oOo

Effie was so excited!

It was the first time she'd been invited to a presidential party - in this case, the banquet after the end of the Hunger Games.

Admittedly, District Twelve had done abominably in this year's Games, with both tributes dead within a minute of the starting gong. Those spiked maces had been rather brutal.

But she was still an escort. And still a part of the Hunger Games.

...And unfortunately responsible for making sure Haymitch Abernathy didn't make too much of a fool of himself.

She did her best to enjoy the food, the drinks, the conversation - all the while following Haymitch with her eyes so she'd know if he started to cause a scene.

She was in line to meet Finnick Odair - last year's Victor - when Haymitch started staggering.

Sighing, she left the crowd and got an Avox to help her lead Haymitch back to the Training Center.

He staggered through the halls, stumbling as he walked. But she managed to get him to the District Twelve rooms and onto the sofa, where he promptly collapsed, snoring.

She groaned and straightened her wig.

What an utter mess.

oOo

Finnick greeted people, joked, ate.

Pretended he was enjoying himself.

It felt almost like he wasn't really there, like someone or something else was controlling his body instead of him.

Mags, Fisk, Natalie, Kaya, Skiff, Jack - all of them were doing their best to be helpful. Supportive. Even the Victors from the rest of the districts did what they could.

It only helped so much.

Remembering the twelve-year-old who he'd volunteered for, whose life he'd saved- his third-oldest sister's soulmate, unexpectedly - helped more.

But even that wasn't enough.

Once Four's tributes had died, he'd been sold. His body no longer belonged to him. It belonged to the Capitol. It belonged to President Snow. And the two weeks he'd had were already more than enough.

Mags had prepared him the best she could. But he hadn't been prepared for the anger. He was a killer. He'd killed four children. What was to stop him from killing this Capitol bastard who'd bought him?

Of course, it wasn't that simple. He had people he cared about. Mags, the other Victors. His family. His friends. All of District Four.

But now, looking at the words around his hips - hidden by makeup whenever he had an assignation - he wasn't so sure he wanted to meet his soulmate after all. The lettering was far too fancy to belong to anyone but a Capitolite. And to think his soulmate was one of these people, one of these gluttonous self-centered peacocks who knew nothing of the Districts, of being a Victor, of going hungry…

He laughed at something the woman speaking to him said while he watched the crowd. Oh good, one of the people waiting to speak to him was moving away… toward Haymitch of all people. Must be his escort. One fewer to have to be polite to. Silently he thanked the other Victor.

Another of the twittering birds came to him then. "Oh my, it's such an honor to meet you!"

His heart sank.

"I bet on you last year and I was so glad when you won!"

Not his soulmate. Silently he thanked everything he could think of, but he put on his false face and said, "Well, I'm glad to meet you as well."

She blushed. "Oh, thank you!" Then she continued babbling.

While he interjected appropriate nods and hums, he thought about how close this twittering bird, this doll, this plastic person had come to being his soulmate.

No. He didn't want to meet them. And if he did? He'd have to find a way to make sure they never knew it was him.

oOo

This year was going to go better than last. Effie was sure of it.

Instead of leaving Haymitch to his own devices, she kept him with her and made sure to ply him with food as well as the alcohol.

He seemed less drunk, anyway, even if he spent a lot of time watching the newest Victor, a girl from Seven who'd been so smart to pretend she was meek… and then come out as a vicious killer! These Games had been ever so exciting.

Dragging Haymitch to another group, she was pleased to find it included Finnick Odair, who she hadn't gotten to meet last year. They joined the group as Honoria Templesmith flittered away, and Effie elbowed Haymitch as daintily as she could. "Introduce me."

The man scowled at her but waved a hand at her. "My escort, Effie Trinket. You know Finnick."

Finnick Odair bowed and took her hand, kissing it lightly. "Miss Trinket," he said, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

A part of her stood on tenterhooks as it always did. She'd lost count a long time ago of the number of people who greeted her as 'Miss Trinket,' but part of her would always hope.

"Oh my, it's such an honor to meet you! It's not every day one gets to meet the youngest Victor in the history of the Games - winning at fourteen is simply amazing! I'm ever so pleased to meet you!"

His eyes flashed and a sensual smile spread across his lips. "It's my pleasure."

But he didn't react, not really. So he couldn't be her soulmate. Shoving down her slight disappointment, Effie smiled and batted her eyes. Goodness he was so handsome.

Of course, Haymitch had to go and ruin it.

The intolerable man chose that moment to vomit. All over her brand new shoes!

She plastered a smile to her face and called for an Avox, then dragged her charge out of the room.

Maybe next year she'd draw Haymitch back to his rooms early with the promise of alcohol. At least then she could go back to the party and enjoy herself, unlike this year, when she was still covered in vomit!

Sighing, she returned to the rooms in the Training Center, pulling Haymitch with her. Maybe she'd be able to get a shower there.

oOo

Finnick had been hoping that two years after winning the Hunger Games, his popularity would have faded.

Fat chance of that.

Oh, sure, the Capitol liked Timon well enough, and they were fascinated by Johanna. But Finnick's popularity hadn't waned at all.

He still had a list of patrons to satisfy.

This was his life now: training the schoolkids throughout the year, mentoring tributes through the Games, and fucking whoever President Snow pointed him at.

His patrons had started giving him gifts: jewels, money, more things than he'd ever been able to dream of as a fishing village kid growing up in Four. Last night, he'd asked for a new sort of payment.

A secret.

It burned in his brain, the truth the Education Minister's wife had told him about President Snow. He didn't know what he was going to use that information for, but he would find something. Somehow.

Finnick tuned back into the conversation he was nominally participating in when Haymitch arrived, his escort pulling him along.

The woman elbowed the drunk Victor in the side and Finnick was reluctantly amused. "Introduce me," she hissed.

Haymitch scowled. "My escort, Effie Trinket. You know Finnick."

He bowed and kissed her hand as he'd learned the Capitol ladies liked. "Miss Trinket."

She blushed. "Oh my, it's such an honor to meet you! It's not every day one gets to meet the youngest Victor in the history of the Games - winning at fourteen is simply amazing! I'm ever so pleased to meet you!"

His soulmate. Fuck. Taking care not to show even one bit of what he was thinking, he said, "It's my pleasure."

She batted her eyes at him. It was almost offensive, considering he was only sixteen. Even if he felt like he was thousands of years old.

Fuck he hoped she didn't try to buy him. He wasn't sure he could bear that, being used by his soulmate in that way. Fuck fuck fuck.

This was nothing like he'd dreamed.

He sent a pleading glance at Haymitch, who nodded slightly, then vomited everywhere, including all over his escort.

As the woman pulled him away, Finnick watched them go, his heart slowly calming. He hadn't even realized how fast it had been racing.

Mags came up beside him. "Is everything all right?" she asked quietly, standing on tiptoe to get as close to his ear as possible.

He smiled weakly. "I think I'm tired. Do you think I can go back to the rooms?"

Her answering smile was sad. "You know the answer to that. But we can go to a balcony for a bit."

It was the best he was going to get, so he gallantly escorted his old mentor - walking slower and slower every year - to one of the balconies overlooking the Capitol. They stood in silence for a while, watching the lights of the city and the celebrations in the streets.

"You were right, you know."

She just looked at him.

He touched the words on his hips, still hidden by both makeup and his pants. "It wasn't what I expected."

"Haymitch's escort?"

He should have known she saw everything. He nodded. "Yeah."

Mags put a hand on his shoulder. "We're still your family, lad."

He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head. "I love you too, Mags."

oOo