Prompt: I do have a prompt, if you like. What if Effie gets married and Haymitch has to deal with it? Like he runs into them at a party or something?
Mrs Seneca Crane
"How's the new escort?" Chaff asks, his voice barely loud enough to cover the booming upbeat music of the party raging around them. They've looked for a table and chairs in a corner but couldn't find any so they've retreated to an alcove near the waiter room – strategic because it allows them to pilfer the brand new trays full of food or drinks.
Haymitch downs the glass of whiskey he's been nursing before he spits out the usual bitter answer. "Useless. Just like the one before her."
Twelve's back to losing its escort after only one year because Haymitch is very good at making women run. Not all women have Trinket's steel spine and not all women are equipped to deal with his moods, his dark humor and his demons. None of them cares to.
"Have you told Crane that yet?" Finnick asks, with some hesitation because, in the last two years, the topic of his escorts has been largely taboo. Nothing puts him in a mood like rehashing the fact that Trinket is gone.
"Won't need to." he grumbles. "Tara already told me she's quitting first opportunity."
Chaff snorts, taking a sip of his own glass while Haymitch glares at the bottom of his empty one.
"What did you do, buddy?" Eleven's victor asks knowingly.
"Puked on her." He shrugs, a little smug. "Had to force myself a little but totally worth it."
Because he hates Tara.
He hates the girl who preceded her too.
And he hates Trinket a little for leaving him to deal with those useless simpletons.
And, as if to better cements that thought, obviously, that's the moment he catches sight of her, on the arm of Head Gamemaker Crane – on the arm of her husband.
News of the engagement came out in the wake of the Seventieth Hunger Games, right after Crane's nomination as Head Gamemaker was confirmed. Haymitch was notified by a vague official letter handed to him by Undersee – the first time anyone bothered to send him a letter about escort changes so he supposes he has her to thank for it. He figures she found a more direct path to fulfilling her ambitions.
Now, she's wealthy, famous and powerful.
A hush falls on their alcove like always when Trinket is in the vicinity. They used to tease him at first but, he guesses, there is only so much teasing a close friend can do before realizing just how not funny the whole thing is.
And it's definitely not funny to him to watch Trinket be paraded around on another man's arm like the trophy wife she was never supposed to be.
It's painful, that's what it is.
He came to admit that much to himself at least.
"Well…" Chaff sighs, handing over what's left of his whiskey in a sympathetic gesture. Haymitch should be offended but he's too busy not staring at her, at the endless legs and the shapely ass and the swan neck, to do anything else but grab the glass and gulp it down. Pathetic. He's pathetic and everyone knows it. Chaff winces. "She doesn't look happy."
"She's happy enough." he snaps.
She's exactly where she always wanted to be: at the top. Higher than that, she would have to marry into Snow's family. A Head Gamemaker's wife… She's as good as queen amongst peasants. She dictates fashion, she sets trends, she's the highest predator on the food chain, everyone wants to be her and everyone is kissing her feet…
She can't sponsor anyone because Games staff members – or their close family – aren't allowed but she never fails to publicly pledge her support to her old District anyway, which has sent quite a few sponsors his way. Haymitch should be grateful but, lately, all he's been feeling is bitterness and resentment.
"I heard they have an open marriage." Finnick hesitates, glancing at Haymitch and away just as quickly.
"Must be so." Chaff snorts. "He's more partial to pretty boys… He doesn't even probably…"
"He does." Haymitch scoffs and neither of his friends try to argue the point. The Cranes' marriage is an open one – he got that from the source – but they also have an active sex life – he got that from the source too. Heirs are required or whatever. He wonders if she bothered to tell him she probably can't have kids the traditional way, if they've decided to try anyway for a time or if she will fake surprise later on when new results come in and tell her what she already knows. "Need a refill."
He leaves Chaff and Finnick there and goes for the bar, making sure to avoid the general area where the Head Gamemaker and his wife are holding court.
However, he's not really surprised when she corners him by the bar while he waits for the Avox to pour him his whiskey.
They've been playing that game at every party for two years.
And it always ends the same way.
Sometimes, he can't even bother to pretend anymore.
"Haymitch." she says quietly, a bit unsure.
"Mrs Crane." he spits out, taunting and dismissive all at once.
She looks disappointed, like she always does when he doesn't immediately cave and forgets to be mad at her for ditching him and Twelve.
He's determine to ignore her, all the while knowing he won't last five minutes.
She has always known which button to push.
"I was hoping to show you the new painting in the northern hallway." she says pointedly.
As far as excuses go, that one is feeble. She usually does better.
"Bit desperate today, ain't we?" he mocks. "Hubby not fucking you right? Likes the back entrance a little too much? That never did much for you…"
She narrows her eyes at him, lips pursed in irritation and then whirls around and leaves him here without a single word.
The Avox hands him his drink and he downs it, slams it on top of the bar and follows after her because… What else is he going to do?
That's his life now, apparently.
Snatching the crumbs she consents to give, stealing moments at parties, fucking her in an empty room or in maintenance closets because she made a stupid choice two years ago.
A choice he knows for a fact she regrets.
Crane treats her right, that's not the issue, and he knows that when she says it's better than the alternative suitors her mother would have selected, she means it. She has everything she wants, everything she needs and Crane never begrudges her the discreet affair on the side because they have an understanding and he has his own fun on his own. She's happy.
Or she should be.
Because in the dark when she clings to him, it's becoming harder and harder for him to pretend he doesn't feel the hot tears… To pretend he doesn't hear the way the whimpers sometimes turn into sobs.
They're not on the same team anymore.
They're not anything anymore.
They're just two fucked up people who can't stop screwing each other in a burning world.
bleak bleak world XD I mean, at least it's Seneca... He would never hurt her and he doesn't care if she keeps Haymitch but... yeah. Not a happy world! Let me know your thoughts!