Chapter 14: Drinking
"Why the hell would you do that?" Haymitch's voice booms, so loud that I can hear him even though I'm on the other side of the door. Opening it, I see a scared looking doctor staring at Haymitch, who is cursing up a storm in the office. I don't believe he's entirely sober.
"Haymitch, please." I say, annoyed and appalled at his language as I straighten out my outfit. Without taking his glaring eyes off the doctor, he brings his pointer finger up to my face, as if telling me to wait.
"This doesn't concern you, Princess. Her body does not need any damn alterations. Patch her and the boy up. That's it. Do you understand?" he says to the doctor, who nods slowly. I roll my eyes.
"Haymitch, they just want to give Katniss a few implants. Surely this is not as big of a deal as you're making it out the be." I tell him. What was his deal with doing everything so natural? Natural hasn't been in for a few years now. Then again, Haymitch has never really been up to date with these things.
"She doesn't need implants, Effie. She is a kid! If she wants to get them when she's conscious, then I don't give a damn. But right now, she isn't conscious, and I'm her mentor. I make the decisions, and I say no. FINAL. ANSWER." and with that, Haymitch crashes a metal tray of tools into the nearby wall. I flinch inwardly, but after years of his outbursts, I've learned to deal with them pretty well.
"What about the boy?" the doctor asks nervously, inching for the phone on the wall. Probably to call security. I debate on whether not to stop him from doing so as Haymitch yells more.
"Do you expect my answer to be any different for him? Why the hell would he need any alterations, either? Maybe I should have a chat with President Snow himself, telling him to stop picking such dumbasses for doctors." Haymitch booms, hitting the wall, leaving a hole. I sigh, aggravated with this whole situation, and make my way towards the doctor, who is about to pick up the phone.
"Please, Dr. Mellany. I don't think that a phone call is necessary, do you? We'll just leave right now. Quietly. I'm terribly sorry for all the damage caused, but it's Haymitch Abernathy! Can you really expect anything more?" I ask him, trying to laugh it off. I even shoot him my most charming smile. Unfortunately, my persuasion skills aren't up to par, because 5 minutes later Security arrives to escort Haymitch out of the hospital, and I have no choice but to go with them.
"You're paying for those damages, Haymitch!" I yell once we're on the sidewalk in front of the hospital. I get a mean look in response. Haymitch pulls his hands in his pockets and starts walking down the street, shooting other pedestrians glares as he walks. Again, I have no choice but to follow him. Without answering any of my questions of where he is going, we walk until we end up in front of a tavern in the middle of the city. By now, my feet are hurting so bad, I'm positive I have blisters.
"Haymitch, we are not going inside there! I refuse." I tell him, crossing my arms in defiance. He glances back at me, raises one eyebrow and enters the tavern, leaving me with my mouth wide open in offense. Quickly I recompose myself, straightening out my dark purple pencil skirt. Putting my hands on my hips, I evaluate my options and ignore the strange looks I'm receiving. Ignoring strange looks has somewhat become a specialty of mine ever since I've had to work with Haymitch. Whether it be from the district I work for itself, or from people in the Capitol when I'm with the notorious Haymitch Abernathy, it has become a natural look to receive. My options are this: I can go home, the most responsible option and certainly the best one, or go inside the tavern with Haymitch, although I know he probably wouldn't want me there. Finally deciding what to do, I take three steps in the direction to my hotel when I turn back around and scamper into the tavern. Immediately, I feel out of place.
"Hey, honey!" I hear a voice call, and an absurd look appears on my face when I realize that this drunkard is talking to me. I continue to stare at the man in an absurd way, not sure of what to do and appalled he would treat me such a way until someone yanks my arm. I get pulled to a booth in the back of the tavern, a section that is considerably less populated, even though I fight to get away the entire time. I close my eyes and wince as the mystery person slings me into a booth harshly.
"Ow!" I squeak, and immediately hear a man's hoarse, howling laughter. Opening my eyes, I see a man on the other side of the booth laughing away, clutching an almost empty jug of alcohol in one of his hands, his other being a stump. I immediately focus on the man's stump hand, looking in horror at it until I see the person I came in here for slide next to him, two more jugs of alcohol in hand.
"Haymitch? Was that you that grabbed me?" I ask as he slides one of the jugs to the man next to him.
"She's not too bright, is she?" the man asks, finishing his first jug. Haymitch smirks, then directs his eyes towards me, which immediately makes him frown.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he asks, and like a silly school girl, I just shrug my shoulders.
"I wanted to make sure you were safe." I say, making up an excuse. I don't know why I'm here myself.
"So you follow the old man to a bar?" the man asks, and I open my mouth to defend myself.
"Yes! That's where he was, and I wanted to follow him, so I went! Who even are you?" I ask, yelling. The man turns to Haymitch, who's still staring my down, frown still in place.
"Well I'll be damned. Won a Games and still nobody recognizes me. What's a man gotta do to get a little recognition around here? I didn't get this damn stump for nothing." he says, waving his stump in the air. It's as if Haymitch didn't even hear him, the way he doesn't react. I get distracted by the man's ugly stump of a hand again, which makes him roar with laughter again.
"You shouldn't be here. Why you think this is any place for you, or that I am a child that needs to be followed, is beyond me." Haymitch states, and the anger in his voice is noticeable. I feel my face turn red as I look down.
"Lighten up, Abernathy! Pass her a drink." he says, slapping Haymitch on the back with his good hand.
"A drink?" I ask, horrified. "No, thank you. I have business to attend to all week and I actually value my job. Therefore, a hangover wouldn't exactly be ideal." For some reason, the man laughs again. Suddenly, what he said moments earlier comes back to me.
"I'm sorry, who did you say you are again? What Hunger Games did you win?" I ask.
"My names Chaff, darlin'. I won – what was it? – the 45th Hunger Games, if memory serves. Can't really trust it after a few drinks, right, Abernathy?" he says, elbowing Haymitch with a grin. Haymitch, who was currently downing the whole jug of alcohol, slams his jug down and smirks.
"He was that idiot who managed to get his arm chopped off, then refused a replacement." Haymitch tells me jokingly, but the look in his eyes also tell me that he's still mad at me for being here.
"I didn't think you would consider that an idiot thing to do, considering the fact that you don't want any alterations done on Katniss or Peeta." I interject, to which Chaff slams his drink down in delight.
"Look out, Haymitch! This one's got spunk!" he says, laughing. Haymitch's eyes tighten to another glare after he rolls his eyes at Chaff. I seem to be getting a lot of those from him lately.
"That's different. I don't see the Capitol eager to give Chaff body implants for no reason." he snaps. I purse my lips, not wanting to get into an argument with him over something he won't change his mind on.
"Aw, don't be like that, Haymitch! I think I could use some curves." Chaff says, which I admit, makes me laugh. Even Haymitch cracks into a smile, which makes me decide to like Chaff, even if he was improper. This is the most I've seen Haymitch enjoy himself ever, and I like the fact that Chaff makes him laugh. I only wish I could bring the same joy instead of annoyance.
"Maybe you should go home now Princess, things start to get rowdy once it gets dark." Haymitch says about thirty minutes later, and the slight slur in his words lets me know that he's beginning to lose it.
"Haymitch's right, darlin'. This ain't no place for a lady like you once the crowd gets rough. From where you come from and how you look, this place is already dangerous. You stick out like a sore thumb." Chaff tells me with slightly slurred words as well, and I purse my lips. They're right, but as much as I don't want to admit it, I was actually enjoying myself. Haymitch even convinced me to have a few sips of his drink before Chaff ordered me a few glasses of wine. I'm sure the thought of that happening will horrify me in the morning.
"I suppose so. Haymitch, you better be present tomorrow. There's no telling when Katniss and Peeta will be done with their recovery, and we need to be there when they wake up." I say, slipping out the booth.
"Hear that, Haymitch?" Chaff yells, and I can't tell if he's mocking me or not. My guess is that he is, especially by the way that Haymitch is smiling. "Don't you worry darlin', I'll see to it that he's there. Victor's honor." Chaff winks at me, then salutes with his stump, making Haymitch slam his own hand on the table with laughter. I stare at his stump again with horror, then force myself to meet Chaff's eyes. Giving him a polite smile, I hurry out of the tavern, somewhat scared of everybody inside.