AN: Just a brief explanation, THIS is a new chapter. I uploaded it AFTER I uploaded the original 4th Chapter (The 73rd Hunger Games), which is now the 6th Chapter. Sorry for the confusion, but I wanted to add a few more things in. The 73rd Hunger Games chapter is now a little different, so you can re-read it if you want, but it's basically the same. If you've already read it, well the two new chapters just happen before it. Again, sorry for the confusion. This just came to me and I wanted to add it in.
If you're reading this whole story for the first time, ignore everything I just said above, and enjoy :)
This one's a lot shorter than my other chapters, but it really goes along with the next one, which is why I uploaded them together.
Please review!
The 69th Hunger Games
After the 62nd Games, where their tribute had gotten to the final four before being brutally murdered by Enobaria, everything changed. Effie had a hard time getting Haymitch to talk to sponsors, even though most of them were eager to support District 12 after the success they'd had the year before. But he did it, begrudgingly. The next few years were tougher. He started drinking more and more, unable to forget how disappointed he'd been after trying so hard, and failing, to produce a victor. Effie was ever optimistic, reminding him that the first step to success is trying. Haymitch preferred to believe that trying was just the first step to failure.
They started fighting more and more, over big things, or little things, but they always made up. It was usually Haymitch's fault…usually. But Effie knew she probably didn't help the situation. They were both quick to anger, and both stubborn as hell, but luckily they were also both quick to forgive. They would usually make up within a few hours, or a day at the longest. Haymitch would apologize, even if he wasn't exactly sorry, because he knew it was what she wanted to hear. Effie seemed to have a harder time apologizing, but he always forgave her anyway, even if she didn't. That was how they'd spent their years together, sometimes mad, but mostly happy.
They were really opposite in a lot of ways, and sometimes they both questioned how they stayed together. But deep down, they knew that they were the only people who either one of them could be with. They had both been broken and they knew how to comfort each other, if nothing else. Although Effie hated to admit it, there were a few years when she considered asking to be transferred to another District, to get away from Haymitch. Sometimes, she didn't want to be with him anymore. But whenever she started to think about it seriously, she realized that she couldn't imagine herself with anyone else, especially a cold, passionless, Capitol man.
Effie's self-appointed job of keeping Haymitch sober during the Games became even harder after the 66th Games. Somebody, she was never told who, had told the Gamemakers that her and Haymitch didn't exactly have a normal escort/mentor relationship. Effie wasn't sure, but she had a very strong suspicion it had been the new designer. Her idea to paint the kids in black and parade them around naked had made them the laughing stock-of all of Panem. It had been a disastrous design, and the designer had been ridiculed in all the fashion programs and magazines. And yet, in the very next Games, she was promoted to District 7. Yes, Effie suspected she had revealed a little secret to the Gamemakers that earned her a reward. Whenever Effie saw her she would smile sweetly at the woman, while raging at her on the inside.
They were never officially accused of anything. Frankly, Effie knew it wasn't technically against the rules for an escort and mentor to carry on a romantic relationship. But after the 66th Games, Effie was forbidden from going to District 12 before the day of the Reaping. Apparently, as a Gamemaker explained it, it gave their tributes an "unfair advantage." Had it been anybody but Plutarch Heavensbee, she would have simply accepted it, but since he was one of her mother's oldest friends, she tried to convince him to change his mind. He apologized and told her it would be worse for her to protest it. And so it was done.
Effie no longer went to District 12 a week early, and Haymitch rarely sobered up before the Reaping. He tried to the first year, but he didn't bother anymore. It was easier when Effie was there to take it all away and to yell at him so much he stopped drinking just to shut her up. But now, the earliest he could stop was when he got on the train, and by the time he was sober enough to be useful it was almost time for the kids to go. And besides, it was harder now than it had been before. Now not only was he haunted by his own Games, but he was haunted by hope. By the hope he felt when he thought Bo could win. By the hope that was shattered in a bloody mess of teeth on flesh. He honestly didn't know how Effie dealt with it. He knew that she took sleeping pills every night, and if she didn't she'd take hours to fall asleep. Her nightmares were just as bad as his, and sometimes he'd wake up to her talking in her sleep. But during the day, she was disgustingly chipper.
Haymitch didn't understand it, even when she explained it to him, but hiding behind her character kept her strong. Besides, she knew she would hate herself more if she gave up. The only thing she knew how to do when the Games rolled around was to try with all her might to keep those kids alive. It was the exact opposite of what Haymitch did, but whenever he tried to convince her she'd feel better if she resigned herself to failure, she would get upset and try even harder.
Effie never stopped trying to get Haymitch to stop drinking. But he held firm, explaining that the alcohol kept him in a state of constant non-reality, where he could forget the truth and write it off as his imagination. At least he drank a lot less when she was around, so he wasn't quite so belligerent, which she supposed she should be grateful for. And sometimes he even stopped on his own, if one of the tributes looked promising, or he saw it was upsetting Effie too much, but that didn't happen very often. And he usually managed to give the same lines of standard advice every year, and if he didn't, Effie would. Don't run to the Cornucopia, don't show them your strengths, focus on survival techniques, etc.
But Effie was always worried about the sponsors. She could talk-up the kids as much as she liked, but she wasn't allowed to discuss gifts. That was Haymitch's job, which he got worse and worse at every year, if he did it at all.
During the 69th Games, Effie managed to drag him to the Sponsor Viewing Centre with her, but now she regretted it dearly. One of their tributes was dead already, but the girl was still alive. Haymitch was barely even drunk, so she couldn't even blame the alcohol, but he somehow offended a whole group of sponsors, who walked away angrily. Effie shuffled him out of the Centre quickly before he could cause any more damage, and ignored him for the whole trip back to the Training Centre before exploding at him in his room. They'd had the same argument about a million times, about Haymitch not helping the kids, and Effie being too demanding. They were just about to make up when Effie suddenly shot off the bed.
"I don't know why I even bother anymore," she said angrily.
"Neither do I. Don't. Don't bother. You know they don't stand a chance anyway," Haymitch replied, in a much calmer tone than he'd been using so far.
"That's not what I mean," Effie said sadly. "I mean, I don't know why I bother with you anymore." Haymitch glared in confusion but didn't say anything, so she kept going, holding back tears. "I…I've thought about it, a lot, and I don't think I can do this anymore. Be with you, I mean. It's too much, Haymitch." He stood up and moved toward her, but she quickly moved to the other side of the room, closer to the door. "We just fight, all the time. And you don't respect me. You're always so rude to me, and I'm not very nice to you either. I just…I can't. I don't have to put up with this. I don't need this. I don't. I deserve better. Being with you is just too hard," she started to cry softly as she finished.
"I'm sorry," Haymitch said automatically as he moved to comfort her again. She moved even closer to the door and laughed dryly.
"You're sorry. Great. How many times have I heard that before? It's not a matter of being sorry. It's just who you are, and you can't change that, and it's not fair to ask you to. We're just…too different. And it's too hard. Trying to do these Games together and carry on a relationship. We fight all the time and it's wearing me down," Effie said weakly.
"Effie, but…I need you," Haymitch said. "You're the only thing that -"
"Don't. I've heard this all before," Effie said, regaining some of her strength.
"I love you," he tried again.
Effie sighed, "I love you too, but this is ridiculous. People who love each other aren't supposed to treat each other like crap. And that's what we do. This isn't healthy."
"Fine, then go," Haymitch snapped suddenly and pointed to the door. "Maybe now you'll finally leave me alone."
Effie frowned. She was sure he'd try harder to fight for her, but she guessed they were both tired of fighting by now. When she started to break up with him that night, she didn't think she'd actually go through with it. She was sure they'd make up like they always did. But as she walked sadly back to her room, she realized it was for the best. He was no longer the man she fell in love with. The man she fell in love with was smart, confident, hard working, optimistic. But Haymitch had turned into a hopeless layabout who she was tired of yelling at, and the playful teasing banter they used to have had long since turned malicious. It was for the best, she thought. Even if she still loved him, even if she always would, she needed a man who respected her, and was polite, and put together, and predictable.
As Effie was getting ready for bed that night, their second tribute died. She knew there was no reason for her to be in the Training Centre anymore, so early the next morning she packed her bags and went back to her apartment. She left a note for Haymitch on the dining room table.
Haymitch
I have gone home to my apartment, as there is no reason for me to stay here anymore. I have arranged a train ticket for you. You may use it on any day you like; just take a Games taxi to the train station and give them your name. Good bye.
- Effie
Haymitch glared down at the note as he read it. Last night, when he told her to get out, he didn't actually think she would. He thought she would cool down, they would see each other at breakfast, and he'd smooth things over like he'd done after every other fight. But this year, she was serious.
He got a crazy notion to find out where she lived and go talk to her there, but he knew that was probably an impossible idea. He would write to her, he decided, and he did, on the train home. He wrote to her a few times during the year, to try to make up. The letters ranged from apologetic, to sad, to angry, but he never received a reply. The whole time, he wasn't too worried that she would actually stay mad at him. He knew her better than anyone, knew how stubborn she could be. True, she was being more stubborn than usual this time, but he thought it was to prove a point. To make him miss her. To make him change; or to prove that he couldn't, more likely. So, to prove his own point, Haymitch decided to sober up early next year. Everyone probably thought he liked being drunk, but he didn't. He would prove Effie wrong. He would show her what she was missing.
