I Can't Be Saved

"It changes nothing. He will go to the Games. The Gamemakers will make sure he gets a good death there," said Haymitch, aware of how harsh his words sounded. But he couldn't and wouldn't hold them back. The world around him was spinning.

"How can you be so sure?" asked Effie, suddenly breathless, her large blue eyes fixed on him.

He felt a stab in his chest, but his tongue was faster than his mind. The words tumbled out before he could think better of it. "Because the Capitol doesn't let things like this slide. He hurt you, and you're one of them. They'll make him pay for it in the arena."

Haymitch watched as Effie's mask fell for a second and an expression of dismay flashed across her face. "But—"

"No buts," he interrupted harshly, needing to steady himself against the doorframe. The alcohol was coursing through his veins, numbing his senses and making him reckless. "Even if Ramon had a real chance of winning, he's blown it now. The Capitol doesn't give second chances."

Effie felt a chilling sense of fear in her stomach. Of course, she wasn't to blame for Ramon's behavior, yet she couldn't help but feel guilty. She looked at Haymitch with an expressionless gaze. His eyes were glazed over; he was definitely drunk. His fingers clung to her doorframe as if he might collapse at any moment. But what concerned her more were his words. The way he spoke about it all as if it were an old habit, nothing special, as if he had experienced it himself.

"How do you know that?" Effie finally asked. She hadn't known Haymitch for very long, but it had quickly become clear to her that he disliked talking about the Games or the Capitol. And when he did, it was only in the harshest terms. The evening after the Opening Ceremony flashed before her eyes. The Capitol loves to see us suffer. She couldn't get those words out of her head, still wondering what they truly meant.

To her surprise, Haymitch laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh. It was dark and sad. For the first time, Effie wondered what had really happened to him. It couldn't be that a person was naturally like this, could it? She doubted it very much. "That's a long story," Haymitch finally murmured in a toneless voice. All warmth had vanished from his gaze as he staggered heavily into her room.

Effie didn't know what to do. He was obviously drunk and barely in control. And yet, he had come to her. With a soft click, she shut the door and turned to Haymitch, who had seated himself on her bed with such ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His lack of manners had only worsened with the alcohol.

For a moment, she leaned against the door and looked into his gray, vacant eyes. Blond strands fell into his face. Then she took a step toward him, though she wasn't sure what she intended to do. "I have time."

Haymitch lifted his head in her direction and seemed to genuinely consider it. "I would shatter your view of a just and compassionate Capitol. You wouldn't believe me because it would break your faith in the Capitol."

They stared at each other in silence. His words made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Effie tried not to dwell on them, but there was only one thought she couldn't shake. The Capitol was not what it pretended to be. The Capitol had done things to him that had turned him into the person he was today. Terrible things. Could that really be true? Did she actually want to know? Everything in Effie resisted the idea. Haymitch hadn't stated a fact; he had only offered possibilities. He hadn't confirmed anything. He hadn't told her the truth. The Capitol was her home, her safe haven. It was generous and beautiful. Did she want to learn the truth? Did she want to risk seeing her home differently?

Even though Effie would never say it out loud, the Hunger Games were not something she associated with generosity, beauty, or even social justice. She hadn't been part of the Hunger Games for long, but even in this short time, it had become clear that things were very different from how they appeared on television. The small, starving children who looked at her defiantly, blaming her for their fate. The perpetually drunk mentor who hardly lifted a finger for the children's well-being and spent most of his time with a bottle. The fact that these children stared death in the face and somehow accepted it. Effie felt that behind the glamorous facade of the Hunger Games, as seen on TV, there was something cold, invisible, and perhaps even malevolent. And she had gained this impression after just a few days. She just couldn't quite put into words what was really going on.

Effie had stopped a few steps in front of Haymitch. "Sometimes lies are easier to bear than the truth." So, she shook her head. Haymitch's eyes darkened as if he was disappointed. But she could see understanding mix into his expression.

A tiny part of him had wanted to tell her the truth, had wanted to share the torments that Snow had inflicted on him after his victory. But she didn't want to hear it, and he could understand. Effie lived in an ideal world and was now encountering the dark side of the Capitol for the first time. She didn't want to have to question the life she led. Haymitch knew that one day she would have to. Eventually, the moment would come, something would happen, and it would throw her off balance, forcing her to face the truth. As he looked at her, he hoped that this moment would be a long time coming. He didn't want her to be drawn into the vortex of destruction, pain, and death. The way she stood before him, with her shining blue eyes and gentle expression. Reality had not yet marked her. Even though he would never say it out loud, Effie seemed like a loyal and probably good person. A part of him feared having to watch her change.

Haymitch closed his eyes and stumbled to his feet. He knew it wouldn't be long now. The death of the girl would break her. The girl would break her heart. He knew it because it had happened to him the same way. The moment this thought crossed his mind, he realized that Effie Trinket was not like the others here in the Capitol. He could pretend otherwise as much as he wanted. She was vulnerable, she was kind-hearted, and she would fall apart just like all the good people did.

He didn't know what came over him. He only knew that she stood a step away from him, still looking at him with that pained expression that reminded him too much of the past. Of all the pain he had had to endure. Of all the deaths he had had to survive. Haymitch didn't know what overcame him when he reached out and pulled her to him. He only knew that she didn't resist when he pressed his lips to hers. Not gently or sweetly, but hard and unyielding. As if he couldn't breathe and was now gasping for air.

Effie leaned against him, stock still for a second. Her heart raced in her chest. Haymitch tasted of bitter alcohol, but to her own surprise, it didn't bother her. A silent gasp escaped her as she leaned in to bring her lips closer. She dug her fingers into his upper arms, and he exhaled over her.

Haymitch smelled of the forest, earth, and soap. Not her type at all, just like the way he kissed. Effie wanted to be courted by a gentleman. She wanted to be showered with gifts. Kisses should be tender and loving, and ideally, they only came after you'd been seeing each other regularly for a while. Not like this. Especially not at her age, when she should have already been looking for a potential husband. The time for unrestrained kisses was over. At least, it should have been. Her mother would probably faint if she saw her now.

Haymitch's lips slid over hers and the moment felt like an eternity. She felt his hands tugging at her dress. She bit his lip, which made him groan. Effie hesitated for a second and smiled to herself. She had never heard such a sound come out of his mouth before and she liked it. It seemed as if the kiss was helping them to release their pent up feelings. It seemed as if the kiss was long overdue. And yet they had only known each other for how long? Three days? Four days?

It was this thought that finally made Effie flinch. What in Panem's name were they doing? Haymitch was her mentor, it was her job to look after him and the tributes. She shouldn't kiss him. Was that even allowed? She doubted it. They wouldn't approve of something like that in the Capitol, just as she shouldn't approve of it in the first place. And yet her heart was pounding like crazy. She took a halting breath and then pressed her hands to Haymitch's chest when he tried to pull her back to him. Finally, she raised her head and stared straight into his gray eyes.

"You're drunk," she whispered tonelessly. Her voice was barely louder than the breath of a summer breeze. It was the first thing that popped into her head. "If you were sober, you'd never do this. I'm Capitol, remember?" Effie didn't know why she was repeating his words, but it seemed like a good strategy to bring him back to reality. Because it was true, Haymitch would never willingly kiss a woman from the Capitol unless he was completely drunk. She felt an unfamiliar pang flare up in her stomach, but she had to ignore it. This was wrong and they both knew it. He probably knew it better than she did.

What was wrong with them? They were both old enough to know this crossed the line. There were plenty of other women and men in this city they could have fun with. But their working relationship prohibited any physical closeness – to prevent anything deeper. Fortunately, they didn't particularly like each other, but that didn't mean the rules didn't apply to them.

Effie's words actually had an effect. Haymitch took a step back from her and ran his hand through his blond hair. She had expected disgust or dislike in his eyes, but instead, all she saw was confusion and the reflection of her own suffering. He lowered his arms, which now hung almost uselessly at his sides. Effie breathed in his fresh, bittersweet scent and then took a step back herself.

Haymitch walked to the door. He was no longer swaying, but he still didn't look completely steady on his feet. His fingers gripped the door handle for a moment. Then he turned around one last time and to her surprise a barely visible smile played on his lips. Effie knew that even when drunk he was usually in control.

"You should wear your hair down. You look much better without those silly wigs." His eyes sparkled. The door slammed shut behind him.

Effie stared at the spot where Haymitch had just been standing. Her mouth had opened slightly, as if she wanted to say something back. She knew immediately what he meant. Ramon had ripped the wig off her head during his attack and Haymitch had then seen her real hair. He had touched it as he had brushed it away from her face in a calming gesture. Effie could do nothing about the warmth that spread through her chest. She could not stop her lips from forming a small smile.

oOo

The sun was dipping towards the horizon as Haymitch sank onto the couch in the living room with a sigh. Their tributes would be returning from training in a few minutes, and Effie had actually assigned him to meet them personally on the ground floor. But he had never done that, and after fifteen years, he wasn't about to start now.

Haymitch hadn't seen Effie since their incident last night. He had shown up late for breakfast, and throughout the day, she seemed to have stayed away from the Training Center. The only evidence that she had been here at all was the note in his hand. In neat, pointed handwriting, Effie apologized for her absence due to a mandatory meeting and asked him to pick up the tributes from training in her place.

But he wasn't going to make it that easy for her. Haymitch raised the glass in his right hand and regarded the amber liquid thoughtfully. She had returned his kiss. He didn't know why. He had kissed her. And he didn't know why. In the morning, he had woken up with a throbbing pain in his temple. But instead of getting up like he usually did to look for a painkiller, he had stayed in bed. He had lain on his back, stared at the ceiling, and cursed his brain for not erasing the scenes from the previous night.

Haymitch cursed himself for his stupidity. Not because he had kissed Effie – no, she wasn't the first Capitol woman he had kissed. And it was just a kiss – no more, no less – and it held no significance. People kissed all the time without it meaning anything, especially in the Capitol. No, Haymitch cursed himself because he didn't regret it. He had seen a part of Effie's personality that he couldn't forget. Her fear. Even in his impaired state, he had seen it in her eyes. She was smarter than most people in the Capitol. She had seen behind the facade, if only for a moment, and had immediately understood. And that was dangerous. Petunia had been exhausting, but she had always praised the Capitol fervently. Haymitch wasn't so sure Effie would be able to do the same in the long run. And that was even more dangerous.

In an almost angry gesture, he raised the glass to his lips. At the same moment, he heard the elevator doors echo through the floor. A few seconds later, footsteps sounded in the corridors, and an expressionless Ramon entered the room, followed closely by two Peacekeepers. Haymitch only needed a fleeting glance to read the simmering anger in his eyes. Being accompanied by Peacekeepers must have been a humiliation. The other tributes would laugh behind his back and not take him seriously.

As the boy noticed Haymitch on the sofa, he deliberately turned his head in the other direction. He had already crossed half of the living room when Elowen stumbled into the room. Haymitch couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the sight of her. A wide grin was on her lips, and her thin fingers clutched the door frame.

"What did they put in your drink?" Haymitch asked, only half-joking, as he scrutinized the girl more closely. She wore the same outfit as Ramon: plain black pants and a T-shirt with a red 12 printed on the back. Her blonde-brown hair was tied in a ponytail, with a few unruly strands escaping to frame her narrow face. Her green eyes had a glassy sheen that was all too familiar to Haymitch.

With flushed cheeks, Elowen smiled at him. "It was a great day! I met so many nice people, and they are all so kind."

"Did you do any training or just waste the day drinking?" Haymitch almost sighed. A bad feeling began to settle in him. His eyes shifted to Ramon, who gave Elowen a bitter look. He seemed uninvolved, which was enough to make Haymitch somewhat relieved.

"Of course we trained," Elowen giggled, holding a hand over her mouth. Haymitch closed his eyes in resignation and leaned back into the sofa. "Magnus showed me some weapons and taught me so much! We'll be the perfect team!"

At these words, Haymitch almost choked on his whiskey. "A team? More like an alliance. But you shouldn't make that decision too quickly. Who is this Magnus anyway?"

"He's the male tribute from District One," Ramon answered him with surprising speed, his voice barely masking his disdain. This time, Haymitch could understand. You didn't form alliances with District One. Those tributes spent their entire childhoods training at a special academy to eventually volunteer for the Games.

Haymitch sighed again and wondered, at that moment, why he even cared. It shouldn't matter to him what happened to the girl. But Effie cared about her, and she was too young to see things clearly. "We'll talk about it later. Get some sleep and sober up before dinner. It wouldn't be good for Trinket to see you like this."

Elowen nodded, still grinning, and staggered through the living room. You could see that she had had quite a bit to drink, but her body was young. Haymitch was pretty sure she would make it to her room. What happened after that was no longer his problem. He drained what little was left of his glass and glanced at Ramon, who hadn't moved an inch. The boy knew for sure what Magnus from District 1 was planning. But the look on Ramon's face told Haymitch that he would not warn Elowen. They both came from the same District, but the Capitol made them enemies. Even if Elowen would never pose a threat to Ramon.

Haymitch sighed once more and gazed out at the city. The setting sun reflected in the crystal glass of the skyscrapers. He wondered if this reign would ever come to an end. When he had first entered the Capitol after the death of his family, he had wondered how something so beautiful on the outside could be so ugly on the inside. Today, the face of the city had transformed into something unsightly in his eyes. When he looked at the towering buildings of the Capitol now, he no longer saw the aesthetically pleasing creations crafted by human hands. He saw yet another display of power, a reminder to the Districts that only the Capitol alone had the ability to create beauty. But things you hated couldn't be found beautiful.

-

Hi guys!

Sorry for my late updating, I sometimes still forget my new update-days. Last week was rather exhausting ... 

I'll probably not be posting this Thursday because I'm going to see the one and only Taylor Swift!!! Yaaaaay!!! I'll update later, though, probably Saturday. 

Please give this chapter a like and comment, since it's the only recognition we authors are getting! :)

Skyllen