A/N: OMFG GUYS! MORE THAN 20 reviews for last chapter? I LOVE YOU! Here's the new chapter, I finally decide to update a week earlier than I had planned XD

(P.S: longer author's note in the bottom!)

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, but I'm still happy and excited because of last chapter! Haha:)

I'm out of touch
I'm out of love
I'll pick you up when you're getting down
And out of all these things I've done,

I think I love you better now

"Lego House" - Ed Sheeran

When I go back from lunch in President Snow's mansion, my hands are shaking.

I get into the elevator and push the button that closes the doors. But before it completely closed shut, Haymitch wildly appears. He slips through the gap between the doors and stands beside me.

I open my mouth, but then I close it again. I want to say something, but I can't. I can't form any words. I'm scared. I'm so damn scared. What does Snow want from me now? What did he mean by his words? Was he threatening me? Was it because of the words I said? What's going to happen now, are mom and Prim in trouble? Or even Gale?

We finally arrive at our floor and I sprint out to reach my room, but of course Haymitch stops me. He looks at me with his I-know-some-crap-happened-so-just-talk-to-me-because-I'm-older-than-you-and-I-can-handle-it look, but I shake my head.

"Talk, kid," he grunts.

I look around because I'm sure this place isn't safe for a talk, so I just grab his hand and lead him to the place that I know must be safe and unbugged. The roof.

Once we arrive there, I blurt out everything to Haymitch. And as I expected, he listens to me carefully… but not without taking the flask from his pocket.

"This is no time for getting wasted, Haymitch," I scold, but make no move to get rid of the alcohol.

He shrugs. "Actually, this is," he says, taking a gulp. "Want some?"

I stare at the flask he's holding out to me and bite my lips, considering taking it for a while. A second later, I grab it and take a small sip and let the liquid run down my throat. It burns, it doesn't feel great, and it almost makes me choke, but it's fine. I need a distraction. I need something that can make me stop thinking. Getting drunk that is.

"See? It's not half bad," he says as I take a bigger gulp.

Turns out alcohol and me don't get along too well, because just in a matter of seconds my head starts to spin. But I take it as a good sign.

"What do I do now, Haymitch?" I say. "I just lost Peeta. I can't lose them too." Haymitch doesn't stop me when I take another gulp. By now I start to slur. "Was it somethin' that I said?"

"No," he says. "Nothing wrong with that, sweetheart." I make a move to lift the flask to my lips once again, but this time he snatches it away. "That's enough for a kid like you."

"But I need more," I whine.

"Trust me, you don't," he mumbles, and takes a sip for himself instead. And then he mutters. "That man is sick."

I look up at him. "Has this happened before? Threats from Snow. Bad things happening to the victors."

He looks at me as if I'm the biggest idiot on earth. "Of course, sweetheart. It happens every time. This is not the first," he says, and then added quietly, "but I'll make sure this is the last." He then stands up to go back to his room.

"How?" I ask, following him two steps behind.

He shrugs. "We'll find out later."

I close the door behind me and begin rubbing my temples. The dizziness won't go away even though I've closed my eyes and open them and blinked and shake my head and did everything. The world spins in my eyes. It won't stop. It won't stop. It won't stop. Stupid alcohol. How does Haymitch do this every single day?

I stumble to my bed and sit on the edge of it. I put my head on my hands, still trying to stop the headache but of course it doesn't work.

I will never drink alcohol ever again.

Or maybe not.

"Drink water. That'll probably help—I don't know, I had never gotten drunk before," says a voice that I know too well—it has been in my head ever since I got reaped. I snap my head toward the voice—of course, it's Peeta again. Hallucinations must be another side effect of getting drunk.

"What are you doing here?" I say, tiredly.

"You want me to go away?"

I think for a moment, and sigh. "No."

He tilts his head toward the glass on the bedside table. "Drink it."

I take the glass and gulp down the water. Nothing. I'm still dizzy. Stupid Peeta.

He shrugs, "Don't blame me. Told you I've never been drunk before."

"Good to know."

"No need to be all cranky, Katniss. Do I bother you that much?" he jokes.

I want to smile, but I can't. Instead, my lips curl down to a frown. "What are you?"

"What am—what?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"What are you, Peeta? You're dead. Why are you here? You shouldn't be here," I mumble, and then slam the glass on the table. I stand up and begin pacing back and forth. "Why am I seeing you? Are you real?"

I finally stop and look at him. He's frowning. "I… I don't know, Katniss."

"You don't know? How can you not know?" I whisper/yell, feeling frustrated. "I don't understand!"

"Neither do I," he says. "I just know that I've left some unfinished business," he says, emphasizing the word 'business'. "And I have to get it done before I can finally go."

"What business?"

He shrugs. "I guess that's what I'm still trying to find out. But despite the circumstances, I'm glad that I can see you again."

But that still doesn't answer my question. What is he? I could be just imagining him right here, right now.

"Anyway, you look beautiful in that dress."

I look down at myself and mumble, "Thanks."

"Sunset orange, isn't it?" he says. "Was my favorite color."

I give him a faint smile. "This kind of orange? Not like Effie's new hair color?"

He laughs. "No, no. Exactly like this," he smiles. "I used to beg my father to take me outside the town around sunset, because I wanted so badly to see it. One day he finally agreed and granted my wish. He took me out and we walked out of the town. We walked and walked and just walked until we passed the Seam. Finally, we stopped near the fence. I was so mesmerized by the sight of the woods outside the fence. It was beautiful, so unlike the town."

His face lights up and I can't help but smile.

"And then he laid down on the grass, and he asked me to do the same. So we both laid there, stared up at the sky that was beginning to darken. I saw birds flying by, so freely, and I wonder how it would've felt to be like them. As we waited for the sun to set, my father told me another story about the girl who he was in love with who ran away with a coal miner. He had told me that story for as long as I could remember, but still I listened carefully to every words he said, and again, I wondered why in the world a girl would choose a miner instead of my father. He always told me that he lost her because he couldn't make the mockingjays sing with him. And then he pointed one of the them in the sky.

"He told me, 'Here, let me show you why I could not win my lover's heart.' And then he began to sing. His voice was so bad that we both laughed. And then I said, 'I guess now I should learn how to sing with the mockingjays, so I can win her daughter's heart.' And he just laughed because he remembered how I had pointed at you on the first day of school and said that I wanted to marry you.

"And when the sun finally went down, we both sat up. For the first time in my life, I saw the sunset. And I fell in love with it right away."

His eyes are shining, so full of life if it's even possible. He looks younger when he told me the story, seems so stuck in his memory land, and I don't blame him for it. I've seen hundreds of sunsets myself, and I always fall in love with it all over again.

"Do you wanna see one?" I offer quietly. I walk over to the window and look through it. The sun is indeed beginning to set. And even though the colors seem to bright and fake and so Capitol-ish, a sunset is still a sunset.

"See? It's beautiful. Well, not as beautiful as I remembered," he says, smiling.

I roll my eyes playfully, "It's because this is the Capitol's sunset," I say, "where everything's supposed to be perfect."

"Not everything, though," he mutters.

I no longer pay attention to the fake sunset and instead I'm staring at him. I start to wonder if he is really just a hallucination. But if he is, how could he be telling me all this? If I'm just imagining him, where did the story about the sunset come from? And if he isn't just an imagination, what is he? A ghost? A spirit? A guardian angel?

And what kind of business is it, that he has left unfinished?

My head spins again, but this time it's even worse because a wave of nausea hits me in all sudden. Before I can vomit on the floor, I run to the bathroom and empty my stomach in the toilet. Remind me why I decided to bring that damn flask to my lips.

Once I'm done vomiting violently, I wash my mouth with cold water over and over again, trying to clean the disgusting taste in my mouth. I realize I was still wearing Cinna's dress, so I decide to go take a shower and later change to a pair of pajamas that's already laying near the neatly folded towel on a cabinet.

I step into the shower and press random buttons on it. The warm water washes over my body, cleans every bit of make-ups that my prep team had put on me. The soap is cinnamon scented, and I'm silently thankful that it's not blood or rose scented or I would've vomited even more.

After my whole body is all dried up, I put on the pajamas. And then I stare at the reflection of myself in the mirror. What I see isn't Katniss Everdeen, a sixteen years old teenage girl from The Seam of District 12, who is an older sister of Primrose Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne's hunting partner. But all I see is a stranger who's staring back at me. She's as tall as Katniss, but noticeably skinnier. She doesn't have any scar from hunting in the woods, her skin is soft, smooth and perfect. Her hair isn't neatly braided or tied up in a bun, but it's messy, and falls loose past her shoulders. Her eyes are grey, just like Katniss', but it's more dull and lifeless. I can even see the dark shadows under them.

She's not Katniss Everdeen. Not anymore.

I turn on the water on the sink and wash my face, and then I look back at the mirror. Nope. She doesn't come back. The old Katniss Everdeen is gone and will never be back. She's gone with… Peeta.

Peeta. The only person that cared so much about me, other than my family and the Hawthornes. I've lost him forever, and now with Snow's threat, who else am I going to lose?

I've done what Snow wanted, to kill Peeta, to be the only victor. I've become the monster he wanted me to be. And why weren't those enough? Why aren't I safe? Why is my family still not safe? That means the sacrifice that I've done was for nothing. I let Peeta go for nothing. I killed him for nothing, because in the end, the ones that I love is still not safe.

Or maybe it was all my fault in the first place. Maybe it would've been better if I had died instead of Peeta. Maybe he could take care of my family. Maybe my mother wouldn't be that broken if I died. Maybe Prim could be strong. Maybe Gale could find away to cope, to forget about me. Maybe if I died, they would all be okay.

Maybe. Just maybe.

I don't know how long I've been in the bathroom. Probably an hour or more, I don't really care. But when I go back to my bedroom, Peeta is no longer there. And I can't help but recall what he said in the arena, about him having nothing to lose. Was that true?

Because I wasn't lying when I told him that I did have some things to lose if he died. I would've missed him, and I do. And now that I'm a victor, plus with Snow's threats, I have more things to lose. It would've been better if he hadn't died.

Peeta died, and so did 22 other tributes out there in the arena. It's not something uncommon; this happens every year ever since the end of the Dark Days. 23 kids die, 1 alive. But why did I have to be the one that came out alive? It's not that I'm not glad I'm alive and I still have the chance to see those that I love. I am glad. But the fact that what I either did or didn't do would never be enough for Snow sets me on edge. I won, my family and I are supposed to be safe, but we're not. I'm still losing so much, and it's not fair.

But of course no one can be safe in Panem. Not a thing is fair here. And victors aren't an exception.

If Peeta had won instead, would things change? I don't know. But to this moment I'm still wondering if he really didn't care if he died because he had nothing to lose. He didn't love me that much, didn't he, that he was willing to sacrifice his own life for me?

But he did die for me. And it hurts me in a way that I can never understand.

"It wasn't like that, you know?" Peeta says, silently sneaks up behind me.

I turn around. "What?"

"When I said that I had nothing to lose. I know you're probably wondering about that," he shrugs. "I had a lot of things that I knew I was going to lose, but compared to yours… my life wasn't as worth it," he says. "And in fact, I knew from the start that it would've been you that comes out alive, always you. So I was ready for my fate, that I would've never come out alive."

I fall silent for a moment. I get what he means, and I know that I'm so much stronger than him, that his odds of surviving were not so good. In fact, if I hadn't come to find him, he would've died much sooner without me. But the way he says that… it makes me feel like he didn't wanna live at all.

He sits on my bed. "Well, it's not that I didn't appreciate the life that I had. I did. My family, my friends, the bakery, you…" he sighs, "were all important to me. But let's face it, my life wasn't worth it to the Capitol's eyes. All they want is just a show, and I was a part of it, whether I liked it or not."

I take a step forward and hesitantly take a seat beside him. I decide to change the topic. "Do you always have to read my mind?" I look down at my lap and swing my legs playfully.

He chuckles. "Well… you're so easy to read, Katniss. Everything is written all over your face. Plus, you're a crappy liar."

I smirk, but soften my voice. "But I've always worn a mask to cover my feelings ever since my father died. And most people can't see what I'm hiding," I roll my eyes, "and then there's you."

"Maybe you're hard to read, but not to me," he says pointedly. "Besides, what's the good thing of being a ghost if I don't creep into your head and shock the hell out of you by guessing your mind?"

He says it so nonchalantly, as if death is just some kind of joke and that his doesn't affect me and my life at all. Suddenly, I feel angry at him. I look up and glare icily at him. "Stop it, Peeta. Stop saying things like that."

My cold tone must've taken him aback. He looks at me, "What do you mean?"

I can't find the right words to say so I just shake my head. Besides, if he's a ghost, he's going to find out anyway. I look back down at my lap to hide my eyes that are beginning to water. "I miss you, Peeta," I finally admit.

He moves closer to me. "I'm still here."

"As a ghost," I spit the word as if it was venomous. "I want you here. Physically. So I…" so I can touch you. I look up and lift my finger up and move it toward his cheek. He stays still, but when I tap my finger on his cheek… it just goes through it. A single tear makes its way down my cheek, and then come the others, and now I'm crying. I can't touch him. Why can't I touch him?

"Because I'm a ghost," he whispers sadly, and the words sound cracked at the end. The pain is obvious in his eyes. He continues, "But I swear, Katniss, I swear to God I will protect you. Alive or not, I will always be with you. I promise that you and your family will be alright. Okay?"

I want to feel him. I want to feel safe again, and without him, I just can't. But for now, all I can do is nod and try to believe him.

"Good," he smiles. "Now go back to sleep. I promise I will be here when you wake up."

I lay on my bed and hide under the blanket, and wait for the darkness to come. "Good night, Peeta."

"Good night, Katniss."

A/N: I forgot to tell you this, but I've changed some things from the book. Like, the ceremony is supposed to be separated from the interview; the ceremony only consists of the recap of the games and the crowning, while the interview is being done the next day in Katniss' room. But to shorten the story I had decided to write the interview together with the ceremony, and then after that Katniss has to go to Snow's mansion to have lunch there with other Capitol people. And in the book, it's supposed to be a dinner, not lunch, but I changed it so I could go faster with the story. I hope it didn't disappoint you, I just didn't want to go in toooo much detail :)

And you might've noticed that Katniss here is somewhat kinda out of her character (she talks more openly to Peeta and Caesar, and she's more moody and seems so easy to cry), but I promise you that she's not. She's just being her confused self, and with Peeta being dead and all, it kinda affects her emotion, you know?

Again, THANK YOU EVERYONE, the last chapter got more than 20 reviews and I was SOOOOOOO happy. Just… thank you, thank you, thank you!