Author's note: Thanks so much for all the feedback! I love reviews! At the request of AbbeyMellarkAlways (great name by the way) I have been attempting to make my chapters longer (although some are still short on purpose, like this one). At the time of publishing this chapter I have almost all of the story written, so I am going back and fleshing them out a bit. Posting on here is my first real experience writing 'stories'. My experience is as a journalist and freelance writer who writes non- fiction articles, so bare with me!

~Katniss~

I decide to stop and see Hazelle with an extra fox I shot before going home. It's noon and I know she's having lunch with Vick, Rory and Posy. Their house is small like ours was, but Hazelle keeps it clean and it always feels cozy. I've grown used to just walking in. "Hi Katniss!" they all say in unison. "Hi guys. I brought a fox," I reply. Hazelle smiles and offers me a bowl of soup, which I accept. "Guess what?" little Posy says as soon as I sit down. "Gale started working in the mines today!" she claps her little hands together, looking delighted. Knowing Hazelle she has tried to make this a positive thing for the children, but working in the mines is every parent's worst nightmare since the explosion. "How exciting!" I say to the kids, catching Hazelle's eyes knowingly. I train my attention on my clay bowl of soup.

"So, Katniss. Gale hasn't told me much about you lately. You know I worry about you," Hazelle is smiling and handing Rory a wooden spoon. "Oh?" I take a spoonful of soup. Now I've got a full mouth so I won't be expected to reply. I don't want to tell Hazelle that I'm not speaking with her son. She raises an eyebrow and stares at me. I quickly turn my attention to the two oldest children, "How's school going, guys?"

Walking back home gives me time to think. The path is long and dusty, but much more relaxing then a walk through the Square. When I took my sister's place in the games I had imagined life being easier when I returned. Wouldn't life be wonderful if I no longer had to worry about food and starvation? Now I realize that everything is much more complicated and it's troubling me. The feelings I have about the capitol, Gale... Peeta.

It's too much. At least with Gale in the mines I won't see him as often. My steps get slower and slower until finally I'm at a stand- still. Suddenly I know exactly who I need to talk to.

"Well, sweetheart. Nice you could drop in," Haymitch waves his glass liquor bottle and hiccups. His house is a hazard- crumpled up paper and glass bottles make it difficult to see the flooring underneath. If my house wasn't identical it would be a complete mystery to me as to whether or not he even had carpet (well, we do anyways. Who knows what this floor has endured) A thick layer of coal dust, grease and filth covers everything and makes me hesitant to touch anything or sit anywhere. The townspeople say that they can smell his house in the Square. This hardly seems like an exaggeration- it reeks of old sweat, vomit and alcohol. I find a tiny corner of his coffee table that has a ring where bottles have been set for years. I feel a bit better about sitting here than anywhere else. At least I can see the table's wood through this permanent mark. Why am I here? I suddenly realize that this was a stupid idea. How is a drunk supposed to help me put my life in order? "I need advice," I say simply. "Who the hell do you think I am? A damned therapist?" He sits up on his dirty couch and sets his bottle down. "Ughhh..." he grunts, holding his forehead in his palms.

"I don't know who else to turn to. I just feel like something isn't right. How did you adjust to going home after-" He roughly shoves a bottle in my hands in response. "No-" I put the bottle back in his hands. He shrugs and begins downing it. Clearly, I have come to the wrong person, but who else is there? "Look. I can tell ya right now what your problem is. You need to make up with the boy," he slurrs out, "I don't know what went on with you two on the train home, but he's the only damn (*hiccup*) damn person who knows exactly how you feel. You ever had unfinished business with somebody? It takes over your life. Best to be on good terms with people anyways. Fix it. Now let me be." I sigh and get up from my perch on the coffee table and turn to leave. "Oh, sweetheart? Tell him to make some of that french bread with dinner tonight."

~Peeta~

Prim and I spend the whole morning making the pie. It turns out really good. "Let's have some now!" she begs. I give in and we sit on my tall kitchen stools with plates of fluffy pink pie. "So..." she licks some of the filling off her fingers and peers over at me. "What are you going to get Katniss for her birthday?" Despite being a child Prim is very sneaky. She's been trying to get Katniss and I talking again since we got back. She's sold on the fake romance and is disappointed we're not together.

I want to tell her the truth and how much I want to be with Katniss and how she's the one who has no feelings for me, but we can never tell the real truth. Not even to our families. "I don't think she'll want us making a big deal of it," I swallow my bite of pie and brush crust crumbs from my hands,"What are you giving her?" I ask. Prim smiles and rummages in the pocket of her dress, "I got her this." In her outstretched hand is a leather cord with clasps on the ends. "It's a leather necklace to put through the ring of her mockingjay pin. So she doesn't have to worry about losing it when she goes to the woods."

"Good idea! She'll love it."

Later, after I've sent Prim home with extra pie I sit in the living room and think. What gift do you get for someone who you thought you loved, but are upset with for lying about their feelings for you? I am still hurt by Katniss, the Games, the Capitol, everything. I can't help it though, I love 'The Girl on Fire'. "I know exactly who to get advice from," I say to no one but myself.