I don't own THG, but the plot of this story and original characters are mine.

Chapter 20

Graham sits at a table in the bistro sipping on a martini. The sight of alcohol makes my stomach church. I'm ready to be done with it forever. I sit down in the seat across from him. I can tell he's had a couple and he wants to fight.

"You want a drink?" he asks.

"No. Thank you," I say stiffly.

"You look like you could use one."

"No, thank you." I repeat. "I don't want anything."

"How are you?"

How am I? Well for starters, my mentor's having a bad trip down memory lane with the Green Fairy and I don't know how to help him. I have a concussion. I watched eleven tributes die in a bloodbath this morning. And I'm supposedly sleeping with someone else other than you. The entertainment channel, TDZ, probably already knows more than we do about our relationship, or lack thereof, so let's just get this over with.

"Fine." I could never be honest with Graham about my emotions. It was always, 'Don't feel sorry for yourself, there are people in the Districts worse off than you,' or 'poor me, I'm not from the Capitol.' He's never seen me cry. I've never felt safe enough. With Dimitri, my emotions manage to find their way out there, and I feel like he understands me in some strange way.

"How's being a Gamemaker?"

I shrug. "It's alright, I guess. I haven't had to do anything yet."

"Yeah, except go to awesome parties. Why haven't you invited me?"

"What awesome parties?" I ask.

"Oh, you know the ones at the Opening Ceremonies at President Snow's mansion? Then the ones last night after the interviews." He leans in closer. "I'm your boyfriend you supposed to take me and let me in to all the awesome secrets. Like, do you know why Katniss got an eleven for her training score?"

"What, so you can brag to your friends? That's all I've ever been to you. Besides, I can't tell you," I say. "It's classified information. And the party at President Snow's mansion was for Gamemakers and mentors only. I didn't go to the one last night and I probably won't go to any unless I am required to attend."

"You mean you aren't going to go unless Dimitri goes," Graham scowls at me. I can tell by the tone in his voice this is going to get ugly quickly. Thankfully, there aren't a lot of people at the bistro. "I saw that little kiss at President Snow's mansion."

I shrug. "And? You were fondling some other girl at the party my Gamemakership was announced."

The color drains from his face. "You saw that? It wasn't anything…"

I shrug. "Doesn't matter."

He frantically tries to turn the conversation back to me. "So why has Dimitri been answering your phone the last couple of days?"

To tell him the true answer to that question would reveal why Katniss got that eleven in the first place. "I've been sick and he's been taking care of me."

"You're lying," he sneers "I can't believe this. If you were sick, why didn't you call me? I would have come and taken care of you."

Because you would have made it all about you.

"He's my mentor. It's his job. You said you wanted to talk about us," I interrupt.

Graham sighs. "To be honest, I don't know what that is anymore. It's obvious that you don't care about me. You're so caught up in playing Gamemaker and going to crazy parties…"

"You're always playing the victim card, and I'm tired of it." I reply. "You think that I should feel sorry for you because you're not from the Capitol and you lost your brother in the Hunger Games. That gives you every right to invalidate my feelings. Well, guess what? There are other people that have lost more than you. Some of them were forced to watch their loved ones die in front of them before they themselves were tortured. And all you can whine about is how you're not going to awesome parties. I have bigger things to worry about than that."

"So what are you saying? I'm selfish?"

"That's part of it." I answer.

"Why don't you go on ahead admit to me that you're sleeping with that ugly clown. Why else would he be at your place answering your phone?"

"Because I got a concussion, and no one he called would come take me home from the hospital and stay with me for the designated forty-eight hours."

"He didn't call me."

"You aren't family," I say. "And if he did, you wouldn't have come, anyway."

"I would have." Graham insisted.

"No, you wouldn't. Don't lie to me. If it's not about you, you don't care. If it doesn't ooze sex, then you're not interested." I spit. My cheeks are hot and my hands are shaking. People are beginning to stare at us. I try to keep myself from yelling. "And to be honest, I'm tired of your shit."

Before he can give me some smartass remark, my phone rings interrupting our conversation. It's Dimitri. The other person I don't want to talk to right now. "What?" I snap.

"Well, hello to you too. Where are my keys?" Dimitri growls. His voice is still slurred and his voice is still raspy.

"I have them." I cover the mouth of the phone and whisper. "It's important."

Graham drains the rest of his martini. "Of course it is. Everything's more important now that you're a fucking Gamemaker."

I grab my purse and escape from the table out of earshot onto the patio. My knees are shaking and I have to sit down in a chair. When did my anxiety get so bad? I wonder. "Do you need me?"

"No. I want my keys so Avis can take me back to the arena to pick up my car."

"I have your car. If it counts for anything, I can drive a stick shift. I drove your car home. Don't worry; it's all in one piece."

"Who the hell gave you my keys?"

"Elmo. He didn't tell you?"

"No one tells me jackshit anymore. You know that." Frustration laces his voice.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "Look, I have to go. I'm in the middle of something."

On the other end, drawers open and close loudly. "Most of my knives and both of my guns are missing. Do you know anything about that?"

"I might." I scuff my toe into the ground. I am cold even though it's rather warm outside and the sun is shining.

He sighs loudly. "Carmen, I swear to God. What the fuck? Why did you do that? Why did you go through my shit?"

"Can we talk about this later?" I ask. I look back at the door. Graham he's glaring at me from the doorway and he's ordered another martini. "This really isn't a good ti—."

"No, we cannot talk about this later. I need to know…"

"I'm with Graham." I blurt out. My eyes brim with tears. It's starting to sink in what I am about to do. This was a terrible idea do on the start of the Games. Emotions are already running high.

"What the fuck are you doing with him?"

"Guess." My answer comes out a squeak. I can't stop the tears running down my face. I wipe them away quickly. My makeup is probably smeared. It doesn't matter. Members of the Capitol get to see me fall apart. I suppose I deserve this.

"And how is that going?"

A loud sob escapes and I clamp a hand over my mouth. Someone hands me a napkin and I dab at my eyes. Thankfully, Graham has gone back inside.

He is silent on the other end. "I'd offer to come get you on my motorcycle, but I see those keys are gone too."

"They're on the counter in my apartment." I am terrified that Graham will come back and see that I've been crying.

"Duly noted. Where are my guns?"

"I'm not telling you. You don't need them. Dimitri…" The last word comes out in a whisper. I can't seem to form anymore words without crying.

"When this whole thing is over and done with we're going to have a nice long talk about boundaries." Dimitri says. "We're also going to talk about how stealing is wrong."

I squeeze my eyes closes and try to hold back more sobs.

"Do you hear me? You're lucky I know how to pick a lock. Where are you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. I'm going to come give that bastard a piece of my mind and maybe a side of my fist."

"Dimitri, don't," I warn. "He'll…"

"Carmen. What the hell is taking you so long?" Graham yells. "Come on. Put me first over your job for once. Hell, your piano gets more attention than me."

"You're going to make it worse. And you're drunk. Dimitri, don't be stupid."

"How am I going to make it worse? The guy's already a jackass. He's treating you like a whore, which is something that a: you are not, and b: you deserver better."

"Carmen!" Graham slurs. "Hang up with them already. It's not like you can lose your job."

"You are my tribute and it is my responsibility to keep you alive. Now, dammit Carmen, just tell me where you are."

"Carmen!" Graham yells. He's moving towards me. The manager is trying to distract him.

"Hey buddy, if you keep this up you'll have to leave." The manager says trying to block him from getting to me. Graham pushes him aside.

"Robin Alexander's." I whisper and hang up.

"Who was that?" Graham demands.

"How is that any of your business?" I snap.

"You're cheating on me, aren't you? That's why you're crying." He grabs my arm roughly and pulls me out of my seat. He's trying to create a scene, I realize.

Technically, I guess that's true. I've kissed Dimitri twice, but it didn't mean anything. Did it? No, I decide. It didn't mean anything. The first time he kissed me. He had been drinking. I only kissed him in the arena to prove a point. Surely Graham doesn't know that.

"I am not." I retort. "And for the record you're not Mister Monogamist either. I can think of at least two occasions…"

"Well we both know that she never liked me." Graham interrupts. He begins on his third martini. "I was never good enough for Vivian Hyde's daughter."

"And for good reason." A familiar voice says behind me. "To be completely honest, she's better off without you."

I freeze. How did he get here so fast? He must have picked a lock to my apartment then called me when he couldn't find the guns. Sneaky asshole. Still, even if he did break in my apartment to get the keys, I'm glad he's here.

Graham's eyes widen at Dimitri standing at the gate, wearing his motorcycle helmet with only his eyes visible. He stands there with his hands on his hips. Curly red hair splays over his shoulders.

"Who are you?" Graham scoffs. His fingers dig into my arm, just like President Snow's dug into my shoulder earlier. I repress a shudder.

"Simply an innocent bystander who believes in doing the right thing." He shrugs as he pulls of his leather gloves. "Don't you have better things to do than physically and verbally abusing your now ex-girlfriend in a public place?"

"We're still together," Graham spits at him. "And why don't you fuck off."

"Are you telling me you haven't broken up with him yet? Carmen!"

"You know this asshole?" He jerks my shoulder roughly. "Is this the one you've been cheating on me with?"

"No. I'm not. I've never cheated on you with him. I don't think this isn't working out," I say, trying to distract him away from Dimitri. "Why don't we go our separate ways and forget it."

Graham pushes me to the side and ignores me. "Did she ask you come here?"

Dimitri gestures to a table. "This is a restaurant. Maybe I'm hungry. Like I said, I was driving by and saw you harassing her, so I stopped."

"If you weren't such a coward, you'd show you're entire face."

"Oh trust me, I am no coward." Dimitri's mutters taking off his helmet. "There. Satisfied, pretty boy?"

"You're right. It's not me, it's you. And breaking up with you hurts me more than it hurts you." Graham sits down at the table. "Especially since you're leaving me for someone as ugly as him. What a downgrade!"

"Does it?" An ornate knife with a jagged blade embeds itself into the table in between Graham's fingers with deadly accuracy. Dimitri's voice is deadly quiet. The slur that I heard on the phone is gone. He is cool, calm and collected. Graham jumps back and falls off his chair onto the concrete. Several people gasp. A crowd has gathered on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. The scars on his mouth make him seem more threatening.

"If you're asking those kinds of questions then it's a pretty clear indication that you're guilty." His hand is still gripping the knife.

"You don't know…" Graham tries to scramble to his feet, but all the alcohol has made him unsteady. He trips over an untied shoelace. "You don't know me."

"Why don't you stop talking in clichés and say what you mean?" Dimitri growls. He pulls his knife out of the table and tosses it in the air. "By the way, you missed one."

"You… you…" Graham stutters as he trips over his own feet. "This isn't over, Carmen. "Tell me, did I ever treat you badly? Did I ever…"

"If you don't shut up, you're going to lose a finger," Dimitri grumbles. "Could I have a menu and maybe a different table? I don't want to sit with this bozo."

The wait staff hurries quickly to accommodate him. Dimitri claps a hand on Graham's shoulder and yanks his shirt so they are nose to nose. "A couple of words of advice: you don't break up with your girlfriend in a public spot as an attempt to get your fifteen minutes of fame. Secondly, do it sober. Thirdly, if I even hear of you threatening Carmen again I will personally see to it that you pay dearly. Do I make myself clear?"

A few people clap at Dimitri's threats. They always like a good show. I wonder of they recognize him with out the creepy makeup.

"Leave it to Carmen to have someone to do her dirty work for her. She was always a bit of whore. Just like her mother." Graham says scornfully. He tries to twist out of Dimitri's grasp, but that gets him nowhere. Dimitri only tightens his grip on him.

"Oh, stop bringing people's mothers into this argument. What are you? Twelve? Correct me if I'm wrong," Dimitri tsks, shoving him away. "Weren't you the one who said you thought things weren't working out?"

He looks at the patrons in the bistro. They nod in agreement. In their ridiculous outfits and makeup, they sit at the edge of their seats to see what happens next. People like them take pride in watching other people air their dirty laundry in public.

"Yeah, but…"

"Then technically, I did nothing to end your relationship. I just stopped you from harassing her and creating a scene. You can't be mad at me. It's your fault. I had no impact on the decisions you chose to make."

"But you threatened me," Graham says. He's clearly confused.

"No, no, no, I only made you put what you were implying in clearer terms; which is you are a pompous, attention-seeking nincompoop, and it clearly is you and not her that is a dealbreaker for this relationship. If you can even call that poor excuse an attempt."

A few people laugh and clap. Graham realizes that Dimitri has made a fool out of him. Swearing, he lunges at Dimitri, but Dimitri moves out of the way and deflects his blow easily, causing Graham to fall into a table. He knocks it over and lands face first onto the concrete. Blood squirts out his nose. His arm is bent at a strange angle. The manager comes rushing to his aid, yelling something into his phone.

"I may be ugly, but at least I have a personality. I also know how you should treat other people. Carmen, what did you see in this clown anyway?" He wraps his arm around my waist protectively.

Graham yells obscenities at him as several male waiters come to try to calm him down and a Peacekeeper comes and escorts him out of the building in handcuffs. I feel some satisfaction as he is lead away.

"Thank you," I say softly. I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face into his shoulder. Bystanders clap.

"Don't mention it. It's my job to keep you alive," he whispers into my ear. "Even when you steal all of my weapons and that makes my job very hard."

I blush. "You could just punch him in the face, or throw him into a table."

The manager strides up to us. "Could you two stick around, we've got Peacekeepers coming to arrest this guy for disturbing the peace."

"Yeah, can we have two menus?" Dimitri pulls his Gamemaker badge out of his jacket pocket. He nods that I should do the same. I dig through my purse and show it discreetly. If Dimitri gets in any legal trouble, his status will help him. The fact that Graham tried to assault a Gamemaker, well, in any rate he's screwed. He's not my problem any more.

The manager gestures us to a near by table that already has two menus sitting on the table. "Please let us know if we can help you with anything."

"That's so romantic," a girl exclaims to her friend. "I want a guy to come rescue me from my ex-boyfriend."

"He looks so…dangerous and sexy," her friend sighs. "I wonder if he's single?"

"What? Are you jealous?" Dimitri asks as he pulls out my chair. "We should celebrate your freedom from that asshole."

I roll my eyes. If they knew what he was doing a few hours earlier, they wouldn't be thinking that. "Of course not," I scoff. The fact that both of them are staring at me makes me very uncomfortable. I focus my attention on the menu.

"Can I get you something to drink?" A waitress asks.

"Just water for me," I say.

"Coffee, no cream or sugar and a water."

"He's probably secretly in love with her and he's been waiting for her to break up with him." Another girl from the table diagonally from us, whispers.

I'm sure Dimitri is just absolutely pining.

I look up and Dimitri is staring at me looking amused.

"What?" I ask irritably.

"Nothing. Just looking at you, that's all."

"Well, stop. What are you going to get?" I ask, changing the subject. I keep my eyes focused on the menu. Nothing seems appetizing. My stomach is still churning from the aftermath of nerves of dealing with Dimitri's episode, my confrontation with Graham and the beginning of the Games.

"I don't know. French onion soup or maybe some eggs."

"That sounds like a gross combination."

He chuckles. "Not together. I would never do that."

"I might go for the grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup," I say. "My stomach still hasn't recovered from this morning. I can still smell the blood."

"You're going to smell a lot of blood in the coming weeks," Dimitri says, focusing on the menu. "You might as well get used to it. Baked apples also sound good."

"You could get French Onion soup, a salad and baked apples. I don't know how you're stomach is feeling after the last couple of hours."

"The Capitol makes some wonderful drugs," he answers. "It's a shame they don't have a cure for stupidity."

The waitress comes back with our drinks and sets them in front of us. "Are you ready to order?"

"I'd like a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tomato soup," I answer.

"And I'll have the French onion soup, a small spinach salad and a side of baked apples, please," Dimitri replies as he hands her our menus. He doesn't say anything until she leaves. "What happened after I… you know, left."

"More tributes died," I say. "Plutarch showed me more features on the laptop." I leave out the part with Contessa and my second meeting with President Snow that reinforced the horror of the Games. "He also told me that I had access to any of the past tributes and victors."

"I mean, if you wanted to watch the past Games you're welcome to. You said you didn't watch any growing up?"

"Not really. My Grandmother made us not watch them, if she could help it. And my mother was never around, giving that she was a Gamemaker."

"What else?"

"Then I drove your car home. Thought you might be impressed that I can drive a manual car.

"You know there's a button that you can push that makes it so you don't have to shift, right?"

I shrug. "I felt… dangerous."

"Where'd you learn to drive a manual? That's not a standard teaching here."

A smile creeps onto my face. "From a Victor in District 8."

"You're a piece of work."

"So are you," I retort.

"Touché." He toys with the salt shaker. "Are you trying to burn bridges with everyone today or just the men in your life?"

"You're one to talk about burning bridges," I say. "And besides, I have a bad track record with men, just like my mother."

He snorts. "That's not… that's not true. She has a pretty good track record with men that aren't your father, no offense."

"She likes victors. I know a lot of them." I fiddle with the peppers shaker. The backs of our fingers touch. The contact of our skin is like electricity. "When I got up the next morning, they were leaving. Finnick Odair would always stay for breakfast though. So would Chaff, Brutus, and Blight. "I don't remember you though. You didn't look familiar at all when I met you."

Pain fills his eyes and he stops toying with the salt shaker. "I was her guest once, but I didn't… didn't fulfill her needs. Something came up that night. I… I was needed elsewhere. She never did invite me back."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter. I looked pretty different back then anyway. It's probably better that you don't remember me." Our hands still rest against each other. The gesture makes me want to cry because it is a reminder of what I have just lost. I take a deep breath and swallow hard and stuff the emotions back inside of me to keep for another time; a time when I am alone and fully let them out.

"You can cry about it, it's okay." Dimitri says softly. "Let it out. No one here is going to begrudge you that. He's an asshole. You deserve better than him."

His fingers wrap around mine. Tears streak down my face for the umpteenth time today. I can't look at Dimitri, so I focus on our hands. The texture of his palms are rough, a pleasant change from the softness of the Capitol. My father's hands were rough. He said it was from handling paper all day. It dried out his skin "Why did you come?"

"Why shouldn't I have?" His hazel eyes met mine. "I'm your mentor, aren't I?"

I take a deep breath and try to remove my hands from his. An hour or so he was violently drunk and angry. "We shouldn't be holding hands. People will suspect things."

"It's too late for that sweetheart." He keeps a hold on both of my hands. "Let them think I'm confessing my love for you. It won't hurt anything. They like drama like this."

It's not like we were fooling anyone anyway, I think. The Peacekeepers are arresting Graham. He scowls in our directions as they handcuff his hands behind his back. The manager points at us and at Dimitri. I catch the words "harassment" and "Gamemakers."

"Three days. I need three days to think and pull myself together." Dimitri continues. He rubs his forehead. "It's been so long since I've mentored and dabbled in Capitol circles. I need time to think, plan. We need to assess your skills and your aim."

"I'm pretty sure I won't be able to hit the side of building with a bat if my life depended on it," I say glumly. "We don't learn that sort of thing here."

Dimitri squeezes my hands. "I didn't exactly know how to fight or use a knife when I came into the arena. I only got a seven in my private session. I almost died, three different times. Once out of my own stupidity and the second time I was stabbed by another tribute, the third I was attacked by a mutt. Stop discounting yourself. You may not be Katniss Everdeen or a tribute from Districts 1, 2, or 4 with weapons, but you are smart. I don't know anyone who can play as well as you."

"Thanks," I say. My fingertips stroke the jagged scar on his forearm. "I haven't preformed recently. Which concert did you come to?"

"They were a while ago. One was several years ago, and the other a year or so ago. Both were by accident."

"I've improved since then, at least I hope," I say. "I've learned several new sonatas and concertos."

"What piece are you learning now?"

"Franz Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody in C-sharp minor. I haven't practiced very much in the last couple of days."

"The last couple of days have been busy," Dimitri says simply. Then he takes a sip of his coffee.

The waitress comes back with our soup. The smell of the soup makes me realize that I am hungry. We eat our soup in silence. I think back to my concerts, trying to remember the faces in the crowd and if Dimitri was in them. "Do you remember the date?"

"It's not important." He stirs his soup to cool it.

"Why are you telling me this if it's not important?"

"Because I'm trying to tell you that you're undervaluing yourself. Have you ever read the book The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe?"

I blow on a spoonful of soup. "No. I've never heard of it."

"It's an old book from the old days. Anyway, there's a girl named Lucy. She's the youngest of her the four kids in the book. She's the one who found the land of Narnia in the wardrobe. Anyway, the point of this story is you share a lot of characteristics of Lucy. You don't recognize your worth."

"You like to read?" I suddenly realize how heartless and arrogant that comment seems, but Dimitri's reaction is one of amusement.

"Yes. I also like wine."

I laugh. "The last one I knew. How's your soup?"

"It's quite good. Do you want to try it?"

"No thanks," I say shyly. "What… what do you do to get over a breakup?"

He doesn't say anything for a moment, focusing mainly on his soup. "I've never really had that problem."

I bite my lip and stare hard into my soup. I feel like crying. I'm saying all kinds of wrong things today. "I…I didn't mean it like that."

Thankfully, the waiter interrupts our conversation by bringing the rest of our food.

"I know." He clears his throat. "The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."

"I can't do that."

"Why not? That's generally how it goes in the Capitol. That's why relationships are so messy. No one stays faithful. You know that was one of my duties as a Victor?" His eyes rest on mine. There's no malice in them, only weariness. He's dredging up old memories.

"That's why I don't want to rent someone out for the night. When I am…intimate with someone, I want to be their only one. I think that's what hurts the most," I answer. "Is that I'm not good enough for someone to stay faithful to me."

"That's not true. And trust me, I know what if feels like to be disposable and used. I totally hear you. It fucking sucks, but you know, there's someone who thinks you're worth it. And they'll give everything they got to keep you.

My eyes tear up again. Dammit, what is wrong with me? I try to wipe them away quickly. "I think I just need to go home and cry." Though honestly, I want to ask him. "Why are you saying all these nice things to me?"

"Eat your lunch and then we can go home and you can cry all you want." He reaches over and wipes the tears from my face. I must look a sight. My eyes are probably all puffy and my nose is running.

We eat the rest of the time in silence. Dimitri looks pale and tired. Whatever energy he had is wearing off. His hands shake a bit when he raises his fork to his mouth. This is very curious, but I don't say anything. It's probably just the alcohol, though with as much vomiting he had, it would be all out of his system. Medical things such as the absorption of alcohol into the blood are not my strong suit.

As we part ways, Dimitri says. "I'll make you a deal. You have three days to cry, sleep around; whatever you need to do to get over that asshole and then our training begins. I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone."

It sounds fair. I'll grieve my relationship and he'll grieve his Games and his memories. He hugs me and I bury my face in his shoulder.

"Thank you." As I pull away, my lips brush his cheek.

He blushes and then clears his throat. "Oh, if you want it, the offer's open," He says gruffly.

"What offer?"

"I'm a little out of practice, and it's not that big…" His voice trails off.

I frown. "I don't quite understand what you're trying to tell me."

He makes the motion of his hand going over his head. "If you feel like you need to get under someone to get over…"

"No," I interrupt. "I couldn't do that to you, Dimitri."

"Okay." He smiles sadly and kisses my forehead. "See you in three days."

A/n: Please leave feedback.