Chapter Sixty-Two; Out of Options

(Stephanie's POV)

Stephanie chewed at her nails as she frowned down at the Capitol from the relative safety of the District 3 penthouse.

What had begun as an absent-minded, nervous habit turned into a furious battle as the Capitol reinforced nails refused to relent under her teeth.

Haymitch entered the kitchen suddenly, momentarily startling her. He sighed deeply, running a hand exasperatedly through his hair.

Kicking out a chair he dropped himself heavily into it, staring morosely at the table.

Stephanie furrowed her brow, her stomach twisting in nervous knots. That didn't look good.

"So…" she prompted meekly.

"Do you want the bad news or the bad news?" he asked humourlessly, his gaze flickering over to her for a moment.

Stephanie almost groaned – What other kind of news was there here?

Resigning herself to the inevitable she took the seat facing him, clasping her hands in front of her waiting.

Haymitch wasted no time with pleasantries to ease her into the bad news.

"Party. Tonight."

Stephanie stared at him dumbly for a moment, hoping against hope that she had misheard him.

Haymitch's expression told her she had not.

"Who?" she inquired fearfully.

"Everyone," he answered.

"Flickerman?"

"You bet."

"They are going to try for another interview at the party, aren't they?"

"Most likely."

Stephanie dropped her head into her hands in exasperation.

"I'm just about getting sick of these damn, stupid parties," Stephanie spat the last word out.

"Well, at least training starts in two days," Stephanie added after a moment. Her stomach gave a series of nervous twists. She didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Part of her was immensely relieved; no more social events for a while, no more opportunities to create chaos.

Stephanie didn't expect to stand out as brilliant in the training. She couldn't fight. But at least she would be able to blend in and appear mundane for once since arriving at the Capitol.

However the other part of her was terrified by the last thought. I can't fight – The words her mind screamed at her in blind panic when she caught glimpses of the other far more skilled tributes.

I can't fight; The words a cold death sentence that managed to sneak its way into her very heart, sending out a thousand needles of ice cold fear through her veins, leaving her shuddering uncontrollably.

Haymitch stiffened and as she looked up, she saw the tenseness in his rigid shoulders as his grey eyes were fixed on some point on the table in front of him.

Stephanie guessed a similar thought about her complete inability to fight was on his mind as well.

Haymitch still said nothing, silently taking her hand in his as she reached across the table.

"What's the strategy?" she asked him, finding it hard to even care anymore.

What did it matter? When Flickerman would clearly twist her words like he had done at the previous interview.

It had all meant to be brilliantly simple. Keep the attention fixed on her Capitol Admirer and the whole thing would go smoothly. However the whole thing had imploded when Flickerman had taken it a step further, changing the dynamics entirely. Flickerman had scuppered everything when he had turned Stephanie's vague words about a mystery Capitol Admirer, into a focused manhunt for her non-existent Capitol Lover!

"The same as it was," Haymitch answered immediately.

Stephanie opened her mouth, about to point out just how well that plan had worked when Haymitch cut across her.

"To be honest sweetheart, we're running out of options here. We're just going to have to ride this one out as best we can. Go along with Flickerman's 'love appeal' charade…" Haymitch trailed off, irritation seeping into his words, though not directed at Stephanie.

"I just hope I can fool him second time around as well," Stephanie muttered, her brow furrowing.

She had no doubt that everyone would be watching her even closer this time around – if that were even possible.

"I wouldn't worry about it sweetheart," Haymitch said dryly, but there was a steeliness to his slate-grey eyes that chilled Stephanie to the bone. Haymitch's next words rendered her completely speechless.

"Flickerman doesn't believe it himself – He's been bought."

Bought? By who? Why? – For what purpose? Who could possibly benefit from her disastrous interview?

Granted it lessened the competition for other tributes but Stephanie hadn't posed that much of a threat to begin with. And would anyone really go to such trouble to sabotage her chances?

The sound of the lift arriving sounded through the silent penthouse and on instinct Stephanie ripped her hand from Haymitch's, her thoughts still troubled.

Frenkin was the first to appear at the threshold of the kitchen archway and his face broke into a wide, relieved grin.

He rushed over to Stephanie and Stephanie stood and readily enveloped him in her arms, ruffling his hair slightly when he pulled back.

"I didn't know what had happened to you," Frenkin confided, his expression serious once more, his wide, blue eyes earnest.

Stephanie gave him a small smile, raising a hand to his cheek for a brief moment.

Stephanie did not get to give any response however for Ficen appeared at the door then.

Bright, Lashes and Silver stood behind her already armed with long plastic coverings concealing yet more Capitol outfits, looped over their arms.

Stephanie sighed as she met Ficen's impatient waiting gaze.

…

The car ride to the venue where the party would be was mostly silent, except for one conversation that immediately had Stephanie on edge.

"Stephanie, Frenkin pets – now I want you to be perfectly sociable tonight," Isa stressed to both of them, her emerald eyes surrounded in gold glitter.

No one replied to her.

Even the stylists' chatter amongst themselves was more subdued than usual, especially given that they were heading for a party.

As far as they were concerned Stephanie had just signed her own death warrant with the interview – not that they had held out much hope to begin with – that and the fact they were still busily gossiping about who this Capitol Lover could be?

"Now would be a good chance to get to know the others," Isa added.

Stephanie arched a perplexed brow, casting a side-long glance at Haymitch.

Stephanie desperately hoped Isa was not insinuating what she thought she was.

But of course – Isa was.

"The other tributes will be there," Haymitch explained quietly.

"I didn't think socialising with them would be a good idea. There was no sharing a few laughs over drinks at the last party that I can recall," Stephanie hissed by way of reply.

Wouldn't she have enough on her plate at this party without having to worry about other tributes?

"Yea, well many will see this as a golden opportunity," Haymitch answered.

"For what?" Stephanie's eyes widened in shock.

"To try and find out strategies, discuss possible alliances, get to know their opponents completely beyond physical skills. Find out which tribute is likely to stab you in the back and which would be the one stupid enough to be stabbed."

Stephanie leaned back in the seat, nausea broiling in her gut as Haymitch explained how for the entire night she would also be subjected to the Careers planning out her death.

Stephanie closed her eyes briefly hoping for even a snippet of…peace, in this living horror she had been forced into.

She was seriously beginning to doubt she would make it to the arena with her sanity intact.

The car door opened and they all exited the car making for the building in front of them.

Stephanie took a deep breath, steeling her nerves; training started in less than two days and then she would be free of these idiotic parties for a while at least.