Chapter 10.
Life was an endless pointless torture, Effie mused, munching on a piece of toast without much gusto or any of her usual poise.
She glanced at Hayden over the – late – breakfast table, he looked back over the rim of his cup of coffee, looking just as miserable as she felt. He forced a commiserating smile and she answered in kind.
Hangovers were never fun.
"Good morning, sunshines!" Haymitch boomed, walking in with uncharacteristic energy. He ignored the double groan of pain and slid a red folder over the table right next to her. "A little late, are you?" he mocked. "I did the paperwork. You can thank me later, Trinket."
She swiped her hands on her napkin and lifted the folder's cover to find the receipt of the necessary paperwork following tributes' death.
"That's… suspiciously nice of you." she frowned. "What did you do that needs forgiving?"
He stared at her for a second too long and her cheeks flushed crimson when she remembered the previous night. Of course, remembering her embarrassing – and admittedly feeble – attempts at seducing him only made her remember why she had been acting that way in the first place and she lowered her eyes, feeling gloomy again. That poor Stella… She placed her piece of toast down, not at all hungry anymore.
"Anyway… Since both of you have been so busy getting wasted, you may have missed it but we're down to three tributes." Haymitch continued, speaking entirely too loud on purpose. "The Games will be over before tonight, probably."
"Do you have to shout?" Hayden grumbled in his coffee. "When do I go back to Twelve? You arranged for the bodies to be send back, yes?"
"The crowning will be mandatory this year." Haymitch replied. "Sorry, bro."
"Why?" Hayden frowned. "It never is…"
Effie watched Haymitch too, taken aback by his announcement. The crowning was always attended by some victors – usually the most popular ones or those who, like Haymitch, lingered for some weeks in the Capitol after the end of the Games – but she had never heard it said that victors were forced to stay in the city for it. Most of them, she knew, liked to escort the coffins back to their District at the earliest available opportunity. She could understand that. The idea that Stella's and Sarge's bodies would make that journey alone…
"'Can't say." Haymitch shrugged. "Odair isn't in a bad shape. Cheer up, you will be home in a few days."
There was a firm scowl on Hayden's face as he plucked a piece of his toast and rubbed it between two of his fingers until nothing was left but crumbs. He wasn't pleased at staying, Effie surmised.
"You're so sure that boy will win…" Effie ventured. "You said there are three tributes left…"
"Sweetheart, I know that boy will win." Haymitch snorted. "He's pretty, he's clever and he will be the youngest victor ever. One of a kind." He rolled his eyes.
She thought she detected disgust in his voice but she wasn't sure. Hayden must have heard it too though because he looked at his brother with something akin to amusement.
"Afraid he will steal your spotlight?" Hayden taunted.
Something flashed on Haymitch's face. It was quick and she was certain she was mistaken because of her hangover but it looked like hope mixed with guilt. He didn't bother answering his brother's teasing, he turned to Effie with one of those charming smiles that, she was beginning to suspect, were all fake.
"I'm going out." he told her. "Won't be back 'till tonight and I will try not to get drunk."
"Good." she replied distractedly.
He nodded at Hayden and then walked out of the room, hands deep in his pockets and shoulders slightly slouched. Effie bit back a comment about proper posture. Something was nagging at the back of her mind and she stood up, startling Hayden who was starting to fall back asleep in his cup of coffee. She served him a half-cooked excuse and hurried after his brother, intending to catch him before he left the penthouse.
She shouldn't have worried, he was still in the hall. He glanced up when she approached and pocketed one of those mysterious grey envelopes.
"What?" he grumbled. "I did more than my part today."
"I want to apologize." she said plainly and without flourish. Somehow, she doubted he would have appreciated it. "What I did last night was untoward of me, not to mention really embarrassing and…"
"You were upset." he cut her off. "It's fine."
"No, it isn't." she argued. "And interrupting people is very rude by the way but never mind that. I really need to apologize. It won't happen again."
He waved her excuses away before shaking his head with obvious amusement. "You're something else, aren't you, Trinket?"
She didn't know what he meant by that but she did know he was mocking her.
His smirk grew tight. "Never mind, sweetheart. I'm used to it."
She was sure he was aiming for cocky but somehow, it ended up sounding vulnerable. She had no clue as to why. She frowned a little but with a wink he was gone, leaving her to stand there, in the middle of the hall, like an idiot. Poor show of manners, that.
"Effie?" Hayden called from the dining room threshold, uncertain.
She plastered a smile on her lips and a cheery expression on her face, pushing aside the mystery that was Haymitch Abernathy.
Hayden looked hesitant, openly fragile in a way his brother would never allow himself to be. "I need to know if you plan on staying next year. If you do… We need to start planning."
"Of course, I plan on staying." she replied more cheerfully than she felt. "Where would I go?"
Relief flashed on Hayden's face. His smile was carefree and almost boyish.
"Good." He reached for her hand and squeezed it briefly. "I'm glad to hear it. I like working with you."
Her own smile became more genuine. "I do too. I just know we will have more chances next year."
She had hoped to cheer him up but instead of brightening and sharing her optimism, Hayden's grin faded away.
"Effie, we will never win." he said, very flatly.
She refused to hear it.
"See?" she joked. "That is why you need me in your team. You and your brother aren't dreaming big enough."
And she was an expert in reaching impossible odds.
Hayden shook his head at her, partly amused and partly sorry at her innocence, but changed topic. They ended up on the living-room couch, studying available stylists for the following year. The problem wasn't a lack of choice but rather the certainty none of them would volunteer to work for Twelve. Effie had worked as a model long enough to have contacts though and she vowed to find someone suitable, no matter how many favors it would cost her.
All the while the TV remained on, the sound muted.
Haymitch's prediction was right.
At around eight in the evening, Finnick Odair lifted his trident to the sky in a victorious gesture, his last opponent dead at his feet.
That was when Hayden was requested to get available for interview purposes. There were the pieces about losing Districts – Effie was required to attend and she did her best to answer Caesar's questions cheerfully, knowing possible sponsors were watching – and the pieces designed to distract the viewers until their latest victor could be produced to the camera. If experience served, it would take a few days.
Twelve's official post-Games interview lasted for the best part of fifteen minutes – ten of which were spent mocking their District despite her best attempts at bringing the conversation back on track. Hayden had more or less given up, forcing a smile that looked more like a sneer at each attack, and it became Effie's job to be witty, bubbly and, in short, attractive enough that people would learn to like Twelve.
"That was a disaster." she declared, once they stepped out of the studio.
"Sorry." Hayden mumbled, not sounding sorry at all.
Later that night, as she was jotting down notes about how to alter their strategy for the best the following year, a late talk-show came up on TV. Hayden had gone to bed a few minutes earlier thus he was spared the sight of his brother – wearing smart pants and a grey shirt open at the collar that were by far too casual for public appearances – laughing off some crude comments and questions about his latest conquest.
She placed her pen down thoughtfully and turned the volume up a bit, fascinated.
The interview content was of no consequence at all. It wasn't what she was interested in.
She was starting to get why sponsors liked Haymitch better. Hayden, as lovable as he was in private, was stern and tensed on camera. His answers to interviewers were flat, he was too prone to get insulted on their District behalf… Haymitch, on the contrary, had a gift.
The verbal fencing with the host was entertaining without coming out as confrontational. When he didn't like a question, he either laughed it off or turned it into a joke. He never showed irritation, he laughed at himself, he played it as if it was all a game… In short, he was charming.
And that was what Twelve needed.
The following day, Finnick Odair was still not out of the Games clinic and the Capitol was getting restless.
Even up in the penthouse, they could hear the crowd in the streets chanting the name of District Four's new victor. Everyone was in a frenzy over him. People were crying in front of the compound, others came with flowers, posters of him, candles, jewels, gifts… They trampled on each other, fights erupted… Peacekeepers had their job cut out for them.
The Head Gamemakers issued a statement that all victors and escorts were to remain in the building. They were afraid of what would happen to anyone related to the Games that would be caught in that madness. It suited Effie just fine because it meant they needed more interviews to occupy people on TV and that meant a larger airing time than Twelve usually got.
Problem was: Haymitch and Hayden were obviously not used to be cooped up in the same room for so long. Effie had to break up at least two fights and it wasn't even noon yet. Her suggestions that Haymitch popped down to Eleven's floor for a visit went ignored.
"They're going to rip him to shreds when he finally comes out." Hayden commented, from the armchair, as they watched the news on TV. The journalists were calling for Capitol people to, please, not crowd the streets surrounding the Training Center but it was to no avail.
Never in the history of the Hunger Games a tributes had unleashed such reactions.
It made Effie slightly uneasy. The boy was only fourteen… She knew Stella would have been frightened to death if… She didn't let herself go down that road.
"'Don't think they will let him go outside on his own." Haymitch replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. "They will keep their golden boy very safe, trust me." He muttered something about losing money but Hayden didn't hear and Effie didn't remark on it, used to Haymitch's cryptic comments by now.
"How's he anyway?" Hayden frowned. "What's taking so long? He had a gash on his back, it can't take that long to stitch him up…"
"Mags says he's dehydrated." the senior victor shrugged. "That's the official story. Don't know more."
"I heard on the escort grapevine he's… out of sort." Effie cut in.
"Everyone's out of sort after they won, sweetheart." Haymitch snorted. "That's what happens when you have blood on your hands."
"Adjusting back to normal life can be difficult." Hayden nodded.
"And what would you know about that?" his brother snapped.
The tension raised a notch and Effie was glad for the shrill ringing of the phone. She didn't have time to get up, Hayden stood and picked up before she could.
"Was that necessary?" Effie hissed at Haymitch.
His grey eyes twinkled with amusement. It went in par with the sneer on his lips. "You're a cute bodyguard, Princess, but I promise you he doesn't need you."
"Effie, they want you and me downstairs for an interview." Hayden announced, hanging up.
"Did they specify that they wanted you by name or do they simply need a victor to represent Twelve?" she asked.
Clearly, it was an odd question because both men frowned, looking at her as if she was crazy.
"I always do the Games related interviews…" Hayden said.
"Yes…" she trailed off. "But…" How could she word this? "Please, don't take it the wrong way, Hayden, but Haymitch handles interviews better."
There was a short silence.
"I don't do Games related interviews." Haymitch protested just when Hayden exclaimed : "He doesn't' even know the tributes' names!"
That attack prompted Haymitch to glare at his brother. "Just because I don't walk around Twelve with a kicked puppy face, acting like it's all my lazy brother's fault if we never bring kids back, doesn't mean I don't know their names."
"Say that again?" Hayden challenged, his hands clenching into fists.
"Would you both behave like adults?!" Effie snapped, pressing a preventive hand against Haymitch's shoulder – she just knew if he stood up, it would escalate. She turned to a Hayden with a stern expression. "Listen, I am sorry but I am only thinking of what is best for Twelve's image. If we can get people interested in us, then next year we could…"
"And I'm not interesting enough, is that it?" Hayden interrupted her.
"You don't enjoy interviews, Hayden." she sighed. "You take everything they say to heart, you… You don't play the game!"
It was the wrong thing to say, she knew it at once.
"No…" he admitted, in a pained voice. "I just hide until it's over."
She tried to hold him back but Haymitch grabbed her arm before she could follow him to his room.
"Let him calm down on his own. He will come out in an hour or two." he advised. "He's been like that since he was five. Temper tantrums."
"Oh, and you're a stranger to temper tantrums?" she mocked. "Your mother must truly be a saint. Change your shirt, I won't have you going on national TV with lipstick stains on your collar. I'm surprised you found the time."
That lipstick stain had been annoying her ever since he had showed up. How he even managed to get it given that the building was on lockdown was anyone's guess. Perhaps Celesta Vane was inventive, perhaps he knew a way out.
"Jealous?" he teased.
She narrowed her eyes at him and he wisely chose to obey her orders.
Half an hour later, they were on live television.
They stayed longer than they were scheduled for. Caesar was just delighted by their banter and Effie's offended glaring when he asked if she wasn't afraid of succumbing to Haymitch's charm.
Hayden sulked much longer than a single hour.
She wondered if it was because he viewed her choice to replace him with Haymitch as a betrayal or because she and Haymitch made such a good duo Caesar promised to invite them again.
I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know!