Effie shut the door to her room and made sure it was locked after a long day in the viewing lounge. She snagged a few sponsors for Haymitch and saw to it that the last remaining tribute from her District got some supplies. She showered and tucked into bed, leaving this time to watch the little girl in the arena. Tributes were dropping like flies in this cave. Mutts around every corner. Seneca had mentioned at lunch today that tonight in the arena would be one of the worst. His words held true as tributes were tortured by the voices of their loved ones and massive spiders. Effie managed to doze off after the girl tended to her wounds but remained safe for the time being.

No sign of Haymitch was heard until early that morning. A slurry of curse words and glass shattering on the floor startled Effie from her slumber. She frowned and found the courage to go out there and deescalate the situation. As Seneca had said earlier, she did far more than she had to for the label of her job. As pictured in her head, it was a mess in the living area. Haymitch was on the floor, shards of glass splattered around him. Two avoxes stood in silent fear nearby.

"It's okay." Effie shut her door and cinched the tie on her robe as she walked toward them. "Go on and rest. I'll take care of it."

The female Avox wore a stunned expression and pointed animatedly at the glass on the floor. Effie nodded, "I'll be careful, Naomi. Thank you." Effie had a soft spot for the two avoxes who frequented her Districts floor. Naomi and Evan, were kind and always helpful with Haymitch. The two of them departed back to their quarters, leaving Effie to deal with Haymitch.

She tiptoed around the glass carnage and buried the anger in her and swallowed her pride. The urge to comment on how he deserved this was hard to hold back. "C'mon, get up." Effie pulled on his arms but he just sat there. Staring absently at her. "Haymitch…"

He was as drunk as ever and in his mind he thought he had chased his feeling away with the booze. But she was still there, under his skin, making him feel things he hadn't felt in years. He mumbled her name which came out sound more like "Fee" than Effie.

"Yes, it's Effie. Now get up." She tugged harder but his legs just seemed to not work. She groaned, "You have to help me out. Stand up." She said firmly and convinced him to try and stand. She bore most of his weight as he clambered to his feet. Only then did the amount of alcohol he drank take a dizzying effect on him. He staggered forward, Effie tried to stand straight and bear his weight to steady him. He was just too heavy. She stumbled backward and back into the opposite wall. Haymitch leaned up against her. Bracing his hands on the wall, and panting. Effie felt the stinging sear of pain blossom in the arch of her foot. She gripped his shirt and pushed him toward his room. "Move your feet, slowly." She directed and limped toward his room.

It was no easy feat to get him onto his bed. Effie was clammy and tended to her foot in his bathroom. Wrapping it up in gauze and planting herself on a chair in his room. Face down in his pillows he was already snoring. She had to stay and make sure he didn't vomit. She took the liberty of dumping out every bottle of booze in his room. Throwing the various bottles out in his trash. She was fed up with him and the excessive drinking. He had gone too far. Tomorrow she would let him know how she felt about it.

Haymitch finally stirred late that morning. He staggered from his bed and found Effie curled up on a chair. She looked incredibly small curled up like that. Haymitch rubbed his eyes and couldn't figure out why she was even here. His eyes lingered on the white gauze around her foot. Blood tinged the bottom of it. What the hell had happened? His head pounded and his eyes hurt. Last he remember was them not speaking. It flashed back to him, Effie was dating Crane. Seneca Crane. It made his blood boil. Why would she even entertain the thought of that man? Seneca enjoyed designing the games for maximum horror. He enjoyed the Hunger Games. Effie, herself, said she hated reaping the kids. Why would she date a man who enjoyed killing them?

He needed a drink in the worst way. If he kept drinking the hangovers went away. He pulled open his drawer and found his hidden bottles gone. He huffed and tore through his closet. No bottles to be found.

"You won't find any liquor in here. Or on the floor for the matter." Effie had woken up and was standing up. Her weight favored to the left to relieve her injured foot.

Haymitch gave her an incredulous look. "Why?" He turned to face her. "What happened?" He had enough hidden in his room to last at least a month.

"I dumped it out." Effie said matter of factly. She crossed her arms and stared at him. "Before you even think of lashing out, I did it for a good reason."

"Well let's hear it, sweetheart." He said with a strained voice. This girl dumped out hundreds of dollars of booze, he was seething.

"You drink your feelings away. It's not healthy. You'd rather face a bottle than face a problem. You get so drunk you have no idea what chaos you inflict on everyone around you." Effie stood her ground. "the tributes for the better part of the games have known you to be a poor mentor and a drunk. You terrorized Naomi and Evan last night. They've done nothing but help you as many times as I have."

"Who?" Haymitch asked loudly.

"Naomi and Evan. The Avoxes who live on the District 12 floor with us!" Effie said with a gasp. "I had to drag you off the floor through a maze of broken glass at 3 am. It hasn't been the first time I've done it. You'd rather feel the burn of a good drink than for one second cope with something that doesn't go in your favor. Haymitch, I'm tired of cleaning up after you. I'm tired of doing your job."

So that explained her foot, Haymitch thought to himself and stared her down. "No one is asking you to clean up after me." It was the only thing he could really think of to say.

Effie shook her head and sighed, "All of this is because I didn't tell you I had a lunch date with Seneca Crane. He is not my boyfriend, nor do I even really know what I think of him. You had no right to overreact. I can't do this anymore, Haymitch. I can't be a Mentor and be an Escort. I can't worry about your feelings day in and day out. Damage control is not part of my job as many people have pointed out." Her eyes were sadder now, Haymitch noticed that.

He felt pretty bad about the situation but his hangover prevent him from feeling anything past the raging headache and the all over ache. "Then don't. Effie. Don't worry about it."

Her face said it all, she knew that. And so did Haymitch. She cared. She didn't know why she cared, but she did. Something about the grumpy old man made her care. Effie chewed her lip and stood up straighter. She moved toward his door and opened it, "I'm not asking you to stop drinking… I'm just saying… It would be nice if you didn't drink so much. Moderation…" She glanced back at him and watched his face register what she said. His face was lacking of emotion. Unable to gauge his feelings she shut the door.

It was the longest week of her life. The current game was carrying on at a slower pace now. Effie had meetings to keep her busy and Haymitch did what he did best. He sat in the lounge and watched the game. He drank still, not that she kept a tab anymore. She tried her best not to care, but she was kidding herself. She tried to count the drinks he had, to see if he had heard a word she said. As it appeared, he hadn't tried to change his ways.

She met with Seneca, two more times that week. Casual, short lived meetings over lunch in small cafes. But every attempt to distract herself left her wondering what Haymitch was doing. It was hard to break herself of the habit of keeping a tab on him.