Hey guys! So, I know I already gave my Veterans' Day spiel, but I woke up this morning and felt inspired! Plus, I want to add some more of the Catching Fire characters into the story! Who else do you want to see? I'm open for suggestions! XD Once again, THANK YOU VETS! I'll be praying for all you! So, anyways, may I present:

Chapter 10: Pride

Peeta and Mason hang out that Sunday at Mason's house. His mom, a happy but warn-out woman, makes her homemade pizza for the boys. The three of them sit at the little round table made for three, four at most. A candle sits in the middle of the homely wooden table, giving them a soft light.

But, Mason is tired. He feels lazy, not up to do anything. And, that's a problem, because the band marches their Veteran's Day Parade tomorrow. But, Mason has nothing to feel proud of. He doesn't feel like standing taller, puffing out his chest, and keeping his chin up. His eyes don't shine with pride; in fact, they're blank.

All he wants to do is sleep.

"So, how's school going for you, Peeta?"

"It's going really good, actually. I really like art class."

"What classes are you taking?"

"Honors English, history, and science, Pre-Calc, art, gym, and Latin."

"Oh, yes, I loved Calculus, and so does Mason, right?"

He nods, "Right."

There's a short silence, before she speaks up, "Mase, is everything OK?"

He nods, "Yeah. It's fine."

They finish their pizza, and Mason's mom takes the dishes to the sink.

The boys go up to his room.

"I think your mom is right. You haven't been yourself lately."

"Yeah… I guess I've been a bit dry lately."

"Is it because of-"

The boys hear the door slam, and know that Mason's mom has left the house.

"Probably to get the mail."

It's her tradition. Every day, right after dinner, she gets the mail, hoping to find that one letter. She does, every once in a while, but less and less.

"Hey, want to go to the living room? We can play a game, if you want."

Peeta agrees, "That sounds like fun."

They go through the long hallway into Mason's living room, where the fireplace is blazing, and just a lamp lights the room. His mom rocks on her favorite antique rocking chair; back and forth, back and forth; and goes through the mail.

Together, the guys go through the cabinets, looking for the perfect game to play.

Suddenly, they hear a whimper.

Her hands are shaking, and all envelopes but one are spilled all over the carpet.

That one envelope, she holds in shaking hands. Tears of joy spill from her eyes as she just stares at the address on the envelope, her address, in delicate handwriting.

Mason just stares at his mom for a second, in disbelief. He knows it's too good to be true.

"It's really true! It's him!" she cries, "Mason! Come here, now!"

Now, he smiles, too, as he crawls over to his mother.

She carefully and meticulously opens up the envelope, hands still shaking, as she removes both letters. She hands one to him, and takes the other for herself.

Her tears still flow, and Mason's sight is blurred.

He reads the letter quietly.

Hey Mason!

How are you?

I'm sorry I took so long to write back, but we've been pretty busy lately.

I hope that you're taking good care of your mom- (I know you are.)

Sometimes I stay up at night, wondering what you look like now.

If things go right, I should be able to be back for your graduation. I really want to be there.

No matter what, I will be with you.

I'll tell you, when I read that you became a drum major, I literally bursted with excitement. I told everyone around that my boy grew up to be one of the three drum majors for his band.

Out of the thousands of people that go to your school, you are one of three. Hundreds of kids look up to you. Don't forget it.

I want you to know how proud I am of the young man you are, and so is your mother.

I also want you to know that I can't wait to see you again.

You should be proud of yourself. I am.

I hope that you're proud of me, too. Because, I'm proud. I'm proud to be here, with these people, serving my country. I'm proud to be an American, and I'm proud to be defending this amazing country, and keep it safe from harm, even if it means sacrificing myself.

I really want you to be proud of us here, because so many people are overlooking what we do.

Keep up the good work, and, if and when you march, think of me.

Love,

Dad

And, something happens. Reading over the letter, Mason feels something he's needed. That absolute pride for what his father does. He smiles.

That night, though, he gets curious, sneaking into the kitchen, and reading the note that his dad wrote to his mom.

To my Sweetheart-

Remember when we were young, and I used to write you those love letters?

I want to let you know that those feelings are the kind that never wear out.

Our love lasts forever, and we both know it.

No matter how long I'm here, in this dirty, too cold or hot, smelly, loud, bloody bunker, I always smile when I think about you, and of our beautiful child.

You are amazing.

He is amazing.

We are amazing.

To think, we came together and made such a wonderful human being.

I still remember the day he was born, and I fed you soup.

I remember when I held him in my arms for the first time; wasn't it wonderful?

I'll be back for you soon, I promise.

I'm proud of you for being strong, Wiress. I hope you're proud of me, too.

Hopefully, I'll see you soon.

I love you, dear.

Keep in touch.

Love,

Beetee

The next day is the Veteran's Day Parade. Mason marches on the right, next to Francesca, who's in the middle of Mason and Brad. Mason now imagines his dad, in a military uniform, sitting in a dirty, stinky, awful bunker, but still standing up tall.

Puffing his chest out.

Eyes full of pride.

Smiling.

Not because he has to look good for a crowd.

No, because he really is that proud.

And, Mason knows now, that's what Veteran's Day is all about.

So, when Francesca taps his shoulder, zoning him back to reality, asking how he does it, he simply responds,

"Because I have an amazing dad."