AN: I decided it was about time for an update. Thanks again to all who have been reading and reviewing, especially to Laxgirl92 who reminded me it's been forever. :) It really means a lot to read what you have to say.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games nor any canon characters. I love Suzanne Collins for what she has given me and would never in my life steal from her.

"Rye?" I snap and run out of my compartment, desperate for answers, for comfort, anything. Haymitch is still up. As was Char. They look as though they had been discussing the Games before I barged in. "Rye is in this. Did you know?"

"What?" he frowns. "No, I promise you. When did you learn this?"

"Who's Rye?" Charlton yawns.

"The recaps. I just watched the recaps. Rye was reaped."

"Wait," Char grins, "is Rye that one kid?" I shoot him a confused glare. "That one doctor's kid who was all over you? Aurelius, right?"

"He was not 'all over me.'"

Char leans back into his chair and folds his arms. "Perfect."

"What do you mean, 'perfect?'" I sneer.

Haymitch adds, "Yes, speak up, boy."

"Well," Char stands and nonchalantly starts back to his own sleeping compartment, "I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but with Rye in the Games, Phoenix doesn't stand a chance."

"What are you talking about? Rye wouldn't hurt me."

"Exactly. I've seen the way he looked at you. Treated you. You may have been children, but, by your sudden worry and emotional outburst…"

"I didn't-!"

"… I'm willing to bet the feelings are still there." He smirks. "That being said, I'm sure Rye would get himself killed before letting you get hurt and, if he dies, well, would you be willing to live with that?" I said nothing. "And there you go." He walks into his room but, just before closing the door behind him, looks back at us and says, "Ironic, isn't it? Daughter of District Twelve's star-crossed lovers, a star-crossed lover herself? It's clichéd. And annoying." Then he disappears.

A cold, sickening sensation returns to my stomach. "Char's right." I say, still in shock. "Absolutely right, Haymitch. I can't go through with this. I'm going to die because I am not going to let Rye die. I refuse. Haymitch, I.."

He slaps me. My hand grabs my stinging cheek and my blue eyes stare at him in horror. "Get a hold of yourself, young lady," he hisses, "and don't ever let me hear you say that again."

"But…"

Haymitch raises his hand to me again and I flinch, shutting up immediately. He lowers his hand and starts pacing. "Just like your parents," he sighs, "and that's not a compliment, either. You cannot let your emotions guide you through these Games, understand? They don't work that way. They're built so that any feeling you have will get you killed. You need to be unfeeling, damn it."

"My parents weren't! And they won twice, Haymitch! Twice!"

He lowers his voice to a quivering whisper. "Yes, but I didn't promise their parents they would come home alive! I didn't promise, Phoenix." Haymitch sits in one of the chairs, buries his face in his hands. "I promised your parents." He rubs his temples. Are his eyes watering up? "I promised I would do whatever it takes, and I won't let you jeopardize that with stupid feelings for a stupid boy you haven't seen in forever." He looks up. Yes, his eyes are glossy. There's a tear escaping down one cheek. "Promise me," he says. "You promise me that you will get out of there alive."

My heart melts at his caring tone of voice. Haymitch was the closest I'd ever get to a grandfather, since both of my actual grandfathers had died so long ago. I shake my head slowly. "I can't make that promise, you know that. There's no telling what might happen. I could die the first day."

"Stop," he shuts his eyes, "saying that. This is your problem," he now glares at me. "You have absolutely no confidence. Alright, yes. You're terrible at archery. So is your father. He won. You're terrible at hiding your feelings no matter what you may say or think. So is your mother. She won. Stop looking at what you can't do and look at what you can. This boy isn't your weakness, you are and you alone. This boy may even be your strength. If he dies early, you have to win for him. And if he makes it through the first day, you must live long enough to help him to the end, yes? Whereupon…" he looks away, "whatever happens, happens. But promise me, Phoenix," he sighs, "that whatever decision you make is the reasonable one because…"

I furrow my eyebrows. "Because?"

"There's something we haven't told you. Your parents and me, I mean. And Effie, sort of."

I kneel next to his chair and make him face me. "What?"

"Well, we were hoping you'd figure it out yourself. But you're the new mockingjay, now."

My jaw drops open. "What?"

"You're the daughter of the two most famous victors to ever compete in The Hunger Games. If you win, all of Panem will follow you. We can take down Coin and start the next and final rebellion."

"Haymitch! I can't…"

"You can. Stop saying you can't, Phoenix, because the more you say it, the more you believe it, and the more you never will."

"But…"

"And that's all I'm saying on this matter." He stands and walks away from me. "Oh, something else I forgot to tell you," he adds before leaving for his own compartment.

"What?"

"Due to lack of resources and the fact that Coin's too lazy to renovate anything, District 12 has been sharing everything with District 13. That includes living quarters up at the Capitol."

My heart sinks again. "So… I'll be sharing…?"

"The top floor of the training center with Rye and your parents, yes. Get some sleep, Mockingjay."

AN: Funny side note, when I finished this, I almost uploaded it and then I realized I'd written mockingbird instead of mockingjay. Le sigh. xD