I'm absolutely blown away by the lovely reviews I've received! Thank you all so very very much! I'm particularly humbled by those commenting on my writing - I've been working on my own stuff for a while (now in tandem with this story) and I tried to use the same narrative voice here to see how people responded. I must be doing something right! Thank you so very very much! I cannot say it enough!


Effie was not going to give up. On the tributes. Or on Haymitch.

But the children came first. Haymitch would be another battle.

Sitting on her bed that evening on the train, Effie re-watched the Reaping ceremonies as she brushed her hair. Her fingers were still pink from having soaked them to remove her nails. Her face was still red from scrubbing off the make-up. Her eyes were glued to the screen.

The tributes from Districts One and Two were what was expected - they were careers, they were prepared. Three this year as well looked lucky in their picks. Four and Six both had a twelve-year-old in their pairs. Five managed to pull two eighteen-year-olds, though the boy looked so frail and bloodless that Effie couldn't help blinking away tears.

Never would she have cried before. No. She would be sitting at a posh bar wearing a new dress, thanking some man for buying her a drink as they sat around and commented shallowly on that year's crop of tributes.

Tributes.

Not children.

But Effie had stood before them now. Not on screen - in person. She saw the children of District Twelve clutching hands, shivering in fear. The boy from five - she didn't have to be near him to know that the same fear was in his eyes. That when he shook the girl's hand, his palm was clammy and his pulse racing.

Not tributes.

Children.

Effie had to force herself to watch the rest of the ceremonies.

Seven, Eight, and Nine went by in a blur. Ten made her wince - knowing they were close to her own ceremony in Twelve. The broadcast from Eleven then came up and Effie turned off the television.

She wouldn't watch herself.

She couldn't watch herself.

Her hands shaking, she took the remote and turned the television back on, quick to switch the channel. They were broadcasting highlights from last year's Games with the usual commentary over them.

At first, Effie was going to turn it off - feeling sick at the thought that she used to enjoy this. But then Haymitch's words began to nag at her … make something up.

No.

She wouldn't make something up.

She was going to give these two children her best shot.

Reaching across her bed and going into the nightstand, Effie pulled out her clipboard and flicked through the pages clamped on until she found a blank sheet. She slipped the pen out from under the clip and started to make notes.

This wasn't at all in the job description. And Effie imagined that doing Haymitch's job could land her in trouble. Then again, she could only do so much.

She couldn't secure sponsors.

She couldn't tell those children what it was like in the arena.

All she could do was study these flashes of film and hope to see something of use. Anything. A piece of advice. Some … tactic.

Something …

Anything …


Effie got very little sleep that night - but still managed to wake up, have her make-up caked on and wig set right. She managed to act herself - bubbly, peppy, and happy even though she felt exhausted.

Haymitch surprisingly came to breakfast - though he had nothing to say to the two tributes, who were again eating as though they had never seen food before. And when they arrived in the Capitol, their eyes were wide with wonder - staring at everything around them to the point where Effie had to gently move them along.

"Remember," she said before allowing the stylists to whisk them away. "Smile ever so much. Wave to the crowd. You'll do just fine - I am very sure of it."

The girl Mary managed to smile a little before she and the boy Mick were led away.

"They're going to dress them up as coal miners," Haymitch said. "They do it every year. It's shit."

Effie didn't bother looking behind her. She could smell the alcohol on him to know he was close enough.

"Well!" Effie turned on her heel. "At least they won't be dressed as … fish!"

It wasn't the best comeback, especially with the hesitation - but it was true enough. At least living in the Capitol had taught her that much. The fish costumes were never very popular. Though, the coal miner costume didn't win votes either.

"Effie! Effie! Oh my god, look at you!"

Effie felt her heart stop at the sound of District Three's escort Hyacinth's voice. She turned back around and saw a haze of a bluish purple coming towards her. A tall woman, slender and wearing silver heels. Her skin had been dyed that strange violet color before they had all left the Capitol for their Districts.

Effie was waiting for her to comment on how tired she looked.

Or how sorry she was about … well, she was sure Hyacinth would find something to nit pick at.

Instead, the purple woman said, "You look a dream! Who's been doing your clothing?"

Effie felt a bit of relief. She answered the question with her usual perky grin, but still clutched her clipboard tight to her chest.

Hyacinth went on and on about this and that - how awful it was in Three but how worse it must have been in Twelve. She would causally pet Effie's cheek, tap her nose, too, if she was making a point.

"I watched your Reaping - it went so well! I remember one year where the escort got so flustered by the cameras that they had trouble picking out a name! Oh - we laughed! But you're finding the job to your liking?"

Effie nodded. "Yes. Very much. I know it's only just started though."

Hyacinth let out a small laugh. "Perhaps for me. But - dear - you know that your job will be over in two weeks. Tributes from Twelve hardly last. Especially in the past few years. You know that, dear. You do." Her voice became singsongy with those final words.

Effie didn't know how reply - she didn't know whether to smile or think of a witty retort.

"I -"

She began to smell the alcohol again. Haymitch was close - he was leaning over her shoulder just slightly, looking at her clipboard. He seemed about to grab it when Hyacinth finally noticed him - or rather, acknowledged him. She had put off that for long enough.

"Mr. Abernathy."

Haymitch looked her over. He couldn't remember her name. He didn't really care to know it.

"You," he said with a nod of his head. He then walked off, likely to find himself a drink.

Hyacinth shook her head. "I imagine that he hasn't been the easiest to work with. I've heard quite the stories."

Yes, thought Effie. You must have. But you never told me.

"We have our differences, of course," said Effie, still with a grin. "But I've been nothing but professional."

Hyacinth smiled, patting Effie's cheek again. "You poor thing."


Effie was in a rage. She kept a thick smile plastered on her face, but in her mind she was running a string of curses about Hyacinth and patronizing and … fish. Why fish? Oh never mind. Hyacinth had always had that way to her, of course. She was that way with everyone. Effie had never been fond of her, but, with her nerves on end, today she couldn't tolerate her.

Focus, Effie. Focus.

The tributes were going to be presented soon. She needed to take her seat.

Just as she was about to enter her row - the sound of the crowd around her deafening - she paused. Haymitch was already there in his seat. Drink in hand, of course. But she hadn't expected it. It wasn't like the Reaping. He didn't have to be there.

Effie took her place beside him.

"It won't help," he said.

"What won't help?"

Haymitch tapped the back of her clipboard with his knuckle.

"You have no idea what to expect. Nothing you or I can do will help those kids. The sooner you realize it, the better. You can get back to your normal life soon enough, princess. Dye your skin some stupid color." He sipped his drink. "Blue maybe."

"At least I can say I tried."

Haymitch leaned in, close to her ear. "And who will that matter to?"

Effie didn't have a moment to answer. The crowd grew louder, the music swelled, and soon the tributes from District One were riding out before them.