I do not own 'The Hunger Games' or anything related.
Whenever my brother was hurt, I would boil with rage, wanting nothing more than to rip apart the person who did him harm. I felt a bit of that anger now.
"Shoved him?" I confronted the girl.
Apparently she did not take kindly to the boy's confession of love to her to all of Panem, feeling as if she had been humiliated. She accused me of being behind it all.
"No, it was my idea!" The boy told her, "Haymitch just coached me over how to do it."
Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. It had been the boy who told me about actually telling people about a girl he had a crush on if the subject rose (even if I'm pretty sure he originally wanted to avoid telling who it was exactly he had a crush on!) I told the girl that she was a fool if she didn't realise that what he did had given her an advantage.
"He made me look weak!" The girl retorted.
"He made you look desirable!" I snapped back, telling her how everyone was calling them the star-crossed lovers.
"But we're not star-crossed lovers," She told me.
I had just about had enough of this girl. I slammed her against the wall, I shouted at her, anything to make her see sense! She pushed me away, still defiant. Thankfully Cinna stepped in, and managed to convince her. The situation abated, we sat down for dinner, and watched the replay of the interviews. The boy's hands were bleeding so badly after falling into broken pieces of urn that he had to be taken out to get bandaged. Although his hands could be repaired, nevertheless he'll be disadvantaged in the arena. I couldn't help but feel responsible. I understood why the girl was so angry, and it was something I should have anticipated. This girl, who had for so long hid her feelings, concealed what she was thinking, and this one boy's declaration of love for her caused her mask to fall off, exposing them to the rest of the world. If someone had made me drop my own mask at that age, exposing me as anything more than a cocky, laid back guy who didn't take anything seriously, I would have punched the person too!
After the two left (and I gave them some last words of parting wisdom), leaving just the grown-ups in the room, Cinna looked at me.
"So, was it really the boy's idea?" He asked.
"Well he certainly wanted to talk about his crush," I told him.
"And the reason none of us were in on what you were planning because?"
"Because the boy told me this in confidence," I grinned.
Cinna looked furious at me. As far as anyone knew, this was all just a strategy we came up with, and I would not betray the boy's trust, that this was how he actually felt.
"You think this is funny? Is this a joke to you? You just went ahead with this big revolutionary plan of yours without consulting the rest of us! And you really embarrassed Katniss out there."
"Hey, a moment ago you were agreeing with me!"
"I only said that for Katniss' benefit, and you know it!"
"Well maybe like Katniss instead of being angry with me you should be grateful!"
"Grateful?"
"That girl needed all of the help she could get! Mind, I'm still amazed that you managed to make her at least passable-"
"Well maybe that's what happens when you say things like romantic as dirt or compare her to a dead slug!"
Effie gasped.
"Haymitch! You didn't!"
Clearly the girl had no problem opening up to Cinna.
"Just who do you think you are? You're just a fashion designer, you're not a mentor! You have no experience of trying to prepare kids for the arena, to make sure they survive-"
"AND EXACTLY HOW MANY TRIBUTES HAVE YOU SAVED?"
It was as if I had been whacked across the face with a large sack of bricks. I could see Cinna instantly regretted what he said.
"Haymitch, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that!"
Maybe everyone expected me to get angry. Maybe everyone expected me to get violent, to tell Cinna to get out.
Instead I just nodded.
"You're right," I muttered, "You're right."
Cinna tried to apologise.
"Haymitch-"
Turning away from everyone, I slowly walked out of there. Going to the top of the building, I sat down, and looked out at the city.
How many have I actually saved? That answer was easy! 0. None. What Cinna said to me made me face what I have always tried to deny, that the reason I never had a victor wasn't because the tributes never received training like the careers, or that they didn't take up a job until after they were too old to be tributes, or because they were underfed, but it was because of me. That I was too impatient. Too unpleasant. Too prone to drink. But I always did my best to help the tributes! And I'm sure I helped the boy! And I definitely tried to help the girl!
Ok, I shouldn't have said she had the charm of a dead slug.
And maybe I shouldn't have said that she came across as moody and irritable every time she opened her mouth, which was true, but I only said that so she could improve herself!
And maybe I shouldn't have said that the boy's approach was to be likeable, implying that she wasn't.
And I definitely shouldn't have been drinking at all during our session.
I was no good at this. Well, it's not like I had anyone to teach me this mentor stuff! I had to work it out on my own, as best as I could! Sometimes I wonder if I should have let Mel volunteer in my place. I'm certain he would have been able to get through to the girl, have more patience with her than I did and certainly not get drunk while doing it! Maybe he could have won, and not the way I did, a way that didn't anger the Capitol. I couldn't help but wonder that perhaps he would have had better luck with all of the tributes compared to me. Maybe at least get one of them home. But then what if he didn't? What if he had no better luck than me? After all, Raybearta had nearly fifty years of tributes and couldn't get a single one home. What if he ended up becoming a drunkard like myself? Or a morphling addict? Or ended up losing his mind? Then there's the fact that his children would have been targeted for the games. And then there's the fact that he would have been sold into sexual slavery and forced to go through with it or everyone he loved would be at risk. No. No, I couldn't put my friend through all that. Even if it would have meant-
I could hear footsteps behind me. Judging from them, they sounded like high heels. And I only knew one person wore high heels like that in our little group.
"Oh Haymitch, you shouldn't take what Cinna said at heart!" Effie told me.
I took a sip from my flask.
"Why not? What Cinna said was right. I haven't saved a tribute ever, have I?"
I heard Effie sit next to me.
"Did you really call Katniss a dead slug?"
I turned to look at her.
"I said she had the charm of a dead slug. That really doesn't sound much better, does it?"
"No, it doesn't. But I won't say it was entirely your fault. I'm not condoning what you said or anything, but I know how…difficult Katniss can be."
"What happened to being one of the best tributes you ever had?"
"And she is! But that's not to say that she wasn't – challenging to work with."
I laughed at that. Challenging was putting it politely. Still though, I couldn't help but think about this girl, about how everyone who knows her seems to adore her, from the crowd of district 12 who honoured her when she volunteered, to the boy who seemed more concerned with her surviving than him, to the prep team who love her, the stylist who came to her aid, how the whole Capitol cheered for her, even without the star crossed lovers fiasco. She shoots an arrow at the Game Makers, and they reward her with the highest possible score! Even Effie, who found the girl to be just as frustrating as me, called her one of the best tributes she ever had! Am I missing something? I mean sure, everyone loved her old man, except it made sense why they liked him, he was a very likeable guy! Yet this girl was as likeable as, well, me! And you can already imagine how likeable I am! I thought about her old man, and how I wasn't the only one enchanted by him. That's not to say he didn't have skills, gifts even, but everyone back home acted like he could…what's the phrase I'm looking for? Walk on water? But not me. I saw him for what he really was, just another guy from the seam trying to make a living like the rest of us.
"Mind you," Said Effie, "She wasn't as bad as you at that age. At least she tried to make an effort. Eula told me how whenever she gave you an instruction, you did the exact opposite."
This surprised me.
"I wasn't aware you kept in contact with Eula."
"Of course. We have lunch every year, between games."
"How is she?" I couldn't help but ask.
"She's in good health. You know, you could always see how she is for yourself."
I turned to look away. No. I had no interest in seeing Eula, not after she abandoned me after saying that she would never. I downed the last drop of my flask.
"I need to get some fresh air," I said.
"You're already getting fresh air," Effie pointed out.
"Well then I need some exercise as well."
By exercise I meant a walk. Down to the nearest bar. I planted myself in front of the bartender, and asked for the least alcoholic drink he had.
Now came the hardest part of being a mentor, the part that I wasn't looking forward to, the part I was glad to give up when I stopped trying. Which child to keep alive? The boy, or the girl? I went through their individual skills. Well, the boy excels at hand to hand combat, and he's strong and good at wrestling. In close fight he would likely win, even if the injuries to his hands might put him at a disadvantage. But how well would that translate to using a weapon as opposed to your bare hands? He also excelled at camouflage, which was an important skill. The girl on the other hand was more of a long-range killer. A bow and arrow would put her on the same level as the careers, and her experience of hunting in the woods would mean she would have no trouble surviving. At least in a temperate, wooded environment. And that's the thing. The environments of the arena could vary. At least anything with trees would suit her. But if the arena was treeless like desert or ice then she would be screwed. And then there's the fact that she would be only exceptional in a fight if she had her hands on a bow and arrow. Oh sure there would be one at the cornucopia, but I told her to stay away from it. Therefore the only way she could get her hands on them were if she was nearby a dead tribute, likely a career, which would mean finding them dead would be less likely than a non-career. So on one hand I had a choice between one tribute who would be good and camouflaged and in close hand to hand combat, and another who would be exceptional but only in a specific environment with good luck.
Then I thought about the difference sponsors could make. The boy was handsome, likeable, funny, and he would certainly have the capitol's sympathy for being in love with a girl who was ultimately his competitor. Yes, he would certainly have favourites. But the girl on the other hand had seem to won the capitol audience over too, with her willingness to sacrifice herself for her sister, like the boy had been made unforgettable by Cinna, has the top score from individual sessions, and was the boy's centre of affection. Yes, I was certain I would have no problem getting sponsors with her.
I went back and forth between the two, even going by the most insignificant aspects, thinking it would give them an advantage or disadvantage. I didn't usually find it this difficult to decide which tribute to save. I know that's an awful thing to say, but in the past I had no problem deciding which tribute had the better chance of living. Here, I was stumped. Well, I do get along with the boy more than the girl-
No, no, no. I could never make the decision based on that. It should only ever be on which tribute had the better chance of living, not on how much I liked them. That was just callous, even for a sport where you had to choose who lived and who died, and you were completely stumped as to who to save. And it's not that I didn't like the girl – well, we certainly didn't get along, but she reminded me so much in different ways of her old man, of Ray, and, well, me. I couldn't condemn a girl to death just for being like me! And besides, if the girl died and the district were convinced that I didn't do all I could to save her, then I would likely be banned from the hob, and where would I get all my liquor then?
Hmm. That's a good point. Whenever before a seam tribute would die the most that would happen to me is that the family would want nothing to do with me. When a town tribute died the affected family would bar their services from me, which was more of a nuisance. But if the girl was to die, I could lose access to something I actually need, whereas if the boy was to die, then I would only be banned from the bakery, and to be honest bread hardly made up my daily diet!
No. I couldn't make a decision like that either, based on saving the tribute who would benefit me the most, no matter how much-
I felt a strong hand slap me on the back. Someone sat next to me.
"You seem down in the dumps, eh, Haymitch?"
I turned to looking into his grinning face. Brutus. One of the mentors for District 2. Ever since he became a victor. And I'm pretty sure he encouraged his tributes to specifically target district 12 and brutally murder them. I was sure it was because one of the tributes that I personally killed in my games was his older brother. See, it wasn't just for glory that career tributes volunteered for. It was also revenge in case they had a family member who was killed in a previous game. If I came from a career district and my brother was killed in one of the games then I would certainly volunteer.
"What do you want, Brutus?" I snarled.
"There's no need to be so grouchy, old man."
It was weird being called 'old man' by a guy who was only a year younger than me. Then again, I haven't aged well, compared to someone who looks in much better shape.
"I'm here to offer you a deal."
"And why do you think I would ever accept a deal from you?"
"I wish to offer your boy a chance to join the career pack."
An alliance. I was set against the tributes making any sort of alliance, even with each other. Sure, allies can be useful. I wouldn't be alive today if I didn't have an ally, but then you have to go through what happens when they die…No, it was better that they get through this alone. And I certainly wouldn't have wanted them to make an alliance with the careers. Survive or not, they would have become pariahs at home.
"Not the girl?"
"She's…. adequate, from what my tribute told me. I don't know what she did to impress the game makers, but from what I heard she's nothing special."
I had to suppress a grin. It seemed my plan of making my tributes appear mediocre worked, as the careers were far more likely to hunt those they considered a threat first, especially those who turned down their offer to join their pack. I heard that the boy from District 11 turned them down, so if he got through the bloodbath he would certainly be at the top of their list.
"But the boy, on the other hand, I'm told proved to be a great melee fighter. And good at camouflage too."
"And yet I don't recall being told that the pack ever approached him before."
"The circumstances have changed."
"…You mean how he expressed his love for his fellow tribute? And you really think someone like that will willingly help the pack kill her?"
"Oh come now, Haymitch, do you take me for one of the Capitol who buys into lovey dovey romance?"
Again, I had to stop myself from smiling, as Brutus had no idea that the boy genuinely had feelings for the girl.
"Besides, A little bird told me that she did not take too kindly to his confession. And if it is true, well, what motivation it would give to kill someone who spurned your love."
Even so, I highly doubt revenge was something that was going through the boy's mind.
"Also, how do you think the girl would be prepared if this boy who expressed his love for her would be ready to kill her?"
He finished his drink.
"Consider my offer, 12. Your tribute's life is at stake. Meet me back here at midnight if you're interested."
And he left me at the bar. Joining the careers would have been one of the last things I would ever suggest to the kids. Also if he joined a group that was intent on killing the girl, then it might damper the star-crossed lovers plan that their greatest chance of survival depended on.
However, Brutus didn't know that the boy really did have feelings for the girl, or at least overestimated his feelings for retaliation. And if he was part of the pack then he could misdirect them from the girl.
I checked my watch. Downing my drink at the bar, I decided I needed to speak with the boy about this first.
