Chapter Ninety-Five; A Rose and its Thorns

(POV)

"This latest act is very bold indeed," the younger man remarked calmly, smugness dripping from his tone as he eyed the television screen.

However the elder man's eyes never once looked at the television screen as he examined the clipped neatness of his fingernails. They weren't painted any ridiculous colour or modified in any way like some of the imbeciles in this Capitol, but merely they were the result of precise care and a life of luxury.

As the elder remained silent, the younger chanced a glimpse at him, daring to speak. "What will you do, Sir?" His beady eyes flitted over to the TV screen and the Capitol report.

The elder glanced up, a look of icy calmness on his face. "Infatuations are silly little matters that shrivel up and wither like a summer rose in winter…The only thing is making sure one doesn't get caught in its thorns."

The younger man smirked knowingly, nodding his head slightly in acknowledgement, the light catching the orange streak in his hair.

"Our unfortunate acquaintance seems to have become quite ensnared in this particular rose's thorns," the younger said quietly.

The elder man looked up at him. "Well, do you know what you do when one rose is strangling the rest?"

The younger man looked to him expectantly, a menacing gleam in his eyes.

The elder's eyes were ice blue cold when he answered.

"You cut it out."

…

(Stephanie's POV)

Stephanie pressed her face against the cool glass as she looked down at the people scurrying to and from cars as they had been for the past hour.

The late night announcement had caused nothing short of pandemonium.

Event planners were having meltdown crisis as events that had been scheduled for the weeks after the training had to be hauled forward.

That in turn had stylists in absolute uproar as they rushed to finish outfits that suddenly had to be presented pronto.

Capitol security went into upheaval as the distribution of guards had to be swiftly rearranged from the training centre to the outer events.

Mentors were busily congregating at The Hive with escorts trying to work out if this could be worked to their advantage and in more hushed whispers – What had happened for the Head Gamemaker to make such a brash and last minute decision?

And caught amongst the fray, tributes had nowhere to go and nowhere to be and so were left drifting about like loose ends.

Stephanie actually felt sorry for those tributes that would be left fretting and worrying, after having mentally prepared themselves for training only to find that it had been cancelled.

Haymitch had yet to return.

Frenkin had yet to return.

Even Isa had not come back yet.

Bright and Lashes had got a phone call from Ficen not too long ago and were now rushing about like headless chickens at Ficen's bidding.

Hoping to escape them Stephanie slipped into Haymitch's room. It was the one place she could think of where they would have no reason to go.

Stephanie curled up on the bed, inhaling the scent of the sheets that reminded her of Haymitch.

But even when she closed her eyes Stephanie could not find sleep, not when her mind was buzzing with thoughts like a hornet's nest.

Most of those thoughts she was annoyed to admit concerned one Seneca Crane.

Was this what he meant when he said he would prove he loved her?

Stephanie scoffed. The damn idiot had a funny way of showing it; waving her off to the slaughter in a death-trap arena of his creation.

Stephanie massaged her temples wearily, thoroughly fed up with the blue-eyed Gamemaker. He had caused nothing but trouble for her since the beginning and he seemed to set to continue until the end.

Stephanie was just about weighing up the chances of finding alcohol if she foraged about Haymitch's room, when the sound of the lift arriving reached her ears.

Not wasting time Stephanie immediately sprinted for the hall.

She could have almost cried with relief when she saw Haymitch striding into the living room; looking a little worse for wear but he was here! And in Stephanie's mind that was what counted most.

"Haymitch," Stephanie breathed gratefully.

He managed to give her a weak smirk by way of response, while Bright and Lashes meanwhile gushed praises that they no longer had to 'babysit the tribute'.

Stephanie felt her anger bristle at that but decided it just wasn't worth arguing with them, for the simple fact that they would never be able to understand that they were being insulting.

Bright and Lashes dashed past them in a mad sprint for lift already babbling in high voices.

Stephanie followed Haymitch into the kitchen where he proceeded to silently pour himself a large drink of something, that from the overpowering smell could have been paint stripper.

Stephanie gagged slightly as Haymitch knocked the whole thing back in one before slamming the glass down and fixing her with a decidedly disconcerting stare.

"Seneca postponed the training because…" Stephanie trailed off, but from the flash of silver fire in Haymitch's eyes he knew exactly what Stephanie was going to say.

And he didn't offer to contradict her.

Seneca had postponed the training to allow her more time to train because…he – loved her.

Stephanie still couldn't wrap her head around it.

She hated Seneca Crane. The only things she had ever been to him was either terrified or when she was feeling particularly stupid, extremely nasty.

What kind of man wanted that?

Stephanie groaned, inhaling deeply before she would impart to Haymitch the next part of Seneca's promise though she had no doubt that Haymitch had already worked it out by now.

"Seneca says I will win the Games," Stephanie said quietly.

Haymitch's hand tightened so much around the glass in his hand Stephanie feared it would break.

But Stephanie couldn't blame him for his anger.

Haymitch had been doing everything in his power since the start to make sure Stephanie won, including mopping up Seneca's disastrous mistakes. As the selfish Gamemaker puzzled through his feelings leisurely – Haymitch had been making up believable cover stories; Capitol Lover & District Lover.

Bile rose in Haymitch's throat as he thought of that particular one.

Capitol Lover & District Love… He had never realised just how bitterly true those words would become.

And now Seneca Crane had just waltzed into the scene, suddenly deciding that he might just have a shred of feeling left in him afterall.

To say Haymitch was furious wouldn't even cover it.

Stephanie bit her bottom lip as she dug her nails into her palms.

She had the awful feeling that she was trapped in a house made of cards and they were all collapsing around her. Everytime she tried to put her hand out to stop one, she caused another five to fall.

"What happens now Haymitch?" Stephanie asked. If she knew what was coming, if she could prepare for it, then she would at least gain some control over the situation.

Haymitch looked up at her, his eyes suddenly bleary.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly.