The Capitol loved his new self. Unfortunately for them, it was gone the next year.
He was of no use that year. Haymitch had almost left him in District 12 that year, but decided it would be unwise to leave him by himself, unattended. Even Haymitch was unnerved by how hollow his eyes were. He did not hear a single snarky comment that year. (However, he didn't hear much of anything that year).
Back in District 12, he only ventured out of his house in the Victors Village once a week. He had no reason to leave it more often. On that one day, he would check on Haymitch and make sure the man had not drank himself to death. Then he would race to his family's bakery, because he heard the whispers and saw the stares (every single one) as he walked the busy streets in town. He would hide back in the kitchen, and listen to his father talk about business and the weather and other light, simple, safe subjects. He'd even listen to his mother's complaints about how much work there was now that he only appeared once a week. (He also listened as his father whispered worries to his brothers about him. And he would think, At least they still care).
He followed his routine with such an exactness that it was impossible not to notice when something was off.
He stepped out of his house one day only to stop dead in his tracks. The empty, silent house that had haunted his memory for long was very much alive again. Lights shone from clean windows and smoke billowed out the brick chimney. He stood there just staring for a long time. Because he had to be dreaming or hallucinating or something. It simply could not be real.
Slowly, he made his way toward the house. The house had become an unnoticed prop in the background of his world, so it was strange to see it active again. He did not even bother with knocking when he reached the front door. He just opened it (because it didn't matter. This was just his imagination play a cruel trick on him).
As he stood in the foyer of the house so similar to his own, he saw a blonde head poke out from behind a door with wide, startled eyes. Then, with a sigh of relief, a girl stepped out into full view.
"Oh goodness, you scared me."
Prim looked so much older from when he last saw her. Her hair was longer. Her face seemed more mature, but still so innocent.
"I was afraid you were a Peacekeeper finally come to kick us out." She said with a little laugh (as if anything about this was funny).
"What are you doing here?"
"We're back," She said with a delighted smile.
"Is..." But he could not bring himself to ask about her.
Luckily, Prim filled in the blanks. "It's just my mother and me here right now. But we'll be gone soon."
"Why are you here?"
"To gather food and medical supplies for our old home. My mother wants to set up her old shop again."
"Wait, you're back in the district for good now?"
"Yes."
"All of you?"
She gave him a pitying look. It bothered him. He had been pitied by the Capitol, by his family, even by Haymitch, and he did not want anyone else looking down on him. "Yes, all of us."
"Where... she..." Again questions about her were stuck in his throat.
"She's," He wished she stop looking at him like that. He didn't want her sympathy. "She's with the Hawthornes right now."
And he could not be in that house anymore. He had to leave. It was too much. It was too real.
"I have to go." And he was gone.
He left the Victors Village immediately, wanting to be as far away from that house as possible, and went straight to the bakery that day, forgetting to check on Haymitch. The whispers and glances seemed to come from every person he passed, and he knew they all knew. They had probably already seen her while he was hiding away in his house.
"Oh, hello, son," His father greeted when he walked through the front doors of the bakery. He always came through the back. "You're here early."
He could tell his father knew by the concern he wore on his face.
"How long?" He whispered. His voice was hoarse.
His father was quiet and he knew the man was thinking about lying, pretending he didn't know what he was asking about.
"Just tell me."
"A couple of days."
"And everyone knows?"
"I've heard lots of talk."
The door opened and a couple obviously from the town walked in. There conversation halted and they looked at him with the exact same expression Prim had and he needed to go, get out of there (because everyone had known, except him). He ignored his father's calls for him to wait and nearly sprinted back to the Victor's Village.
By the time he was in front of Haymitch's door, he was practically fuming. He was angry with Haymitch for not telling him this, for keeping another secret from him when they had promised long ago to stop.
He found Haymitch passed out at his kitchen table.
"Wake up!" He gave the drunken man's shoulder a few (hard) shakes.
"What?" Haymitch growled at him, annoyed from being woken up in such a violent manner.
"Why didn't you warn me!"
"About what?"
"They're back. They're back and you didn't tell me!"
"Who's back? What are you going on about?"
He was even more furious with the old man. (He had convinced himself at some point in his anger that this was all Haymitch's fault).
"Don't do this to me, Haymitch. Don't lie to me anymore!"
"Would you quit yelling? I'm not lying to you! What's got you so upset?"
"She's back and you didn't even bother to tell me! What, did you just assume it would be better for me to stumble upon the fact? That I'd see one of them eventually and figure it out? Or were you just too busy drinking yourself into a drunken stupor you couldn't find the time to tell me!"
Haymitch glared at him and he knew he had hurt the man.
"Katniss? I'm assuming you're talking about Katniss?"
"Who else?"
Haymitch sighed, reaching for the closest bottle of liquor. "I didn't know-"
"Don't lie-"
"I did not know," He stressed each word, "I would've told you if I had. Here," Haymitch handed him the bottle. He took it. "You could use this right now more than I could."
He sunk into one of the wooden chairs around the filthy table. The alcohol burned on its way down, taking place of the fiery anger that had melted away.
"You know why she's here?" Haymitch asked getting up looking for another bottle for himself.
He shook his head and took another swig.
(It was weeks later when he actually saw her, moving into the Victor's Village. That night he almost died from the amount of Haymitch's liquor he had consumed. It wasn't seeing her that had hurt him so bad. It was seeing the little, black-haired baby she held in her arms).