Thank you so much for reading and for all the incredible reviews I've had so far, they make me excited about writing this!

I do not own the Hunger Games nor its characters.

Chapter Fifteen

I sit at the table and eat. I sit at the table and wait. The last six months have taken on a rather mundane routine; I wake up, I wash, I eat, I dress, I sit and repeat until it's time for bed, again.

Titam makes regular appearances and has poured away any alcohol I manage to get my hands on, although he's told everyone in 12 not to sell it to me and, unfortunately, they've all listened. I know he means well but he has his ways of coping and I have mine, I wish he would just let me get on with it.

I put the last spoonful of cereal in to my mouth just as the doorbell rings and I reluctantly rise from the table to go and answer it. I already know who stands on the other side and I'm not sure my current mental state can handle them.

"Hello, Haymitch," Elerrah purrs as I open the door. I don't know why she has to make everything she says sound so seductive, especially when she looks so ridiculous and is at least fifteen years older than me.

"Come on, we've got lots to do!" Marsella shouts and pushes past me as if I'm not there.

I gesture for everyone else to enter and they all seem to be beaming as they walk through in to the living room. Riosa even gives me a kiss on the cheek! I follow them but Marcius promptly pushes me out of the door and instructs me to have a bath, handing me some sort of shampoo to rub into my hair.

I fill the tub half way up and give myself a quick scrub, massaging the lotion in to my hair, although I'm probably not doing it properly. Not that I care, all of this prep is just to show me off to Panem before I begin my victory tour but I don't feel like I have anything to celebrate. My family are gone and no one wants to talk to me, why should I pretend to be happy?

I pull on a pair of underpants and a dressing gown before returning to the living room where five outfits have been laid out on the sofas for my perusal.

"Do I get to choose?" I ask Elerrah.

"Of course! I know better now than to force you in to something you don't want."

I smirk because she doesn't know me like she thinks she does. If she did she would know how awful I feel and that I could not care less which outfit I'm paraded around in.

"That one, then," I say, pointing at a black trousers and navy winter coat combination.

"Okay, great! I know exactly what to do with your hair!" Screeches Antonia and pushes me down in to one of the chairs.

Riosa tries to attack me with some sort of makeup pallet while Antonia works but some strict words and a stern look manage to scare her off. I know I have to play along to a certain extent but I refuse to look like one of the Capitol's morons.

My hair has been styled in to some sort of large wave, which doesn't look as ridiculous as I'd imagined and if I could manage a genuine smile I probably wouldn't look half bad.

"I'm so excited for the tour!" Squeals Marsella "The parties are going to be amazing!"

"Yes, everyone in the Capitol is talking about you, they can't wait for you to come back," adds Marcius.

"And are they talking about the deaths of my family? Hmmm? Has that gossip died down yet?"

None of them say anything, they just look at me with various stunned expressions. I shouldn't snap at them, they're just clueless children, but I just wish they'd engage their brains now and again.

They scuttle out of the front door, apart from Elerrah who saunters everywhere and I follow about a minute later. The reporters instantly start clicking their cameras and asking me questions as I get in to the car that will take me to the station.

"I'm very excited," I say, "Yes, it will be hard but my family will always be with me," I say and "No, there's no girl in my life at the moment," I say with as little venom as I can.

By the time I get on the train all I want to is climb in to that luxurious bed that I know waits behind one of the carriage doors but Marsella has sat us all down, including Titam, and is now reciting the itinerary for the following two weeks. The tour will start in 11 and then work its way through the districts until we reach the Capitol where there will be a huge banquet at Snow's mansion. Once we return home there will be another party in the square at 12.

I think of the square and the day of Tilly's funeral; no one has seen that dark haired man since, although that's hardly surprising. Ever since that day we've had more peacekeepers than ever before patrolling the district and punishments are a lot sterner. Being the most pathetic district in Panem meant that we were usually left to our own devices but now we're all anyone talks about.

Whippings are a lot more common now, our Head Peacekeeper, Nikolas Frume, seems to gain a sick kind of pleasure from them. Clara and her family now spend most of their time dealing with the injuries and it's all my fault.

Dinner is as extravagant as ever with more dishes that I haven't tasted but are all delicious and I drink about three cups of hot chocolate after the main meal is over.

The prep team retreat to their rooms and Marsella tells me to get to bed soon or I'll be of no use to anyone. I'm no use, anyway.

"I notice that there was no wine at dinner," I say to Titam, who is sat in a large chair with a mug of tea.

"Everyone comments on how clever you are but it's only now that I'm seeing it," he mocks.

"When are you going to just let me be?"

"When I'm dead." I guffaw at his response. "I'm serious, Haymitch. Who else have you got now? Don't you think it's time you stopped treating me like an annoying pet?"

"I'm going to bed."

We reach 11 the next morning and after breakfast we're all escorted to the Justice Building where I'm given my outfit and told how the day will pan out. I am to give my speech to the crowd gathered outside the building and then there will be a dinner and a ball this evening.

I nod and wait for my name to be called by the Mayor of 11 and when it is I steadily walk on to the stage. They all clap but there is no emotion on their faces. The families of 11's dead tributes stand below me and I know that I killed one of their children but I'm not sure who their parents are.

"Hello," I begin, "And thank you for your hospitality, it has long been a dream of mine to visit 11 and you have not disappointed." This speech came directly from Snow's office, apparently I couldn't be trusted to write my own. I talk about how honoured I am to have won and thank them for sacrificing their children in order for me to win. I hope they don't hate me. I hate me. Thankfully, it's soon over and I can leave the stage.

The evening involves a lot of food and dancing as well as being introduced to the victors of 11, of which there are only four and they are all getting on a bit. They're nice enough and seem to know Titam quite well so I just spend most of the nice sitting by myself, snapping at anyone who dares talk to me. I can almost see the anxiety attack overcoming Marsella.

It's pretty much the same routine throughout the victory tour; we arrive, I make my speech, I ignore everyone at the parties and then we get back on the train. However, when we reach 4 I allow myself to feel something resembling excitement. It's so beautiful with its sunny weather and beaches that I can't help but smile, it couldn't be any more different from 12.

As 4 is a Career district there are quite a few victors to meet at the dinner but it's the eldest that seems most interested in me, she keeps smiling at me whilst the others fail to hide their disdain of me. They won by brutality but I won with my wits and it clearly bugs them.

"Haymitch, this is Mags," Titam says as he introduces me to the woman at the ball.

"Hello," I say.

"Lovely to meet you," she says, "How are you finding our little district?"

"It's hardly little! 12 is little!"

She cracks up laughing and says, "True! I remember being shocked at the size of it during my victory tour."

She must have been one of the earliest victors, like Titam. The things she must have seen.

"I'll leave you to it," Titam says and seems to give Mags a small nod before he walks off.

"What was that about?" I ask.

"Why don't we sit down? I'm getting too old for all of this standing and dancing!" She leads me over to one of the seats that outlines the large hall and we sit down next to each other.

"Am I in trouble?" I whisper, already knowing that I am but not sure what news Mags can tell me.

"No," she says in a hushed tone with a smile, "But I just want you to know that there are others that share your views."

"My views?"

"About the Capitol. Do you understand me?" She raises her eyebrows, refusing to say anything else. My views on the Capitol? Does she mean there's some sort of rebellion underway?

"Lots of others?" I say, trying to get the information I need without being blatant. I don't know what her real intentions are.

She nods. "And we need someone clever, Haymitch. Titam and I, we're getting old, would you be able to help us one day?"

"Definitely," I say. I don't even care if she is spying for Snow, he can kill me if he wants but if there's even a slight chance that I can kill him I'm going to take it.

"Great!" She shouts, "Now let's dance!" She grabs my hand and before I can object she's pushed me on to the dance floor and is shaking her hips as if she's twenty one, again. I find myself laughing for the first time in months and the guilt isn't as strong as it once was.

District 3 aren't exactly friendly but they're hospitable enough, the whole tour is designed to remind them what they lost so I can understand. I doubt past victors have felt much love from 12. Districts 1 and 2, however, outwardly loathe me but that's fine with me, at least they're not pretending. I hate phonies.

When we arrive in the Capitol it's as mad and bold as I remember it to be. As soon as I'm off the train I have to give a speech to the thousands of people who have come to welcome me to their strange city and remind them to watch my interview with Caesar tonight.

The interview itself is fairly boring; there's questions about the arena, about life back in 12 and, of course, the deaths of my family.

"How are you coping?" Asks Caesar, feigning concern.

"I'm getting better, thanks to Titam," I say, "He's been there a lot for me." For once, I'm not lying and I do appreciate what Titam is doing, even if he does frustrate me.

"Now that's what I like to see!" Caesar roars, "Fellow victors sticking together!"

The crowd cheers and I try not to punch him the way I did to Snow.

The banquet at Snow's mansion is beyond even my mad expectations of the Capitol, there are about twenty rooms just filled with food for us to eat and dance around. My stomach feels nauseous at the sight of it; all of this food would feed the whole of 12 for a week, at least.

"Excuse me, Mr. Abernathy," a slim woman in her thirties says to me. She's a little shorter than me and her bright blue hair has been cut in to some sort of swirly design. "My name's Charla Strand, I was one of your sponsors in the arena."

"Oh! It's so nice to meet you, thank you!" I say with some sincerity, which makes her blush. I am partly grateful, the gifts that Titam sent Maysilee and I definitely kept us alive.

"I just wanted to meet you and maybe…have a dance?"

"Of course," I say and lead her to the dance floor. I've never thought of myself as having much charm, especially with an older woman, but it seems that I'm getting rather good at this business of lying. I think the idea that a rebellion could be in the air is spurring me on so that Snow's fall is even greater.

Minutes later I see him talking to a Capitol official and when he notices me he gives me one of his sinister smiles before beckoning me over. I say goodbye to Charla and walk over to my lovely president.

"I see you've been getting to know your sponsors," he says.

"Yes."

"You know you have a lot of female admirers in the Capitol, my boy. There are ways you could thank them personally and maybe even redeem yourself in my eyes…."

"You mean sleep with them?!" I don't shout it but there's still a huge amount of shock in my voice. Snow simply cackles and nods.

"Some of these ladies are very beautiful, you know, you could do a lot worse."

I don't reply. Instead I turn around and head straight for the bar, ordering a large glass of wine. I've refrained from drinking for Titam's sake but I no longer see why I should stop myself. I tried, I failed, end of.

It isn't until an hour later when Titam and Marsella are dragging me back to the train with sick down my front that I maybe think that I've gone too far.