A/N: Hey guys! I know its been kinda long since I last uploaded a story, but I've been soooooooo busy with school work. Plus, my dad grounded me because I didn't do so well this term in school (nevermind that I got 6th in class, out of 40 students!). But hey, dads will be dads, right?
Anyway, I'm writing this for the Weekly Karoke Challenge on the DWAC forum. These days, I've been writing pretty much everything for one challenge or another, since it keeps me writing. In any case, the artist for this week is P!nk/Pink, so I'm writing this song fic based off her song Raise Your Glass.
Also, special thanks to my mega-awesome beta, skylarkdreams, for reading through this and editting within about 15 minutes last night. LOVE YOU HAZEL!
Enjoy! :)
Raise Your Glass
Lights, lights, turn off the lights.
We gonna lose our minds tonight.
What's the dealo?
Haymitch and Chaff stumbled into the District 12 suite, arms drunkenly slung around each other.
"For Panem's sake, someone turn off the freaking lights!"
Haymitch flicked at the light switch several times, but soon gave up and took to throwing an empty glass bottle at the light bulb. It shattered into shards on the carpeted floor, and the room sank into a comfortable darkness.
"Ah, that's much better man."
"Yeah, its all good. Just too bad all our kids died."
"You're one to talk! Your District Eleven brats got a fighting chance at least. That last kid lasted a whole 3 days longer than the rats I got."
I love when its all too much.
Five am turn the radio up
Where's the rock and roll?
"Enough talk man. Its too quiet in here. What you say we put on some music?"
Haymitch fumbled for the remote on the coffee table that seemed a thousand miles away from his comfy spot on the couch. Groaning, he stretched out a hairy arm, and grabbed the remote by just the tip of his fingers, rolling over onto the floor. He punched in a couple of buttons, switching from a classical music channel, to the pop teeny-bopper CD that Effie left in the player, and finally to his rock channel of choice. He lay back down on the floor and shuffled himself until he was comfortable, or as comfortable as a man his size could be while wedged between the couch and the coffee table anyway.
He and Chaff lay in silence for a moment, but their peace was soon broken by a loud shriek from down the hall.
"HAYMITCH ABERNATHY! What is the meaning of this?"
The lights flicked back on, only to reveal an enraged Effie Trinket, the expression on her face odd when compared to the shimmery pearl pink nightgown that covered the rest of her body.
Party crasher, penny snatcher
Call me up if you want gangster
"Get up, both of you, get up right now and get your filthy arse in the shower!"
"Come on Effie, babe, don't be such a party-crasher, yo!" Chaff grumbled from his spot, sprawled on the floor, half leaning on the shoe rack by the door.
"Shut your mouth, you… you… gangster!"
"That's right, homey. You know who to call when you want a taste of this gangster bod."
"Filthy! Filthy filthy filthy! Get out Chaff!" Effie punctuated every word with a firm whack of her diamond encrusted purse on Chaff's head.
"Ow, easy lady. You're damaging the goods here. Babes like to see my pretty face!" Chaff grinned widely at that.
"You get out of here, Chaff Williamson, or I am going to stab you in the eye with my Prada stilettos. I am not afraid to use it."
Don't get fancy, just get dancey,
Why so serious?
"Whoa there, Effie. No need to get all fancy with Chaff. Man like him won't appreciate nothin'," Haymitch shouted over the blasting music, where he was dancing like a fool, "Come over and get dancey, woman!"
At Effie's murderous glare, he turned pale.
"Okay, okay, just kidding! Why so serious, sweetheart?"
So raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways.
All my underdogs, we can never be never be
Anything but loud and nitty gritty,
Dirty little freaks, won't you come on and come on
Raise your glass
"Serious? Serious? For Snow's sake, Haymitch, I'm not serious, I'm just conscious of your reputation!" Effie shrieked, her voice rising in decibels for every syllable she enunciated through her glossy salmon-coloured lips. "Have you heard what people have been calling you behind your backs? They're calling you loud, and nitty gritty. They're calling you dirty little freaks!"
"Nah, you've got that wrong Effie," Haymitch declared boldly with a smirk, raising snickers from Chaff, "They call us that to our faces too."
"I will not have my District called 'dirty little freaks', do you understand me?"
"Chill out, Effie," Chaff chimed in, "We'll all never be anything but underdogs. We're just all wrong, in all the right ways."
"I'll raise my glass to that, bro',"
So if you're too school for cool,
And you treat me like a fool
You can choose to let it go
We can always, we can always
Party on our own.
At the shell-shocked expression on Effie's face, Haymitch relented in his hysterical laughing, and adopted an understanding expression.
"Look Effie, if those rich little Career Districts think that they're too cool for us, and try to play us for a fool, just ignore them, girlie!"
Chaff nodded in agreement.
"After all, we can always party on our own."
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