Hunger Games: The Second Quarter Quell - The Story of Haymitch Abernathy

Chapter 6: The Interviews

'It seems like you're enjoying yourself,' Caesar answered with another chuckle. 'Anyway, let's get down to the important business. I can't speak for everyone here, but I know at least I am desperate to find out – how are you keeping your cool?' he questioned, offering the microphone in Haymitch's direction once again.

'Well, it's a little hotter than this in District Twelve,' Haymitch answered sarcastically, pursing his lips as Caesar paused to give both himself and the audience a chance to laugh. After a good ten seconds, he leant back toward Haymitch, clearing his throat.

'So, Haymitch, what do you think of the Games having one hundred percent more competitors than usual?' Caesar inquired, and Haymitch's mind flashed to Quince Everly and his senseless remarks.

'I don't see it makes much of a difference. They'll still be one hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds will be roughly the same,' Haymitch answered quickly, allowing himself to shoot the camera a half smile as the audience erupted into laughter, then applause.

'Haymitch Abernathy, from District Twelve, everyone!' Caesar announced finally, standing and reaching for Haymitch's wrist, before lifting his arm up in the air to invite the final applause. 

Much to Haymitch's dismay, Quince Everly took to the stage directly after, blabbering on to Caesar about his average-at-best accomplishments. Thankfully, he invited little laughter, and Haymitch was grateful that he could at least beat Quince in one thing, other than training. 

Second-to-last, Maysilee Donner was called. Haymitch was suspicious the audience had grown tired, after two hour's worth of interviews, although Maysilee answered strongly and confidently, anyway. 

Towards the end of her interview, Caesar leant forward towards Maysilee, likely about to conclude with a personal topic. 

'So, Maysilee, is there anyone at home you're missing dearly as we speak?' Caesar enquired, watching as Maysilee nodded sadly.

'My twin sister, Marigold,' she murmured quietly, gaining several 'aw's from the audience, 'I'm so afraid that I won't make it out of the Games and will never get to see her again.'

Caesar paused in consideration for a moment, pursing his forest-green lips in sympathy.

'And... is there anything you'd like to say to your sister, just in case? A... final message, so to speak?' Caesar questioned.

Maysilee nodded meekly, clearing her throat. 'I hope that, in case I don't make it, I would still leave a lasting impression on everybody. I would want the future generations to remember me, to know that once there was a girl from 12.'

A wave of applause followed Maysilee's words, and she exited the stage soon after, taking a bow on her way out. 

She had officially won the Capitol's hearts – it was clear. 

Night came, and as a wave of silent blackness swept over the city, Haymitch, much alike the other three District 12 tributes, lay awake in his bed, his mind running over every possibility. 

Say he won, and could finally go home. He'd be the only living District 12 victor. But how could he spend the rest of his life mentoring tributes who were bound to die? 

Maybe it'd be better to be killed first day, to just get it over and done with. Surely in the Bloodbath. Hopefully it'd be nice and quick and as painless as weapons of torture could be. 

Worst case scenario, he never managed to retrieve a weapon, and hid in the woods until he was killed or outlived everyone. It seemed the most sensible choice, though Haymitch considered the numerous other tributes probably considering the same option, right now. Even if he made it into the trees, he wouldn't be there alone. And how humiliating, to run from the Cornucopia and be killed anyway? If he was going to die, it was going to be noble.