Effie walked through the streets of district 12 with her father, grimacing. Why on earth was she given a destiny in such a grimy, disgusting district? Why not one or two, even four?

She sighed inwardly as she was told to wait outside the liqour shop for her father. What a great 14th birthday, she thought. Spending it in 12.

"UPTOWN girl!" A deep voice boomed from somewhere near her. She spun around to find it's owner. "She's been living in a white-bread world!" Granted, the boy had a nice singing voice, even though he was being obnoxious. "As long as anyone with hot-blood can!" She finally found the culprit. A boy aroung her age, scraggly blonde hair that looked too long to her, dressed in a well-worn suit that looked like it was covered in coal dust, just like his hands. But what stood out the most were his bright blue eyes, full of life despite living in the seam and bouncing with teenage excitement and defiance."And now she's lookin' for a downtown man!" He smirked and pointed to himself exaggeratedly with his thumbs. "That's what i am!" He laughed, almost tipping himself off of the barrel he was sitting on. "What's a capitol girl like you doing in 12, huh, sweetheart?"

"For your information, you obnoxious child, I've been chosen for future escort for 12!"

He scoffed. "Well, pin a rose on your nose! So you'll be raising cattle for slaughter soon?"

she cried out in shock. "I beg your pardon? Good day to you!" As she started away, following her father, the ground shook beneath her and knocked her off her heels.

"NO!" The boy screamed, running in the direction of the coal mines. A crowd of people caught him, restrained him, tried to calm him down. "NO! DAD WAS IN THERE! DAD WAS IN THERE! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! LET ME THROUGH! HE WAS IN THERE! DAD!"

she watched him struggle against them more, until a large man grabbed him and forcefully sat him down on the ground. she picked herself up and followed her father again, knowing she would see the boy again.

Later that day, he sat alone on a bench in the townsquare, head down, looking unlike the bright-spirited boy of the afternoon.
She approached him, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move to acknowledge her. "Did your father make it out…?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I…I'm so sorry…"

He just nodded, returning his gaze to the ground. A girl with long dark hair approached him, then, wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

"Mitchie…Come on…you just need to be home…with your family…" She sighed, stroking his back. "It'll be okay."

He turned and waved to Effie, walking back toward the seam with the girl whom he was apparently dating, as she wrapped her arm around his waist.

Somehow, she had a feeling it would not be the last time she would see this boy.

Now, years later, she sees him walk up to her on the train. She recognizes those eyes. She remembered him when his name was drawn for the quarter quell. She rooted for him. That defiant boy sitting on the barrel.

Now, his eyes aren't nearly as bright. He looks worn down, tired, hurt by the world itself. She knows he is not the same person she met years ago. Even through his broken down, exhausted look, his suitis much nicer than the one she saw him in so long ago.

She cups her hand on his unshaven cheek, watching his expression of hidden surprise. "Mitchie….What has the world done to you…"
He looks down at her, not saying a word, his expression turning apathetic. He simply shakes his head, and grabs another bottle of white liqour.