Don't Play With Fire

The guilt in Haymitch's veins had been accompanying him since nightfall. The Hunger Games were slowly nearing their end, and it wouldn't be long before the victors scattered across the nation for another year. There wasn't much time left to enjoy the company of the other victors; to be among like-minded people for a while. That was why Haymitch had sent Effie back to the penthouse alone. So he and the victors could wander through the streets of the Capitol. He was relieved to wind down the evening with Chaff and a few others. Most victors were nice people, even if they were murderers.

Still, the guilt gnawed at Haymitch as he lingered in front of one of the more rundown bars in downtown with a bottle in hand. One of the few establishments that most well-off Capitols would steer clear of. Because it seemed shabby and rusty, because it had no flair, because luxury was absent. That was exactly why the victors had chosen this place. To escape the greedy gazes of the upper class; to be able to sit comfortably in a corner without being besieged by fans.

Haymitch thought of Effie and hoped she would somehow find sleep until he joined her later. He had promised he would come. Even though she had only heard the word bar-hopping and had narrowed her eyes because she knew he would return drunk. She had played down her concern of being alone, but Haymitch still knew it was there.

"The last round was on Gloss," came a voice from the door at that moment. Chaff stepped out of the bar, unsteady on his feet, and grinned at his friend. Haymitch shook off his thoughts. "And now look who had to cover the bill because the guy made an early exit."

"Did something happen in the arena?" Haymitch asked. He and Chaff were usually the last to throw in the towel at the annual gatherings with the victors. He couldn't remember young Gloss wanting to buy the last round. If he was honest, he couldn't even remember when the Golden Boy had left. He only remembered the brief goodbye, the quick handshake they had exchanged. It might as well have been hours ago.

Chaff shook his head. "I think it's all going to his head. His own victory was only last year." He shook his head in confusion and took a sip from his bottle. Haymitch started to move and Chaff followed him with unsteady steps. "I don't think I'll ever understand those people from One and Two. A different breed, without a doubt."

"As if you wouldn't switch places with Gloss if you could," Haymitch muttered, a hint of malice in his tone.

They walked through deserted alleys until they reached one of the main streets. Here, life was still in full swing. Both sides of the avenue were lined with shop windows that stretched up the street towards the Training Center. And even though it was two in the morning, people wandered about, entering boutiques and leaving with colorful shopping bags.

"Only a complete idiot wouldn't," Chaff finally replied and marched to the right, towards the Training Center. Haymitch followed him, staggering, the world a blur of light reflections and dizziness, and pressed his mouth shut.

The golden shop windows were adorned with a variety of products, meticulously arranged as if anything else would scare the customers away. Here, in the heart of downtown, luxury brand after luxury brand lined the street, and Haymitch could see where some of the sponsors had gotten their elaborate suits and dresses. Silver, gold, and diamonds as far as the eye could see. Just one stone could probably feed all of District 12 for a while.

Beside him, Chaff began to chuckle as they passed a particularly strange clothing store. "No one in this world can convince me that these idiots would wear that stuff if it were hanging in a regular store."

"They're just kidding themselves into thinking it looks good," Haymitch replied with a grin. "Deep down, they know how terrible they look. Born in shit, raised in shit, surrounded by shit. Only shit can come out of that."

"I'm pretty sure they say the same thing about us," Chaff remarked, examining one of the slime-green dresses in the window, the cut so odd that it was almost impossible to tell the top from the bottom.

"You bet." Haymitch took a long swig from his bottle and was grateful for the cool burn in his throat; for the immediate feeling of emptiness.

For a while, they walked silently beside each other. They had almost left the shopping area behind, and the Training Center loomed like a colossus against the starless night sky when Haymitch's feet suddenly came to a halt, an abrupt, impulsive movement that his consciousness hadn't anticipated.

And then he found himself standing in front of a jeweler, staring at the golden jewelry behind the thick windows, suddenly thinking of her. He looked into the clear, sparkling blue of the diamonds framed in gold and, all at once, saw Effie's eyes before him. It struck him like a lightning bolt.

Haymitch cursed the alcohol, regretting the last sip after all. A punishment from the universe for enjoying drink after drink without remorse until now, and for the fact that one thing in his life could never just be good. No, there was always more behind the facade.

It took Chaff several steps to realize that his friend was no longer walking beside him. He turned around and stared at Haymitch for a moment, as if he weren't hundred percent sure that the man in front of the shop window was actually Haymitch. Chaff must have sensed the change in the atmosphere around them, because he suddenly lunged over to him and grabbed his arm. "Don't even think about it."

Haymitch found it difficult to take his attention away from the blue stone. Blue as cornflowers.

"This is the dumbest idea since you thought it would be a good idea to mess with a Peacekeeper in the lounge. Did you even notice that they've been watching you the whole time while you were wandering around in the lounge?"

Haymitch's brows furrowed, he had to concentrate so hard to understand Chaff's torrent of words. His friend spoke too quickly, too hastily, and the syllables were overlapping. "Nobody's watching us," Haymitch said, rolling his eyes. "And even if they were ..." He shrugged. "There's been so much activity with Twelve this year. They always think I'm up to something. Once Elowen is dead, that'll stop."

Chaff threw him a look that said, It's not that simple. "I can't do more than warn you. Mags and I have done that plenty already. Take care of yourself, Haymitch. Be careful."

"We are careful," said Haymitch, and it was as good as a confession.

Chaff sighed, his usual distrust of Effie absent. "Let's go."

And that was it. Haymitch's eyes drifted to the blue stone one last time, then he nodded and followed Chaff to the Training Center. Their footsteps echoed so loudly through the foyer that Haymitch felt like they were waking half the building. Even though they all slept so far above, with nearly sixty meters separating them from District 1's floor.

The elevator drained all coordination from Haymitch's muscles. He held onto the railing and had to pull himself together not to vomit as it came to a stop in the blink of an eye. The lift emitted a ringing sound, and the door to the 11th floor opened. Chaff stumbled out but paused in the doorway to turn back to Haymitch one last time

"You're so fucked." There was no amusement in Chaff's voice.

"I know," Haymitch replied, long after the doors had closed.

oOo

Haymitch didn't know how. With all the alcohol in his blood, it shouldn't have been possible. He couldn't remember how he had gotten back here. All he knew was that he was standing in front of the jeweler again, looking at the crystal blue of the diamonds again.

Haymitch had no sense of time. But there was still no sign of the sun. That didn't seem to bother the Capitols who walked past him, many of them drunk and with friends at their side. If you had trouble sleeping in the Capitol and your wallet was big enough, you definitely wouldn't get bored here.

Haymitch gazed through the window, past the jewelry. A lone Avox stood behind the cash register and a Peacekeeper in the shadows behind it. If you were shopping here at night, you probably didn't come for the advice anyway.

Haymitch entered the shop. If they recognized him or caught a whiff of alcohol, they were good at not showing it. Without a word, he pointed to the gold chain in the display window. Fine and thin, the pendant with the blue crystal was the only thing that came close to being extravagant. But even here, the call for attention was limited. It reminded him more of one of those ancient family heirlooms that were passed down in the few families in District 12. Too plain for the Capitol.

The Avox didn't have to go to the window to know what Haymitch meant. He opened a drawer and pulled out an identical copy of the necklace. Then a matching pair of gold earrings with tear-shaped stones before raising a questioning eyebrow, already at the limits of his communication. It had to be a set. Haymitch stared at the earrings, at the inlaid stones, for a second, then nodded.

His shopping trip took less than five minutes. And yet Haymitch's heart was racing. Racing as if he had done something world-changing. And part of him knew that was the case. Haymitch had crossed the line.

oOo

Haymitch never found a chance to give Effie the jewelry. There were times, when they were still in the penthouse, when he could have led her to her room and pressed the jewelry box into her hands. He thought about it while they ate breakfast, but he couldn't overcome his inner demons. Part of him was afraid of Effie's reaction. Of what she would say. Of the expression on her face when she realized what he had done.

Haymitch was a damn coward. So he put it off for later. And when they finally left for the sponsors' lounge, he put it off for the next evening, which now seemed so far away. What difference did it make if she got the stupid necklace this morning or tonight?

Now that Haymitch was sober, that scolding voice had popped up in his head again, sounding a little too much like Chaff after the previous night. You're an idiot. You're just colleagues. It's just physical, nothing more. Experimenting. Effie just wanted to try things out. And Haymitch had wanted to get her out of his system. It had worked just fine ... Not.

Haymitch couldn't ignore the many little hints that Effie was dropping – probably unintentionally. Sentences like I have no feelings for Seneca didn't exactly help to make her own intentions clear. Or the fact that she had stepped in front of the loaded barrel of a gun two days ago without hesitation to protect him. Was that something you did for your affair? Not where Haymitch came from. By now, Haymitch was sure that Effie wasn't playing with him, that she had no secret intentions. It would have been so much easier if that were the case.

Instead, his fingers were tingling because he was so close to Effie's arm without being able to touch her. Was this still experimenting or had he already crossed the line? Effie, in her pink and red dress, overshadowed all the other women in the room. She glanced at him quickly over her shoulder. She sensed the absence of his thoughts. Was that still experimenting, or did one simply come to know their colleague so well after working side by side day and night?

"What is on your mind?" Effie's whisper barely reached Haymitch's ears. The lounge was too loud.

You could tell that the Games were coming to an end. Not just because of the sheer number of people, but because there were more officials present. The men with white roses on their lapels had multiplied day by day. Politicians of the highest authority. At least that was what he assumed they were. Most of them stood together, keeping to themselves, but a few moved through the crowd like ghosts, as if they were searching for something. Their feet were so dexterous, their bodies so inconspicuous, that more than once Haymitch had almost bumped into one of them in the crowd. And while Effie then begged for forgiveness with all the politeness she possessed, he only grumbled a half-hearted apology because he couldn't stand these people.

He hadn't met any of them today. Thankfully. Haymitch blinked, trying to block out the neon lights overhead that turned the lounge into half a nightclub. He could live a whole life and still never get used to it. This was no place for high-ranking politicians. For all his lost minds, Haymitch couldn't imagine Snow in this room surrounded by all those apes. Even though they were all subservient to him. How strange.

Effie closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm in one seamless movement. Haymitch's skin was hypersensitive to the touch and it was hard for him to keep his expression impassive. He tilted his head slightly in her direction, but couldn't keep the half-smile from his lips. The softness in her light blue eyes would make him sigh if they were alone. Instead, he quickened his pace until they broke out of the narrowest part of the crowd and strolled toward the bar.

Only now did Haymitch remember that Effie had asked him a question. Even though she didn't look like she was necessarily waiting for an answer. After the last two days following Ramon's death had weighed heavily on her, she seemed to be slowly getting back on her feet. The pain was still there, no doubt, but it no longer gnawed as intensely at her heart.

That was how it was with the first death. Devastating like a beloved vase that shattered, but for the moment not overwhelmingly tragic. Awakening, like an alarm bell, prompting one to take better care of the next vase. Only that the upcoming vases would shatter again and again. And this – this relentless destruction – was what would ultimately destroy a person over time. It gnawed at one, like the waves relentlessly eroding the cliffs at the edge of the ocean, shaping them piece by piece into something new. Only that each subsequent death robbed one of more and more of their form. Instead of shaping something new from the stone, death merely wore away the soul further and further, until nothing was left. Until one became an empty shell of their former self.

That was exactly what was going to happen to Effie. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in ten years. But it was going to happen. Haymitch knew it, because no one was spared. No one with a heart or mind in existence was spared.

"Do you think Elowen will go to the Feast?" Effie asked after taking a sip of her champagne, eyeing him from under her lashes.

Haymitch squeezed his eyes shut, trying to escape his thoughts once and for all. This was the wrong place for daydreams and nightmares. So he turned on his bar stool toward Effie until his knees hit hers and drank from his glass, rehearsing his answer in his head.

This morning, the Gamemakers had announced that, in a few hours, there would be a Feast. A variety of gifts were to be laid out there, from medicine to food to weapons. But above all, things that were almost impossible to pay for at the current state of the Games. After Cashmere had killed Kaili from 4 last night to spare her the infection, there were five tributes left: Cashmere and Magnus from 1, the girl from 6, the boy from 7, and Elowen. Now that the tension had been revived after a few eventful days, the Gamemakers tried to keep it up.

"Elowen isn't stupid," Haymitch finally said. "She has enough berries and water to last a while. She isn't lacking anything. She'll stay where she is." Which meant that Elowen would continue to perch on the treetop in the jungle, where she stayed between periods of foraging for berries and water. She knew where to find both, so her trips were never long. The tree was no different than the other trees in the swamp, tall with few branches and leaves, but it was better than trying one's luck on the ground. Haymitch was happy enough that Elowen had found a tree that wasn't quite as difficult to climb. That was enough of a small victory for him. Deep in his chest, he knew it was only a matter of time, but he had never had any success with this topic when it came to Effie.

"She is missing a weapon," Effie stated. It wasn't the first time she had noticed this fact. Her bright eyes were fixed on their touching knees, her expression conflicted. When she raised her head, Haymitch made an effort to look gentle.

"Attempting to obtain a weapon at the Feast would be suicide."

"I know." Of course she knew. It didn't change the fact that it was the only solution to her problem.

"Come on." Haymitch jumped down from the bar stool, pushed the empty whiskey glass onto the counter, then held out a hand to Effie. A smile crept across his lips as her fingers hesitantly closed around his and she carefully climbed down from the stool. Without his help, she wouldn't have been able to get up onto the stool in the first place.

"What are you up to?" Effie sounded suspicious and curious at the same time. This energy that emanated from him was rare.

"We should talk to new sponsors. There are a few we haven't checked out yet today." An almost disappointed look crept across Effie's face. "But," Haymitch added slowly, and her cornflower-blue eyes landed on him again. Expectant and loving and suddenly he had to think of the previous nights they had spent wrapped tightly together. Haymitch blinked against the images and then she was standing in front of him again, although her gaze was still the same. Haymitch cleared his throat and suddenly felt like he was swaying. "But I thought we could dance again later. You're right. The sponsors should see us together."

"Of course they should." Effie beamed, the shadows of the past few days finally gone. That was enough for Haymitch to know that it had been the right words. "Wonderful that you finally share my sentiments." As if he didn't know that she was just trying to talk her way into his offer in a professional way. Sugarcoating.

The search for sponsors itself, however, was getting on Haymitch's nerves. If people had been reluctant yesterday, they were even less inclined to make a deal with District 12 today. As on most days, he and Effie split up at some point. The hours passed and there wasn't long left until the Feast. Once the Feast had begun, no one in this lounge would be interested in Elowen. Although that was probably already the case.

Eventually, Haymitch just started to wander around aimlessly. Rather than go back to Effie and tell her he had given up. His facial muscles ached from all the fake smiles. His feet ached from the too-tight lace-up shoes that squeezed his toes together and chafed his heels despite his thick socks. All the Capitols around him seemed too light-footed and graceful in their evening wear, and Haymitch wondered if the intricacies of their clothes bothered them as much as it bothered him, or if they fit so perfectly into this – their – world that they didn't have such problems.

"Well, who do we have here?" a cheerful voice suddenly trilled in Haymitch's ear. He tore his eyes away from the colorful crowd that was spreading out around him and turned to the person next to him.

The last time he had seen Laetitia Lowell was during the countdown to the Games. She had raised her glass – perhaps to him or to their deal, he cared little. Today, nine days later, the same mysterious, knowing smile lay on her full, purple lips. But everything else about her bore little resemblance to the person Haymitch associated with her name in his mind.

The woman who now stood before him had long pastel purple hair and wore a tight, jeweled feather dress of the same color, with the shoulder and chest area completely bare. As if she wanted everyone's eyes to wander first to her ample cleavage. Her oval facial features were framed by huge silver diamond earrings and a row of glued-on stones adorned her eyebrows.

Haymitch tilted his head and swallowed the words forming on his tongue. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest and gave her the mildest look he could muster. Even though he had promised Effie that he wouldn't make another deal with Laetitia, it wasn't a good idea to treat a woman like her with hostility. Her habits might be crazy, but she was still the wife of the Head Gamemaker. A fact that must never be forgotten. She was capable of destruction, even if she had perhaps never considered it before.

"It's been a while since I've seen you here," Haymitch finally managed to say. The only good thing about Laetitia was that she preferred the victors without their fake facades. He had no idea why. Maybe she enjoyed the easy-going nature, the sarcasm, the indifference. All qualities that she would never be shown in the Capitol. He didn't really care.

"And lo and behold, a lot has happened." Laetitia beamed, brushed a strand of purple hair over her shoulder and waved an Avox over. "I'm being honest when I say that I didn't believe in the success of Twelve when you came to me. But now ..." An ambiguous grin pushed the corners of her mouth further upwards and her snow-white teeth flashed at Haymitch.

"The odds seem to be in our favor this year," Haymitch remarked half ironically, and Laetitia batted her eyelashes knowingly. He took the glass of champagne that she handed him.

"Only limited, considering the tribute you have left." Laetitia examined one of the screens as if she didn't already know what she wanted from Haymitch. He played along, followed her gaze and watched Elowen for a few seconds as she crouched motionless in the treetop. Waiting. As if her nightmare would pass if she just waited long enough. Laetitia and Haymitch both knew it was an illusion.

"Come on, spit it out," Haymitch finally demanded, his patience usually running short these days.

Laetitia's onyx brown eyes snapped back to him, as if his words had ignited a spark in them. She leaned toward him, so close that her warm breath brushed his ear, and murmured, "I'm throwing a party at my house tonight. I'd love for you to come."

A snort of laughter escaped Haymitch's chest. "Why? We don't know each other that well."

Laetitia just smiled and ran her index finger along the edge of her crystal glass. She shrugged. "I feel sorry for you," she explained, but Haymitch could see the fire of desire in her pupils. So clear he could touch it. Did her usual victors bore her that much? "I'm sure I could get the best out for your girl. It would be a shame to waste her life too."

"There are only five tributes left, Laetitia. How are you going to turn that around for Twelve? If you could do magic, I would have heard about it by now." Haymitch grinned, although he felt rather uneasy. Not because of the offer, which implemented another round of sex. No, he had gotten used to this special currency in the Capitol. The fact that his fingertips began to tingle with the need to say yes made the bile rise in his stomach. He knew Elowen was going to die and Laetitia knew it too. Still, he didn't want to give up without a fight. Did that make him any less of a coward?

"I've already worked my magic, darling." Laetitia's purple nails grazed his shoulder, leaving a painful throb on his body. "Think back to the cornucopia. Do you want to know where your tributes should have actually been placed? Believe me, I've already saved their lives once. I can do it again." Triumph blazed in her eyes. Did she know how hard Haymitch had to try to keep his mouth shut? Did she know how hard he had to pull himself together to resist this twisted survival instinct?

Haymitch blinked. Closed his eyes. Opened them again. A blink of an eye. And suddenly the world before him was different.

"Haymitch, there you are!" called a voice so familiar to him that Haymitch's muscles relaxed as if by themselves. His body turned towards her as if by itself. Relief flooded through him and he didn't know why.

Effie walked slowly to his side, as if time were on her side. Her real blonde hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, but the wide smile on her pink lips was all the more artificial. "I have been looking for you everywhere!" There was that false accent in her tone that the Capitols usually used among themselves; laid on so thickly that Haymitch suddenly couldn't help but smile. What a show she was putting on here.

"Sorry," Haymitch replied, playing along. "I must have lost track of time. Am I late?"

"Not quite yet." Effie's blue eyes slowly slid from Haymitch to Laetitia, as if she was just noticing the woman. She batted her eyelashes once, widened her smile curiously, and otherwise showed no sign of recognition on her face. As if they hadn't already met nine days ago. As if the wife of the Head Gamemaker was a stranger – someone you didn't have to know. "Forgive me. I hope I am not interrupting." Then she held out her hand to Laetitia with all the false friendliness she possessed. "My name is Effie Trinket, escort of District Twelve."

"Laetitia Lowell," was all Laetitia said back, a little thrown off track. She wasn't used to having to introduce herself. Despite her young age, everyone in the Capitol knew her. Not today.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Effie sounded exuberant. Could your own voice give you a headache if you spoke like that all day?

"Likewise," Laetitia replied, suddenly not as smug as she had been a moment ago. She took a polite step back, the fire in her eyes extinguished.

"We should go if we do not want to keep our appointment waiting." The pink dress Effie was wearing hugged her body flatteringly, making her look even more graceful than she already was. Haymitch looked back and forth between Effie and Laetitia and wondered how two such similar colors could have such different effects. Next to Effie, Laetitia's pastel purple suddenly didn't seem so unusual anymore.

"Definitely not," Haymitch agreed, offering Effie his arm. And as Effie politely apologized to Laetitia, he nodded at her over his shoulder. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass."

Had Haymitch known the price of abandoning Laetitia Lowell in such a manner, he wouldn't have so carelessly followed Effie into doom. Instead, the ignorant, naive victor turned on his heel and missed the shift of emotions that took place on Laetitia's face. Missed the way a new fire began to glow in her eyes.

-

For all readers of my FF Figure It Out, this was a special chapter. I hope I somehow did justice to your expectations! :)

Those who have already looked at my Pinterest will know that my inspiration for Laetitia Lowell's look is Kylie Jenner.

Spoiler for Figure It Out:

Incidentally, that is also the dress that Effie is wearing in the photo of her and Haymitch kissing. And which Caesar shows her during the interview during her imprisonment. So the photo was taken today. I'm saying that now because it won't play a role here and won't be mentioned, but maybe it's nice to know.

End of spoiler

See you,

Skyllen