"Absolutely not." Haymitch hissed out of his teeth.
"I don't think we have a choice, there buddy." Maislee patted him on the shoulder, but quickly retracted her hand when he cast her a deadly glare.
The small boy, whose name was Carter, was already decked out in his District 12 costume. He was practically drowning in the fabric, which was a glorified coal-mining uniform. It had none of the practically padded knees and elbows or belt filled with tools. It was basically a black jacket paired with a helmet and a light attached. A flimsy light at that. He had stage makeup on, depicted coal residue all over his cheeks and forehead. Haymitch had refused to let his cosmetics team do that to him. All he let them do was gel back his hair slightly. Even that was ridiculous.
Rydell was zipping up her jacket, looking as thrilled as Haymitch felt. Maislee's makeup team had given her a bold smokey eye, and her blonde hair fell down in waves underneath the helmet.
They were in an underground compartment, which he knew was above the stretch that led to the capitol building. The four of them would be forced to stroll down the corridor, waving and smiling in their unrealistic costumes, like prized pigs.
"When would a miner ever have that hairstyle?" Haymitch protested.
Maislee shrugged, straightening out Rydell's hair for her. The latter looked annoyed, but accepted the help. Her cosmetics team had tried to give her similar waves to Maislee, but she was clearly uncomfortable with all of her hair down. Maislee helped her tie it back in a low pony-tail beneath her helmet.
"Oh, I don't know," Maislee paused, finishing Rydell's hair. "Maybe when their entire life depends on the rich assholes that are waiting to watch us?"
She glared at Haymitch, who nodded his concession. Rydell chuckled, and Carson looked down at his shoes, as if speaking ill of the capitol residents was a sin.
"Fine." Haymitch groaned, zipping up the insulting jacket and throwing on his helmet.
None of the three hardly looked his way as he swept the hair out of his face. Haymitch was not a shallow person - just observant. And he had observed many girls fawning over him and his looks and his hair. But Maislee and Rydell seemed uninterested. Maybe it was just their dire circumstances.
Haymitch swallowed his never-ending retorts and got on their ridiculous float. The girls waved and smiled, while Carter nervously stuck his hands in his pockets and sheepishly looked at the ground. Haymitch stood at the back of the float, arms crossed, leaning on the railing. He could hear the crowd yell for him, trying to get a reaction or a smile. But Haymitch had found something more interesting.
At the top of a large balcony overseeing the parade, stood President Cornelius Snow. Haymitch didn't know much about him, but any president who continues the Hunger Games after being elected is the shittiest shit of all the shit in the world. So Haymitch just stared at him.
Even though he was far away, Haymitch could have sworn Snow flinched.
And that was the only reason he eventually smiled.
---
Haymitch's leg was bouncing out of control. He had actually enjoyed the period of time where all of the tributes were waiting to go into their Ranking sessions. He spent over five hours staring at the others, noticing their quirks, consistencies. But now that it was just him, the anxiety got to him.
He had no clue what he was going to do for the gamemakers. He found the ranking so dumb. What does it matter what a bunch of rich adults think of his skills? His fate rested on whether or not a scared kid would kill him if given the chance.
Maislee was the second to last to go, and looked flustered as she left.
"Good luck." She said softly, but without much enthusiasm. He nodded his thanks and watched her go.
He was called over the PA, and gingerly walked into the training area. The gamemakers looked bored, sitting up high in their special booth. Some were even sleeping.
Haymitch looked around and noticed that they didn't clean up after every tribute. There were a few broken arrows, some misplaced weapons, and herbs lying around on the work table.
He looked up at the booth and cleared his throat.
"Ronnie from District 1 threw handaxes." He walked over to the ax targets. Everything was cleaned up in the throwing alley, but that didn't trick Haymitch. "When he threw with his right hand, he hit his target directly. When he threw with his left, however, he missed wide. He also puts his axes away, handles up, when everyone else puts them blades up."
"Shara from District 1 showed off her acrobatic skills." He glanced at the obstacle course that had been set up all week. Shara had done the course more than sixty times and could pass it with ease. But there was a knocked over hurdle halfway through the course. "She tripped and knocked over an obstacle. That only happened because you readjusted the course this morning."
Now he had their attention. None of the game makers were asleep anymore. They were leaning over the railing, eyes wide.
Haymitch kept going, listing off ten more tributes and what he guessed they performed. It really wasn't that hard. Just a combination of what he'd observed from their behavior, and what the training room looked like. He had been talking for at least twenty minutes, and knew he had to wrap it up.
"Maislee from District 12." He started, his mouth going slightly dry. He looked around for any sign of.. anything. But she had left no obvious mark on the training area. She was a jack of all trades it seemed, not terrific in one specific thing, but decent at everything. "She didn't do anything." He realized aloud. A few gamemakers gasped and applauded as they had been for the last few declarations Haymitch had made. One even shouted 'he's right, she didn't!' Haymitch waited for the excitement to die down. He looked up at them and tilted his head. "Okay, I'm done." That got a few laughs. He was tired of entertaining these people.
---
Haymitch never had stage fright before, but his stomach churned as he walked onto Caesar Flickerman's stage. He squinted into the lights at the large crowd in front of him, and the many more watching from the floating cameras around him.
"Look at this handsome fella!" Caesar roared with glee into his microphone, shining a huge, plastically altered smile at the crowd. Haymitch just nodded, sitting into the chair opposite of Caesar. He was dressed in a navy blue suit, with matching glittery silver shoes and pocket square. He felt so insanely stupid. Caesar settled down next to him and trained his large smile on him.
"Now, Haymitch, tell me about District 12. Your family, friends, girls?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
"I work, go to school, and then drink myself to sleep." Haymitch said with the cadence of a joke. The crowd chuckled in response. "My family passed when I was younger, so it's just me." The lie seamlessly left his mouth, pulling an 'awhh' out of the audience. Sure, the entire District 12 would know he was lying. But they all knew he was smart. Hopefully, they'd keep the truth to themselves.
"Oh, so you're a single man?" Caesar wiggled his eyebrows again, this time at the audience. "Did you hear that ladies?" He laughed as a few women in the crowd screamed. Haymitch tried to not roll his eyes. He instead shook his head, forcing himself to look disappointed.
"I'm not sure how much good it will do, Caesar. Going into the arena tomorrow, and all." This was met by more "awwhs". These people were so, so stupid.
Caesar somehow formed his face into a large frown. "You don't think you have a chance? That 10 from your evaluation says a little differently."
Haymitch just shrugged. He wanted off that stage so badly. "I didn't perform any physical talent for the gamemakers. I used my brain."
"Such an intelligent young man!"
"But the games, they're all about brute force. Whoever is willing to rip apart some innocent child with their own hands will win. And that's why the games are so, very stupid."
Caesar's eyes went wide as an awkward silence hung around the audience. Haymitch shrugged again and leaned back in his chair.
"Any other questions, Caesar?" It was his turn to flash a smile.
Caesar had him off that stage within thirty seconds.
Later in the evening, after he took off his ridiculous suit, Haymitch laid on one of the couches in the District 12 penthouse. He flipped through a few pictures he'd managed to hide. One of his favorites was Harrison as a baby, sitting in a high chair. Haymitch and his mom had tried to make him a cake, but promptly burnt it. So they just gave Harrison the frosting, and he absolutely loved it. Smeared it all over his face. Haymitch posed with him, hands covered in frosting.
The other picture was of him and Aimee. On the roof of course, splitting an ice cream cone.
"You're an idiot." A voice hovered over Haymitch. He bolted upright and shoved the pictures in the couch cushion.
Maislee Donner stood above him, still in her beautiful dress from the evening. It was midnight black, but with small rubies stitched around her curves. Her hair was done up in a braid crown, with matching rubies knitted in.
"No sponsors are going to help you now. The entire Capital thinks you are temperamental."
"I am temperamental." He waited for her to say something else. "Did you need something or..."
Maislee clicked her jaw nervously. She lifted her leg over the couch and slid next to Haymitch. Now closer, he could see her makeup was smeared.
"Nervous?"
"Duh." She said, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me you aren't?"
"I dunno." Haymitch admitted. He pulled out a flask from the couch cushion that he had also hidden. "I don't think nervous is the right word for it." He took a small swig and offered some to Maislee. She took it without hesitation, but made a sour face after.
"Ugh, that shit is nasty."
Haymitch shrugged and took another sip.
"What is the right word for it?"
"Huh?"
"How you're feeling?"
"Oh." Haymitch shifted on the couch, unsure of how to handle the situation. She was going to be his competitor tomorrow. The less she knew about him, and the way his mind worked, the better. But from everything he'd observed from Maislee, he had a feeling that she wouldn't turn into a blood hungry hound the second her feet hit the arena. "Regret, I guess."
"Regret?"
"Yeah. This is it, you know?"
"I guess."
"I just wish I had_" Haymitch stopped and cleared his throat.
"It's okay. You don't have to tell me. I'm not dumb. I remember you from school. I know you have a family. You're just protecting them." She shook her head and snagged the flask back from him. "You're smart."
"You've seen me around?"
"Duh." She said again. "We're the same age, and there's one school in district 12."
"Fair."
They sat for a moment in silence, but this time it was more comfortable.
"Can you imagine if we were friends back home?" Maislee asked after a bit.
"Everyone would hate us."
"True."
"What was your favorite subject?"
Haymitch paused, noting the past tense. "Math."
Maislee blew a raspberry into her palm.
"Rude." Haymitch threw the flask at her.
"English." Maislee pointed to herself with her thumb. "We would have been a dream team. I'd do all your English assignments, you'd do all my math assignment_"
"I'd convince you to skip class and we could go to the bar." Haymitch cut her off, matching the dreamy tone.
"Absolutely not."
Haymitch blew a raspberry, getting a genuine smile out of Maislee.
She handed back the flask, her eyes floating around the large penthouse.
"I have a little brother. Harrison." Haymitch said after a pause. He pulled the pictures out of their hiding place and showed Maislee. Her eyes lit up looking at the cake photo. "And that's my girlfriend, Aimee." He pointed out the next photo. "And my mom." He rushed over the mention of Aimee.
Maislee smiled largely at the picture of Haymitch and Aimee. She handed the photos back to Haymitch.
"I know why you don't know me from school." She said softly.
"Yeah?" Haymitch raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah." Maislee hesitated. "Last year I started dating a girl, and no one wanted anything to do with me anymore. So I bled into the shadows. Much easier that way."
Haymitch paused. His brain was convinced Maislee was pulling an angle. Why connect like this if they would never see eachother again? Maybe she was pulling secrets out of him on purpose. Lowering his guard with secrets of her own.
Maislee wiped away a tear.
Haymitch swallowed and set down the flask. It was enough of that for tonight.
"That's why you've been eyeing up Rydell the whole time!" He chuckled. Maislee's eyes went big, but her lips quirked into a smile.
"I have not!" She laughed slightly.
"Have too. I noticed everything, remember."
"Fuck." She laughed harder, doubling over. Haymitch chuckled with her.
There was a reason she was telling him this. She knew this would be her last chance in her entire life to be her genuine self. And she trusted Haymitch enough to spend the time with.
"I'm a pretty good wingman, but I don't know if I have the skills to set you two up in the arena."
Maislee laughed some more, wiping more tears from her eyes. "Thank you." She said after she'd calmed down.
"Yeah, of course." They stared at each other for a few more moments before Maislee stood up off the couch.
"I really, really hope I don't ever see you again." She said as she walked away. Haymitch swallowed, feeling even more regretful than he had a few minutes ago.
"Ditto."