Chapter 7

The san sank lower in the horizon, bathing the sky in bright orange and ombre pink. Haymitch sat across from her, his fingers curled around the neck of the wine bottle.

When there was a lull in the conversation, he poured her another drink – her second glass tonight. Loose tongue talks, he rationalised.

"There's nothing to it really," Effie said.

"Heard that one before," Haymitch teased. "Might even come from me – should I get that patented, you think?"

"Oh, shush. You're not the only one allowed a mystery."

"I don't have a mystery. I just don't have a story worth telling. But you do, don't you? How'd you end up here? Come on, sweetheart, I'm curious."

"I wanted to make a name for myself. That's it – plain and simple. I had designs of dresses and clothes, an entire portfolio from when I was a teenager. It has always been something I enjoyed doing. I had plans to make it into my career. I imagined a boutique with my name on it. That was my dream, one that I had to cast aside because of my mother's."

Haymitch listened without interrupting. Her eyes had taken on a faraway look, as if just by recounting it all, she had been transported to a time long gone.

"I was a child star," she told him and waited for that flicker of recognition in his eyes. When there was none, the quiet sound coming from her was actually Effie laughing in delight. "After that, it was modelling for brands, just like my mother when she first started. My sister was smarter than I was. She found something she enjoyed doing – cooking, if you would believe it – made her own show from it and when that wrapped after a few seasons, she quickly left the entertainment industry. She found a reputable man my mother approved of and never looked back."

"My brother left the modelling business just as well and started his family which he used as an excuse not to go back. It also meant that all the pressure for a family legacy – my mother's legacy - fell on me. I was the only one left she could pressure into making a name, just as her mother pressured her into it. By then, I had moved out and found a place of my own, and still, she loomed over me. Eirene, my sister, doesn't say it but I believe she still feels guilty about leaving since I had to bear the brunt of it. I began to realize that wherever I went people knew me as Lysandra Trinket's daughter. Have you heard of her? You must have."

Here, she watched him carefully. Haymitch did not find the need to grace that with an answer since she was completely sure that everyone, including him, had heard of her famous mother.

"I am Effie Trinket, my own person. I shouldn't be defined by my mother and her career. It was… It was not the life I dreamt. Five years ago, I found my old portfolio and it … when I held it in my hand I felt something familiar rushed over me. I knew what I wanted then. My dream had always been there, lurking and this time, I want to see it through. I started sketching and designing again. I also began to reach out but I learnt that all those people only agreed to meet me because of my mother and not because I had a good portfolio. They saw it as a way to gain my mother's favour. I had no plans on riding on my mother's name for success. It would be easy, yes, but there was no challenge to it, yes? No satisfaction from knowing that my success is my own. I had to step out of her shadows."

"So you came here?" he gestured around him.

"It wasn't planned," her eyes lighted up as she recalled it. "All my life, I planned everything carefully to the minute details but not this time. I took a map to my nephew, told him to close his eyes and point. Wherever that is, that is where I'll go. I ended up in Italy!" she told him with a grin. "That was four years ago. I lived there a year. It didn't work out."

A quick mental calculation of the timeline brought him to the realisation that that would be when her parents sent Seneca Crane after her and she fled.

"All was not lost though. That one year taught me a lot. I brought my sketches and designs to life and began selling from my small apartment. I did not have a shop but when I settled here in Singapore, it was something I wanted, something I needed to prove to myself that I could do it. Here was perfect, too. It's far away from my family, very far. They can be quite… suffocating," she trailed off, twirling her wine in the glass. "Do you have a family, Haymitch? Parents that expect you to conform to their standards..?"

"They're dead," he said flatly. "Never knew what they'd except from me."

Usually, he would refrain from talking about his family with just anyone but he could offer her that at the very least for the things she just shared with him.

What he wasn't expecting was her hand reaching across the table to squeeze his.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Haymitch."

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "It was a – It was a long time ago."

She ran her thumb across his knuckle even as his hand twitched in her grip.

He had no idea what they were doing. They had somehow ended up at a restaurant across his hotel after their return from Haji Lane. Their dinner was long done and they were just drinking through the wine. From where they were seated, the buildings that made up Marina Bay Financial District glinted under the moonlight.

"It was on the plane to Singapore that I crystallised my plan. I decided that I have to find my niche, something I know I will enjoy and to focus on that. I love weddings," she declared and retracted her hand. "That's the story of how I came to own a bridal boutique with me tailoring and designing my own wedding dresses. The rest, as they say it, is history."

He raised his glass to her and she clink her glass against his, proud and pleased. They drank to that even if Haymitch desperately wanted the wine to be something stronger. Whiskey, preferably.

"I have to say, however, that I must have alarmed my father when I cleared out every single cent in my bank account right before I moved from Italy," she giggled lightly.

Her voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch and she seemed more relaxed. She wasn't drunk but the wine was doing its job in loosening her a little.

"Frankly, I was quite surprised he did not freeze my account by then which works well in my favour. I needed the money and I couldn't have him trace where all of it was going if I keep taking from it every now and then. I learnt that lesson. So I had it all transferred and to be perfectly honest, I did it to spite him too," she grinned.

"Yeah?"

Now they were getting somewhere. That bit about stepping out of her mother's shadow was a background he already knew but this hint of a tension with her father… Well, that piqued his interest.

"He never stood up for me like a father should. Didn't your father do that for you, Haymitch? Did he protect you and shield you? Even from your own mother?"

"This ain't about me," he mumbled.

He didn't want to talk about his father.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Your father didn't get you the car you wanted?" he teased.

Effie let out a breath and the strand of hair framing the side of her face flew outwards teasingly. She was quick to tuck it behind her ear, never once realising that Haymitch never took his eyes off her.

"All my life, he stood by and allowed my mother to talk me into submission. My mother is a bully now that I've thought about it. He presented me with ultimatums to keep the peace in the family. It was always about keeping my mother happy just so the house would not descend into chaos. 'Listen to your mother, Euphemia, it will make everyone's life easier," she mimicked bitterly.

Now that she was talking, she couldn't seem to stop. Haymitch had a feeling that nobody had ever sat down with her to ask her about her. From where he was sitting, she looked sad and perhaps, a little lonely. He was guessing, all she needed was a listening ear for her to actually talk and open up.

"When I refused, he took away the contracts that I had fun doing – modelling contracts, acting contracts. It was already not something I truly wanted but he took away what little I enjoy. In return, all the offers on my lap would be contract I was half-hearted to partake in. When I tried to launch my own designs with no sponsors, no backing from current designers and above all, no knowledge or experience on how the business world operates, my father quickly put an end to it before my mother could find out and throw a fit. She would accuse me of trying to upstage her, would you believe it? I had no way out. Nobody outside the household knew of course. I have gotten quite adept at putting on the smiles for the public but the truth is my father controlled my life as much as my mother did."

The same way Stefan was controlling him through Prim, Haymitch thought. At least, Lysandra Trinket was upfront with her ways. Her husband on the other hand was more subtle which, in Haymitch's books, made him more dangerous than his wife.

"They never said it to me, of course, but I was aware that they were talking about it between themselves. I'm the black sheep of the family. I do not listen to them. I argue and I am conniving when all I wanted was to do something that I wanted, the same way my brother and sister did. I rebel where I could. I would ask my mother for her opinion on two dresses, for example, and whichever she chooses, I chose the opposite."

"She would want me to date that director who already made a name for himself but I would date a photographer with only small projects to his belt. She preferred me in my natural hair colour provided that I styled it appropriately, so I would dye it red to annoy her. Once, when I was twenty-six, I put on a wig for an entire year – bubblegum pink, sea green, electric blue and my favourite, gold," Effie laughed at the memory. "Twenty-six was too old an age to be acting out but that was all I could do. I've always tried to be the perfect daughter and I supposed, I put up with it long enough. I had to draw the line even when moving out from the family mansion did nothing to ease my situation. I was terrified, naturally. I led my life sheltered in my parent's world and packing my bag to leave for another country was something I never thought I could do until I was pushed to it. I do not regret my decision."

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. He shouldn't have asked. He wanted to know the real reason she came to this city and got more than he bargained for. With all the knowledge that he had now, how was he supposed, in good conscience, get her to board a plane with him back to the States and never look back?

Prim was right. She was happy here. She had found her freedom and created something for herself, and he was going to be to one to ruin it.

Effie took in his reaction and assumed the worst.

"You are probably thinking - why is she telling me all these?" she laughed airily. "Let me assure you, I do not usually make it a habit to talk about my personal matters with anyone. My apologies, Haymitch. I bore you, didn't I?"

"To be fair, I did ask," he offered. "Maybe it's just me, sweetheart, people open up to this face."

He said it with a straight face and that only made her laugh a little louder.

"Perhaps," she agreed with a soft smile. She rested her hand gently on the base of her throat as her gaze lingered on him. "I do feel like I could talk to you, strangely. What makes you so special?"

Haymitch cast a surprised gaze at her before he slowly blinked. Her eyes were the brightest blue and he felt as if he was being pulled into an abyss. There was something about her that made him wary. A hint of fragility and strength mixing into one, a hint of danger with the way she was looking at him. For starters, he wasn't sure if she was trying to be flirtatious or even if that was her true nature. He could be reading the signals all wrong except he made a living out of reading people so he couldn't simply ignore this excited thrill running through him.

She was beautiful and hot, and it had been a while for him. Still, this was a dangerous game no matter how much he was enjoying it.

"There's nothin' special to it when your kid runs to your room with boy problems on hand," he reproached, bringing the topic back to somewhere safe while thinking of that one time Katniss had barged in on him while he was drinking. He still regretted the things he said to Katniss that day. "Wasn't in the right state of mind to help or listen."

"You … have a daughter?"

"Not mine, no. I mean, she's mine… in a way, but she's also not. It's complicated," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I helped her family once while on the job. After that, both of the kids got stuck with me. Their mother's still around but she ain't totally there."

Effie had barely scratched the surface with him and he had done well not talking about himself so in an effort to appear more genuine to her, he pulled a photo of Katniss, Prim and Peeta in front of the boy's bakery shop.

"They seem like nice kids," she commented and handed his phone back.

"They are," he affirmed.

He was also reminded that he should call them before they worry especially after learning what he learnt from Stefan Trinket. He would need to talk to Prim.

Today had gone better than expected. He had made contact with his mark, who was still watching him with that soft look in her eyes that made him worry, and he had established something with her. He would need to work from there but for now he was ready to call it a day.

Haymitch signalled for the bill.

"I'll get it," he told her.

Effie flashed him a smile.

No big deal, he thought, technically, I'm paying our meal with your father's money.

"You don't have to leave a tip here. It's included in your service charge," she explained.

"Oh, right," he said, finally understanding why the waitress had tried to return the extra money he left on the table when he first arrived.

Have you ever met someone and feel you could just talk to them? Maybe that's the case with them in his chapter or maybe, Effie just needed someone willing to listen ;)

There's a lot of talking here but something interesting should happen next week! But now Haymitch knows more about Effie's parents and who he is dealing with, esp her father.

In the meantime, leave a review!