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Just a reminder: Hunger Games: Finnick & Katniss Pairing Rated: M (Has touchy subjects like rape, sex, swearing, smut, lemon, and gore)

I hate it when haymitch cries, it looks more sad than when Peeta use to cry. God I miss Peeta... Just one goodbye would of been enough. No, not goodbye. See you soon, he does not deserve a goodbye. He doesn't deserve any of this. We are not peices to your games. If he is the king, who is his queen? What moves can I, a pawn, make against a king? I am just a useless piece to his games.

Haymitch coughs and it causes me to snap my attention back to his eyes, "Sorry that was a pretty daark story," he says while staring at his empty flask.

"It's fine, we all have been through some dark times since our Reapings."

"Yea.."

We hear a highpitched groan, and see Finnick awkening; starting to twist the rope between his fingers again, he looks at us and chuckles,

"Sorry... I didn't sleep in days. It was bound to happen." We send him a reassuring smile as he laughs to himself about falling asleep. A few moments later, his laughter subsided and his eyes were fixed on the empty, crystal glass upon the table. He looks at me and I avoid contact with his honest eyes,

"What? If she couldn't have the glass, I was not gonna let it go to waste," Haymitch hums towards Finnick. Finnick's eyes opened wide and then became calm and gentle as he smiled,

"Of course, how absurdly silly for me to assume... She would lie." He cracks a secure smile toward me. I am a fake. A Capitol fake. Just like Peeta, Finnick will always be a better person than me. I hear the screech of the train tracks and look out the wide window, seeing a musty city of dusk and coal. It reminded me of 13. The train stops in front of a mountain, people like ants are crawling around it as a voice is echoing though the walls to tell us to begin exiting.

"Come on, love," Finnick takes my hand while Haymitch follows behind automatically. I turn back at him as we are walking but he puts on his best game face, as do i. We are all a bunch of fakes.

We step out of the train and are met with a peacekeeper to show us where to walk. We are escorted to small shack, made of broken wood and no door. It reminds me of my old home in District 12, expect this is far worse. One bed, one chair, a rusty old clock, a fridge, and a front, old porch. It's hard to believe we were placed here of all places to stay because this was in fact District 2, the home of the Capitol lap dogs themselves. Those dogs are living in beautifully crafted homes, while we are stuffed into a small shed for the time being.

"You've got to me kidding me," Finnick hisses through his teeth at the peacekeeper, "I am Finncik Odair, I will not be put in some old box like a filthy fucking mutt!" The peacekeeper nods and walks away, "Ridiculous Capitol scum." He walks in the door frame of the shack and runs his finger along the wall examining his finger and then proceeding to wipe them on his clothing in disgust, "Dust.."

Haymitch steps forward and laughs, pulling out a new bottle of wine out of the fridge and sitting in the old, dust covered chair, "Face it prince charming, not everyone can be the Capitol's favorite toy all the time."

"And what's the suppose to mean, you drunk?"

Haymitch laughs again, "You see... This is the first circumstance you have been put in the same trashy place as me... And for once, I have a gift from the Capitol while you have nothing." He pops the cork and chugs the liquid in victory. Does that mean I have nothing too?

"Well, it's not like we won't be allowed to stay at people houses. We're basically royalty."

"Oh you want to? Go right ahead Prince charming, your first appointment is this afternoon if you forgot." Finnick's cheeks flush red and he takes his rope in his hands and sits on the bed.

"Well on the plus side..." I sigh, looking around the empty, broken shack.

"We got wine!" I laugh but Finnick just glares over and ties his rope more viciously.

"Don't mind him sweetheart, he has to much respect for himself to give into things like this," he says while twirling the bottle of wine.

"What is that suppose to mean?" I say. Finnick hides his face from mine and turns facing the wall, tying his rope angrily

"He's-"

"Shut up! You act like being straightedge is weak! You know what's weak? Drowning your pain in things like alcohol!" he cries as he gets up to storm out of our wooden box. I'm sure everyone heard him scream, but I do not stop him. I watch him stomp away into the street.

"I didnt' know... Haymitch how could you?"

"Sometimes his Capitol-ness shows and it bothers me. Nothing against him, I just hate the way he acts like he's better because he chooses not to partake in these activities." He picks up the bottle and smiles warmly toward me, "I choose this bottle, he chose the rope." I half wonder if it was a metaphor for something deeper but understand completely what he means.

"You're not weak Haymitch, everyone does it."

"Including you.." I look around like Finnick could of heard but remembered he bolted away.

"Yes, unfortunately." He looks to me and holds up his bottle, "He won't be back till tomorrow."

I sit on the fur blanket placed on the wooden bed frame and sigh... I am a fake as I snatch it from his grasp. I take one long, slow sip and feel the burning sensation down my throat before handing it back off to Haymitch.

"I'm the worst Haymitch."

"You're human."

"I'm weak."

"You're the Girl on Fire."