The next in my quadriliogy! I'm really sorry I killed Brittany, I still feel bad about it, but she might make an appearance in this. And for the sake of my story, Annie wins the 71st hunger games. Not that it makes much difference.
And if there's any Quitt fans in this hizzy, read my other story, You Jump, I Jump. Shameless self promotion.
It's hard to type with a puppy on your knee, but I hope you all enjoy reading this!

I sit in the dining room at my house in Victor's Village, head slumped against the table, bottle of white liquor in one hand. I'd just returned from my first year mentoring for the Hunger Games.

Both my tributes died in the blood bath, which wasn't surprising, considering they were both 12, and so scrawny I could probably wrap my arm around them.

I hear my front door open and close, and I don't care enough to lift my head up.

"Well, Boobs McGhee, is that you for another year?" I lift my head up long enough to see Sue standing in front of me, smirking. "How's the victor?"

I just shake my head. This year's victor, a tribute from district 4 called Annie, came out of the arena broken. And not broken physically.

"I went to see her. Well, not see her, but I took Finnick some clean clothes. It was horrible. She was screaming and crying, trying to fight of things that weren't there." I mumble from the tabletop, still refusing to lift my head. Sue moves to take the chair next to me, prying my fingers from the neck of the bottle clutched in my hand, placing it on the table.

"So, she's a no go?" I look up at her and shake my head.

"How can you talk to someone who won't stop screaming for long enough for you to finish an entire sentence?"

"Fair enough," Sue pauses for a second, looking round my empty dining room. I'd taken down all the pictures a while ago. "What does Quinn have to say about this?"

"Quinn can go fuck herself." I rise from the table, grabbing the liquor bottle and stumbling through my empty house. It hadn't always been empty, it'd been full of life for the first six months I'd lived here, but now the place was so dead I barely spent any time here. I couldn't stand it.

Sue follows me, watching me sink onto the couch in front of the blank tv. "You agreed to this Santana, you were so full of passion in the beginning."

"Yeah, and look where that got me." I spit the words, bitter. Sue leaves with a sigh and I return to my drinking.

I'm on the train, back to the Capitol, drinking wine with Sue in the dinner cart, when our tributes for this year come in. The girl is 14, but is so mall she looks about 10. The boy is more promising though, strong from working in mines, and big. He towers over me, which is odd for boys from The Seam, as they never get much bigger than I am now. His family must be well fed.

We eat in silence, then Sue drags us all to the lounge compartment. We rewatch the reaping, eyeing up the competition, mostly in silence. We stay when the tributes leave for bed, staring at the tv.

"That girl isn't going to last a second." Sue tells me, frowning slightly. I know she puts on a brave front, pretending she's heartless, but she hates sending children to their death. I have to say, I feel the same. This will never be fair.

"There's something about the girl from 7" I tell her, draining the last of the wine from my glass and standing. "I can't place it, but she's not as weak as she looks."

I'm right, of course. Johanna Mason, the girl from 7 who went into the arena a snivelling mess, is the victor. She's tough, and because of her act, no one really pays attention to her. Not until it's too late. I'm in the training center, watching the monitors with Quinn when Johanna wins.

"She's what we need." I mutter, clutching yet another cup of wine. Everyone's assumed I'm a drunken idiot at this point, and no one really pays attention to anything I say anyway.

Quinn nods slightly, and I know she sees the same spark that I do. She gets up and walks to the elevator, and I follow her slightly. She clicks the button that will take us to the roof and leans against the side of the cab, eyeing me.

She does that every time we meet, staying quiet and looks at me with unreadable eyes, and first it confused me, which broke the way to pissing me of, but now I've just come to accept it's what she does.

When we're on the roof, she walks over to the edge and looks down at the city, watching the people below us party. There's always a reason to party here in the Capitol, which means lots of alcohol for me. She takes my glass from my hand and empties it out over the side of the building.

"Hey!" I hate it when she does that.

"I need you clear headed, how is this supposed to work if you're always so wasted you can't even remember your own name?" Her voice is soft, but I can hear the tension underneath it.

"That's the point." I sigh, slumping down onto the floor in a huff.

"So, you really think she's what we need?"

"Yeah, I can see it in her, she's angry. We need angry. And we have no one in 7 anyway, so it'd probably help us to have some kind of base there."

"I'll talk to her." She lowers herself next to me. "You know, you're kinda cute when you act like a 6 year old. Annoying, but cute." She looks out over the skyline, as if she's searching for something, then turns to me, the usual hardness in her eyes gone. "We can do this without you Santana, you know that. We need you… I need you. Please."

I just nod mutely, we've known each other 2 years and she's never spoken to me like this before. It's different.

She nods back at me, standing, and places a kiss on the top of my head, before returning to the inside of the building. I stay frozen, watching the day fade away.