts are usually right. I guess that's why I'm a better hunter than Bash. I get that from my mom. I hate to admit it, but I get a lot of things from her. Like her dark brown hair, and her stubbornness. I've got my dad's blue eyes though, and Bash got her grey ones.

I get along a lot better with dad. Me and mom just clash. We can never agree on anything. Hunting is basically our only bond. We can just go out in the woods and hunt for hours on end in comfortable silence. That's what works for us.

Bash talks to her about stuff though. They have a much better relationship, he's such a momma's boy. I tease him for it, but he says I'm the same way with dad. I can see it, though. After school I go to the bakery and help dad out. And we just talk all about our day, and discuss life. I can tell dad just about anything. I've just never felt that connection with mom. I don't mind though. There is one thing I can talk to her about that I can't with dad.

The Hunger Games. I learned about it in school when I was 11. It was this big thing, where once a year a boy and a girl from every district would get picked to go to the capitol and basically fight to the death until only one victor remained. That is, until the 74th one, where my parents made history.

Mom and dad knew of each other, but they never really officially met until they were both in the games. It came down to the two of them, and instead of killing each other, they pulled this stunt where they were both about to eat these poisoned berries, and there'd be no victor. So they called it off and let them both win.

My mom had unintentionally created an uprising, she was a symbol for hope in a war that had been building for years. She led the rebellion as the mockingjay. Then, to put an end to what she had started, the president, Snow, brought them both back for the quarter quell, along with all the other victors from other districts.

They swore there'd be no alternative way out of this one, but their mentor, Haymitch Abbernathy, had different plans. He broke my mom out, but he couldn't get to dad in time, and the capitol captured him and held him hostage.

They tortured him for months, and brainwashed him to believe my mother was a mutt, something genetically created by the capitol to hurt you in the games. When they got him back, he tried to kill mom. But she fought for him, and she helped him get through the fake memories, telling him about the real ones.

She says he used to have flash backs all the time, he'd have to struggle to fight them off. But it's much better now. He rarely has them, and when he does, it only take him a few minutes to snap out of them. But me and Bash know to never talk about the games in front of him.

I went through a phase when I was really fascinated to learn about the games when I first learned of them, and I used to ask mom to tell me what happened all the time. I know she still gets nightmares sometimes, but she doesn't mind talking to me about the games as much, as long as it keeps me from going to dad.

So at least we have that.

"Lily? Helloooo." Bash snapped his fingers in front of my face, trying to regain my attention.

"Huh?" I asked, snapping out of it. He just shrugged, knowing how often I zone out, getting lost in my thoughts.

"For a 16 year old girl, you have the attention span of a 3 year old." My brother chuckled. "I said could you crack the eggs? I always get little bits of shell in the batter."

"Watch and learn, little brother." I grinned smugly, grabbing an egg in each hand, tapping them lightly on each side of the bowl, and opening them enough to let the eggs slip out of the shells and slide in smoothly.

"I can never do it like that! The eggs leaks out as soon as I crack it."

"It's all in the wrist, little man."

He shot me a playful glare. "I'm like 2 inches taller than you now!"

"Keep dreaming!" I said, straightening up. He still had at least an inch on me. Damn it.

After we scooped most of the batter out into the cake plan, Bash told me to get the mini cake pan out too.

"What for?" I asked as I routed through the cabinet for it.

"So we can taste test it without messing eating it from the bottom like last time." Bash explained, and I laughed, remembering how we finished off the last cake we made our parents, just leaving the outside for appearance.

"Smart thinking."

As the cake baked in the oven, we worked on our home made frosting. That was Bash's specialty, but I helped, too keep it extra sweet. We always baked our parents something for their anniversary, and for dad's birthday, too. We let dad handle it for mom's, cause we know she secretly prefers his baking to ours. But I don't mind, I'm everyone's favorite cook.

There's something satisfying about catching dinner and cooking it, too. Mom can catch it, and dad can cook it, but I can do both pretty damn good, and I'm proud of myself.

Bash has tried his hand at archery, but he's left handed, so it's harder for mom to teach him. He gave up on it all too easy, though. He could've got the hang of it if he practiced enough.

He's a great painter though, like dad. He's like a little mini-dad. Some people say I'm the same with mom, that I'm just like her, but I don't see it.

I'd never say it out loud, but I think my mom is kind of a coward. She had so much power to change the world, so many people would have stood behind her, but she just wanted to take her family and run away. She didn't care what happened to anybody else, about the people who couldn't just pick up and run. She just wanted to protect the ones she cared about. I can sympathize with that, but I still find it cowardly.

She should have fought harder, showed them they couldn't control her. But it all worked out in the end, I suppose. So I can't hold it against her. She did end up losing her little sister, Prim, in a bombing attack on the capitol. One apparently caused by her best friend, Gale Hawthorne. That's gotta hurt.

But he moved to District 2 soon after, without so much as a goodbye. And mom and dad were left to pick up the pieces, and mourn over everyone they lost. They named me Lily Primrose Mellark, in honor of my aunt. That's why I don't mind it so much, even though I hate flowers. They're so fragile and girly. But hey, it's just a name.

We tried our sample cake when it was done, and it was delicious. Some might confuse it with something my dad made, if they didn't know the extra bit of sweetness was my trademark. We coated it in icing, and Bash helped me mix the icing to be forest green on the sides, and we painted a sunset on top, my parent's favorite colors. He wrote Happy Anniversary on it, since he had better writing. Mine was chicken scratch on paper, and not much better on desserts.

Mom came home from hunting earlier than expected, and we hid our masterpiece till Dad came home from the bakery.

Me and Bash ate earlier, so they could enjoy their nice romantic dinner alone. When the phone rang, I rushed down to answer it, so it didn't interrupt them.

"Hello?" I said.

"Katniss?" The shrill capitol accent replied. I rolled my eyes.

"No, Effie. It's Lily."

"Oh! My goodness, dear, you sound more like your mother every day." She giggled. Not that she'd know. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing her in almost a year. Not that I'm complaining. Effie's heart is in the right place, but God is she annoying. "Is she there? Or Peeta?"

"They're having dinner. Can I take a message?"

"Just please make sure they watch the capitol announcement in 10 minutes. I hear it's very important."

"Alright, thanks." I say, hearing half of her chipper goodbye before I hang up. I grin, knowing she'll be annoyed I didn't say goodbye. Manners are everything to that woman. I usually have good manners. But above that, I like to mess with people.

"Who was that?" Bash asked, coming down stairs.

"Effie."

His eye brows scrunched together. "What did she want?"

"Apparently mom and dad have to watch something on TV. Come on." I said, heading towards the dining room.

We found mom eyeing dad suspiciously as she tasted the cake. Dad was grinning. "I swear, I had no part in it. It was all the kids doing."

I cleared my throat, getting everyone's attention. "Sorry to interrupt. Effie called."

"You're not interrupting." Dad said, while mom just looked at me, trying to read my expression. "What did she say?"

"She wants you guys to watch the capitol announcement that's coming on. She said it's important." I told them.

They shot each other a look, then nodded, getting up and coming in the living room to wait for it. They didn't even finish their cake. I wondered what it could possibly be about.

Mom and dad sat together on the couch, holding hands, while Bash sat on the other side of mom. So I sat on the other side of my dad, and he put his arm around me, shooting me a reassuring smile.

But I could tell everyone felt nervous about whatever was coming. We were all clueless, and that bugged me. It could be anything.

We didn't have to wait that long. Soon the capitol seal was on TV, and everyone's eyes were glued to it. The current president, Victor Warther, appeared, his expression unreadable. Still, there was a joyful glow to his eyes that made me feel uneasy. Warther wasn't that bad, nothing like that Snow, I'd heard about. But I still didn't like that guy. He always looked like he had some hidden agenda.

"These last few years, we've been lenient with the laws and enforcement, depending on the district citizens to account for their behavior and do what's right. But lately things have been getting out of hand. So as a reminder that your actions have consequences, this year, we will be bringing back peacekeepers to the districts to keep everyone in line." Said Warther.

I looked at dad to see him frowning, and looking at mom to see if she was okay. She didn't seem happy, but she did look a little relieved, like she had been anticipating something worse. And Bash…well he just looked confused.

"One more thing," the President said, his voice slicing through the tension in the air like a knife. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling really nervous and having no idea why. I just had a bad feeling about this. "This year we will be bringing back an old tradition as a sentimental remind of the way things used to be. We will be hosting the 77th Hunger Games!"

Everything was blurring as my thoughts raced. There was a murmur I couldn't make out coming from the TV. Mom was sobbing. Dad looked like he might cry himself, and I swear his eyes were starting to freeze over in a flashback, but his arms were around mom, trying to comfort her. Bash was confused, asking what he meant by that. And me? I don't know what I was feeling. Numb, mostly. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and got to my feet, running outside as fast as my feet would carry me. I heard dad calling after me, but I didn't care. I needed to get out. It felt like there was a lack of air in my house that was suffocating me.

I was tempted to keep running…to go to the woods and run through them until I was calmed down. But it was freezing out, and I didn't even have a jacket on. Mom and dad would be furious. Before I knew I was going there, I ended up outside another house in Victor's Village, and I was opening the door.

"Well look who it is." He chuckled, taking another swig of liquor straight from the bottle. "Can't say I'm surprised to see you here, sweetheart. Your mother did the same thing before."

"Haymitch." I sighed, exasperated, going to join him at the kitchen table. He hasn't had a drink in weeks. I guess it's safe to assume he saw the announcement. In fact, I can still hear it on in his living room.

"A boy and girl tribute shall be reaped from each of the 13 districts, as well as the capitol."

I shook my head, tuning it all out, and looking back at Haymitch. He did win the games, and he mentored my parents. He saved their lives, after all. He may be a drunk, but he was one hell of a genius drunk. He had to have had a plan.

"Are you here to judge me all night?" he scoffed as I eyed the bottle in his hand. "Or do you expect me to tell you everything's gonna be just fine? Cause either way you're shit out of luck, kid."

"I came for a drink." I said, taking the bottle out of his hand and pouring it down my throat, ignoring the burn as it went down.

"Just like her." He chuckled, amused. I rolled my eyes. It's not the first time I've come here to drink. Though it's pretty brave of Haymitch to let me, after my dad gave him a black eye last time, when he caught me over here. Then again, I think he's more scared of me than dad. Haha that's pretty funny. "So I guess you know how this is gonna go down."

I nodded. "It'll probably be rigged. They wouldn't let the chance to bring the little mockingjay into all the action slip away."

He shrugged. "It's possible. Be prepared for it, but it's not definite."

"No matter what, just be straight with me. I can take it." I said. "I'm not gonna freak out, I know it wouldn't help anything."

"You're one tough kid, you know. You got the best of your mother and father in you." He told me.

I nodded, not sure what to say. I wasn't used to Haymitch being all mushy like this, it scared me a little. I like our bickering smart ass relationship. That's how it always was with my God-father.

The door swung open and in came my dad, red faced and panting. His eyes widened in relief when he saw me, then they narrowed in aggravation as he stomped over to us and sat down.

"I should have known you'd be here." He said, taking the bottle out of my hand and sitting it down on the table, just out of my reach. His face softened, then he opened his mouth to say something.

I glared at him halfheartedly. "Don't sugar coat anything. I know I'm probably going in."

Dad frowned, looking defeated. His eyes were glassy, like he had just gotten back from a flashback before he came in. Then he shocked me and Haymitch by grabbing the bottle and taking a swig of it.

I grinned, it was funny to see my dad drink. Even if it was just to drown himself in his sorrows, he lightened up a little after that. The three of us even managed to have a few laughs.

"Remember your bachelor party?" Haymitch said, grinning deviously at my dad.

"Barely, by the time you were through with me." Dad laughed. That's right, laughed. I was grateful for tonight. I might not get many more opportunity's to see him like this. Plus, he was so tipsy from not drinking in so long, that he hasn't even noticed that I was on my 3rd glass of whiskey. "Didn't I keep trying to get to the bakery to make a Katniss cake?"

"You what?" I laughed.

"I wanted to make a sculpture of your mom out of cake, like a life size replica, for the wedding." He chuckled.

"When I locked him in, he settled for finger painting her out of the chocolate syrup we spilled on the floor." Haymitch explained, grinning widely.

I raised my eye brows. "Seriously? Chocolate syrup?"

"Drinking game." Haymitch shrugged.

"No hot chicks?" I asked.

Dad shook his head frantically. "Of course not."

"Your dad wouldn't allow that. And your mom woulda had my head for it." Haymitch slurred a little.

I grinned. She really would have. Speak of the devil…

"You can not be serious right now." Her voice was deadly, and all 3 of us froze, staring at each other in panic.

"Honey-"

"Don't 'honey' me!" she snapped at dad, marching over to the table. Dad jumped to his feet, losing his balance for a second before grabbing the table and steadying himself. She glared at him. "Look at Lily! She's drunk! I can't believe you would just sit there and get drunk with our teenage daughter."

"Come on, Katniss. You did-"

"No, Haymitch. You, I can believe, but Peeta, you should know better." She said, and dad hung his head in shame.

"Lighten up, mom. They were just having fun." I told her.

"You're 16 years old! You are too young to be 'having fun' by getting drunk." she said looking down at me.

"And you weren't?" I shot back.

She glared at me for a moment before pulling a chair over and sitting down beside me, grabbing my glass and downing it. I grinned. And the four of us had the best bonding session we have in a long time. It was stuff like this I was gonna miss.