Audacity of Men

Effie stood in the sponsors' lounge, a cool glass of red wine in her left hand. Even without the heat of the sun pressing against every fiber of her skin, she would have known it was early afternoon. The fifth day of the Hunger Games, and she was already able to tell the time of day by the mood of the people. Morning meant calculating businessmen at the betting booths, noon meant accessible sponsors, and by the afternoon the focus was shifting from money to entertainment. From now on, it would be harder to negotiate deals. Once evening arrived, it would be nearly impossible.

The change was taking place, and the bars were getting busier. Glasses of alcohol were increasingly being handed out, so Effie had gotten herself one of her own. She didn't really feel like it, but it was her job to blend in with the people around her. And if a wine glass suggested she was just chatting casually about her District, Effie was happy to play along.

But unlike the days before, the sponsors weren't in a good mood today. No one wanted to talk to her, with or without alcohol. The amusement that should have been evident on their faces by now was missing. Of course, Effie knew the reason. It triggered mixed feelings in her. It was afternoon, almost evening, but nothing had happened in the arena: The Careers weren't at their best today. Cashmere was her usual self, motivated and alert and always looking for traces of the other tributes. It was the rest of the group that couldn't keep up with her. They were still not over the death of the girl from District 2; they hadn't forgotten that Cashmere had ended her life. They trudged after Cashmere, faces ranging from concerned to neutral, as if they hadn't realized until this moment that they too were vulnerable in this arena. Thirteen tributes were already dead, the remaining eleven were scattered all over the map. They were too far apart to meet today unless the Gamemakers intervened. But it was still too early to intervene.

It was all exactly as Haymitch had predicted. Effie's eyes swept over the crowds of people milling around the rooftop terrace, looking for him. She stopped at his dark blond hair, which had barely moved since they had split. He was deep in conversation and Effie had to squint to recognize the woman from this distance. She couldn't remember the name, but the face looked familiar from some movies. Actress. Whatever Haymitch told her, it made her laugh. She put her slender fingers to her mouth and giggled as he pressed an orange glass into her hand.

Effie sighed to herself and tried to look away but couldn't. She couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them since last night. Something had changed. She had fallen asleep against him – not one of those minutes of rest, but a sound, deep sleep. And instead of waking her, Haymitch had carried her to her room and laid her on her bed. This was the second time he had found her sleeping, although the first time had been shortly after their arrival at the Capitol and under different circumstances. Effie had woken up when he had picked her up. She had been awake, but her ridiculous body had felt too comfortable, had enjoyed his touch too much, to be interested. Now that the last of the tiredness had left her, Effie felt wonderful and terrible at the same time.

Effie had kissed Haymitch on that first night of the Games purely out of amusement — because he had been getting on her nerves so terribly, and she couldn't quite figure him out. She had hoped that a kiss might disarm his pent-up anger. She liked Haymitch. When he wasn't under the influence, he was an amusing, remarkable man.

Effie had kissed Haymitch because there had been a flutter in her stomach, a reminder that she wouldn't stay this age forever — that someday it would be too late to embrace the unknown, as she would likely be happily married with new responsibilities. Effie wanted that fleeting phase, where she could forget the ticking clock, to last just a bit longer.

Effie had kissed Haymitch because he was a victor, and part of her had hoped that kissing him would finally quell her craving for adventure. After all, what could be more thrilling than kissing a victor? At least, that was what she had asked herself before the kiss. Too soon, she had realized that the desire to step out of her own shoes and into someone else's, if only to forget her own world for a moment, hadn't faded.

Effie had kissed Haymitch because she had hoped he would be kinder if he believed she wanted him. Now ... as things were unfolding, their chemistry seemed to fit better than expected — at least when it came to kisses, touches, and passion, and had nothing to do with the Games.

Effie had longed for intimacy because she didn't want to be alone, especially now that the Games had started, and everything had turned into a huge disaster. No glamour, no glory, no victory. It was all just tears, blood and death. How could she have been so blind? She didn't understand. She also didn't understand how Haymitch could even put up with her when his opinion of the Capitol was so harsh. She had spent so much time with him in the last week and still didn't feel like she really knew his inner self. Just like she didn't want to reveal more of her inner self to him than she already had.

Effie forced herself to close her eyes for a moment, to shake off these thoughts that would only throw her further off track. Instead, she pictured her mother's cool face to remind herself why she was here in the first place. She was sure that her mother would have done a better job. Lyssandra Trinket would have felt right at home here on the podium of Panem. She would have managed to wrap one sponsor after another around her finger. She would certainly have been good at ignoring the fate of these children. Effie didn't know how she could manage to imitate this behavior. Let alone just switch off her emotions and look away.

The only consolation in her predicament was the fact that she had already surpassed Petunia's performance of the past years. Both Elowen and Ramon were alive and only eleven tributes remained. All that was needed was for one more tribute to die and they would both be in the top 10. Effie hoped that this would spur her situation on sponsors. Because except for the brief moment of relief when Elowen had escaped death, the situation around District 12 was as poor as Haymitch had predicted. No one was interested in them, no matter how many people they spoke to.

Today was no exception. Especially not today, when the Capitol was milling around bored and waiting for anything to happen. Haymitch and Effie had split up to try a new approach. Their last conversation with a not unknown singer who liked to perform at the interview after-show parties had been unsuccessful. He had obviously not been interested in any tributes other than those from District 1. Effie hadn't been able to keep up her monologue for five minutes before his attention had turned to other things. The fact that he had even stooped to speak with representatives from District 12 bordered on a miracle.

Days like this weren't good for anyone. Not for the Gamemakers, because they shouldn't be remembered as lacking in creativity. Not good for the betting offices and corporate machinery behind the Games, because no one was spending any money and so no profits were being made. Not good for the spectators, because a ticket to this event cost more than a small car and precious time was wasting away while nothing was happening in the arena. The mood wasn't bad yet, no. People were celebrating Cashmere, after all she was the favorite of most, but she had already killed so many times that it was starting to get boring. People wanted something new, exciting, nerve-racking. But the arena offered none of that, and gradually the conversations shifted away from the Games to other matters, and as soon as the Games were no longer the center of attention ... the purpose was likely missed.

Effie was almost relieved when someone tapped her on the shoulder at that moment. She turned around, expecting to see Haymitch. A strange face surprised her. A tall, slender man with his shoulder-length ebony hair in round braids gave a half-bow before beginning to smile. He must have been around forty. "Miss Trinket, right? Alucard Sparrow is my name. I am a fan, I must confess."

Effie nodded, smiling, and shook his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, I am flattered." He was dressed in a cream-colored suit, the jacket of which reached down to the back of his knees and was cut somewhat like a ringmaster's costume. Gold embroidery and patterns adorned his clothes, and he had thrown a pink fur shawl over his shoulders as if it were the dead of winter. His eyes were hidden behind gold sunglasses, the rims of which were shaped like flowers.

"I have to get one thing off my chest," Alucard Sparrow blurted, his voice deep and coaxing. "You look absolutely fantastic today!" His features weren't unattractive — contoured cheekbones and a broad jaw — but it was the way he twisted his mouth as he made the comment that caught Effie's attention. Not unkind at all, but still ... smug and arrogant was more fitting. Yet at the same time, he didn't seem rude in the slightest.

"Thank you very much." Effie's smile didn't waver for a second. This man had certainly not just spoken to her to chat, if he knew exactly who she was. She couldn't pass up this opportunity. Especially after all the failures that day had brought.

Sparrow didn't make it difficult for her to get a foothold. He seemed to be someone who liked to talk about everything under the sun, but most of all about himself. "I am deputy mayor of the Southern Outer Circle and truly admire your work for Twelve. I think we have a lot in common in that respect. A lot of work for little reward." He winked. The Southern Outer Circle was one of the least attractive areas in the Capitol. Higher unemployment, higher poverty, higher crime. The comparison with District 12 still didn't seem very appropriate to Effie. But before she could object, Sparrow had already moved on. "Many of my friends have already invested in other Districts and I think Twelve might be the right one for me. What do you think of the idea?"

"You have definitely come to the right place," Effie replied, beaming, but the strange feeling continued. There was something about the sight of Sparrow that didn't sit well with her, even if she couldn't decipher what it was. "May I ask why you are interested in District Twelve? Do you have a deeper interest in one of our tributes, or do you have questions you would like answered first?" It was unusual for sponsors to reveal themselves so directly. Usually they would hint at a vague interest, ask a specific question that would then develop into a longer dialogue. Not even the junior sponsors approached a deal like that. It was more like the game within the game, where you had to prove yourself level by level to even negotiate real numbers. But this ...

"We outsiders should support each other, don't you think?" Sparrow grinned down at Effie and patted her shoulder before taking a sip from his glass. "I believe my money will be in good hands with you. Do you think we can do business?"

Effie's body wanted to tense up, but she didn't allow it. She didn't allow a hint of negative emotion to cross her face before she stepped back, smiling, and clapped her hands. "Wonderful. Then we should talk about your exact ideas. What kind of sponsorship were you thinking of, Mister Sparrow?"

"Alucard," he corrected casually, gesturing toward the gardens set slightly apart from the terraces. "How about a little walk and I will explain exactly what I have in mind. It is so loud here, I can hardly understand you."

Effie couldn't help but comply with his request. She nodded politely and followed Alucard as he made his way out of the crowd. The noise level was actually quite high, and the crowds were large. The roof terrace was always full of people at this time of day. They were still in the middle of it when he started talking again.

"I noticed you from the first moment I saw you on TV!" chirped Alucard in a charismatic tone, his eyes always on Effie. "I do not know many women who have the charisma you do. And this is just your first year. If I could bet on you, I would not hesitate!"

"You flatter me, Alucard," Effie replied with a fake giggle, holding her hand to her mouth in mock amusement. They stepped out of the crowd and Alucard's hand wandered to her back as if by magic to lead her to the gardens. The same garden where she and Haymitch had been yesterday. Effie suppressed the urge to turn around and see if he was still engrossed in conversation with that actress. Instead, she raised her head to meet Alucard's gaze, which she could feel constantly on her. "Now, to District Twelve. I am very pleased that you are interested in getting involved. The majority of our sponsors contribute in the form of gifts. What do you have in mind?"

"You are the escort, Effie, so you know what the tributes need," Alucard said, shrugging and matching his stride to Effie's to walk right next to her. With his hand on her back, they were now barely more than a hand's width apart. "I will give you what you want. How does that sound?"

Effie didn't show the discomfort that Alucard's proximity caused. After all, she hadn't lived in the Capitol since yesterday and was familiar with the brazen behavior that some men displayed. Although both sexes were equal in Panem, it was no secret that men often still had the upper hand. Whether it was the government, which was predominantly male, the ranks of the Gamemakers or the lecturers at the universities. Likewise, some people let this superiority show in social interactions; simply because they usually got away with it – especially when it was someone influential. Effie played through the different scenarios in her head, tried to calculate the different outcomes and then decided that she had no choice but to play along. It was too late to back out now. She could only hope that Alucard Sparrow knew his limits.

"I thank you for the trust you have placed in me. We certainly appreciate it. Since the arena is somewhat unpredictable at the moment, monetary donations would help us the most," Effie explained, her eyes fixed on the entrance to the labyrinth that Alucard was leading her to. She felt the insides of her hands suddenly become moist when she thought about why people usually came here.

"Great!" Alucard squeezed Effie's bare shoulder, and she was annoyed at the choice of the navy blue dress, which reached to the floor but emphasized the chest and neck area. Compared to her other dresses, it was rather simple and classic, but no less beautiful. Right now, however, the lack of fabric was not particularly helpful. "Now, on to your business part of the agreement, Effie."

They had barely passed the ivy arch of the labyrinth, barely made the first turn, when Alucard's fingers began to wander. This time Effie couldn't control her muscles as they began to rebel. She felt her feet take a staggering step backwards. The branches of the meter-high bushes pressed into her bald back, and she had to resist the urge not to run straight back into Alucard's arms.

Alucard, who had noticed Effie's distance, smiled warmly down at Effie and stroked her upper arm soothingly, as if to calm her down. His eyes were still hidden under his gold sunglasses, but the wrinkles on his forehead deepened as he leaned toward her. "I will help you and you will help me, it is as simple as that, Effie," he whispered in a conspiratorial tone, as if he were excited about the next few minutes.

Adrenaline rushed through Effie's veins, hot and pulsing, but she knew she had already made her decision before she had entered the labyrinth with Alucard. She knew this was the only way to collect money for Elowen and Ramon today. So she didn't flinch from his lips as he pressed them against the crook of her neck. His fingers wandered from her arms down to her hips, and just as Effie thought he was going to draw the line there, Alucard pulled her back toward her. He pressed her body against his and both his lips and hands began to explore her.

Effie closed her eyelids and concentrated on her breathing, which was drowned out only by the sound of her heartbeat. Her heart was pounding against her ribs so hard that she felt as if it would burst through her skin at any moment. Away from the action, the numerous voices had merged into a distant murmur. The labyrinth around her was so silent that Effie felt as if an impenetrable wall was separating her from the rest of the world. Alucard's irregular breathing was like a groan, and although it couldn't compete with the pounding of blood in her ears, it seemed to fill the air around her. The sound paralyzed her limbs, making her stand still.

"You are lucky, Effie," Alucard murmured, his mouth on her throat, his fingers on her butt. He smelled of cigars and leather and his perfume burned Effie's nose. "Other sponsors charge a lot more for what I am offering you."

Effie wondered if he was right; if there were other unscrupulous men out there who really wanted more, and how many escorts gave themselves over to them because they knew that anything else could ruin their careers. She knew there were quite a few.

All the questions evaporated from her mind as Alucard's fingers dug deeper into the coated fabric of her dress and with a jolt, she again felt the branches of the bush at her back. The world spun around Effie and she didn't know where the sudden disorientation came from. She struggled to swallow the bile as Alucard's lips moved to her own and forced them apart with determination. Effie's feet trembled and for a second, she feared they would give way beneath her. She forced her eyes to stay closed and wished she could do the same with her ears.

Was this really worth it? Was this really the right thing? The nausea in Effie's stomach had a clear opinion.

Footsteps echoed across the polished stone. Heavy and precise. Effie heard them, but Alucard was too lost in a fantasy to hear them coming. She mumbled something against his mouth, but he just shook his head and forced her jaw with his fingers, preventing her from causing any further trouble.

The footsteps stopped, and now Alucard's smacking was all that broke the isolated silence. Effie's fingers clenched into fists as she tried to banish her emotions to the deepest part of her body; so far from the surface that icy passivity was all she allowed herself at that moment.

Then, just when she thought she had her emotions under control, the footsteps sounded again. Closer now. So close that a cold shiver ran down Effie's spine. She barely managed to blink as the pressure of Alucard's fingers disappeared from her body. His grip was so tight that she stumbled several steps toward him before Alucard finally had to let her go. He opened his mouth, an indignant snort on his tongue.

Effie blinked again and then opened her eyes, too shocked to react in a more appropriate way. Alucard staggered back several meters and collided with the bushes behind him. His sunglasses had slipped off his nose and now lay broken on the ground. He yanked the fur scarf around his neck in one forceful movement and then raised his head. Anger flared in his dark green eyes. Not at Effie, no, he didn't spare another glance for her. Alucard stared at Haymitch, who looked as if he had been struck by lightning.

Haymitch didn't wait for another reaction, he charged at Alucard without giving him another moment of realization. His suit jacket lay on the polished stone floor next to Effie, carelessly thrown down without thinking twice. It took Haymitch only a fraction of a blink of an eye to reach Alucard, and even though Alucard was about a head taller than him, Alucard didn't stand a chance. Effie could only watch in horror as Haymitch's fist struck Alucard in the face, sending him flying to the ground. Something cracked, and she didn't have to look to know that Alucard's nose was broken. Blood spurted from his lips, down his chin, dripping onto his cream suit, and then onto the stone. A cry of pain escaped him, but Haymitch didn't stop. A breath later, he grabbed his collar, hoisted him to his feet as if he were a flyweight, and then struck again. Again, his nose.

Alucard's screams grew louder, and Effie snapped out of her trance as if she had taken the blow herself. She stumbled forward and grabbed Haymitch's arm to pull him away. To her surprise, he let go of Alucard as if he had been burned and turned his face to her over his shoulder. Blood splattered his white shirt. Dark blond hair fell over his forehead. Stormy gray eyes met hers and Effie had to force herself to breathe normally as she saw the hatred in his features. Hatred, disgust and a touch of madness, as if he had intended to kill Alucard just a second ago.

Effie didn't know what Haymitch saw on her face, but she was pretty sure she wasn't in control of her expression. She could feel the emotions trying to bubble back to the surface. It felt like they were ripping at her limbs to free themselves. Her body trembled with the effort of maintaining passivity. They were still in the sponsors' lounge, this was still business, they still had to maintain professionalism.

Haymitch didn't look like he cared about professionalism. His head snapped back to Alucard so suddenly that Effie heard his neck crack. Alucard was kneeling on the floor, holding his nose. His fingers were covered in blood. He looked pretty vulnerable, except for his angry eyes, which were studying Haymitch as if he had had every right in the world to use Effie like that.

"If I see you here again, today or tomorrow or next year, your nose won't be the only thing that breaks. Got it?" His voice had taken on a murderous, growling tone that made Effie let go of his arm. This wasn't the Haymitch she knew. This wasn't even the Haymitch who had choked Petunia outside the lounge. This was someone else entirely. This is the victor, a voice whispered in her head. This is the man who made it out of the arena.

Alucard was deluded enough not to understand that this Haymitch would actually kill him if he felt like it. Alucard didn't understand that Haymitch didn't care about the consequences of his death. Alucard didn't even understand that Haymitch wouldn't give his death another thought. Alucard assumed that he was under the protection of the Capitol, that he was untouchable, that a District man would never dare to harm a Capitol man. Effie could see all that false arrogance sparkling in his eyes and instinctively wondered how she could have thought the same thing just a few weeks ago.

"What in the name of Panem do you think you are doing here?" Alucard barked, spitting blood onto Haymitch's patent leather shoes before he got to his feet in pain. "Do you know who you are dealing with?"

"I don't give a fucking shit who you are," Haymitch hissed, reaching into his pocket. Silver flashed in the shadows of his figure and Effie had to squint to make out the object. A knife. A lightning-fast, barely perceptible movement of his hand later, Haymitch had opened the blade. A brutal grin spread across his mouth.

"If Snow cared about you, you wouldn't be walking around like a clueless clown," Haymitch said, all emotion gone from his voice. It sounded bottomless, empty, and dead.

"Haymitch," Effie said, her voice equally flat, but the warning was unmistakable.

Alucard's confidence faded like the last flame of a dying candle. His features wavered and for a moment his forest green eyes darted to Effie. He puffed out his chest as if that would make him more serious. "With a mentor like him, you will never amount to anything, Effie," he said, finally making a move to walk past them.

But Haymitch still hadn't had enough. "Don't you want to apologize to her for your deviant behavior?"

Alucard raised his eyebrows, as if he were stunned, as if he hadn't even acknowledged his wrongdoing. "Apologize?"

"Yes, apologize," Haymitch growled, closing the new distance between them.

"This is ridiculous," Alucard replied, sniffling in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. "You two should be apologizing to me. This was a deal from which Miss Trinket would have greatly benefited. But thanks to your disrespectful behavior, that opportunity is now lost. I am no longer interested in a deal with District Twelve. A bunch of barbarians. I am going to tend to my nose and will send you the bill. I will personally complain to the Head Gamemaker."

"Do your worst. But you better hurry up before I decide to slit your throat here and now," Haymitch replied, balancing the knife on the inside of his palm.

"You should be ashamed of this, Miss Trinket," Alucard snorted, his pupils glowing. He turned on his heel and strutted away without saying another word.

Alucard had barely disappeared around the next corner when Haymitch turned to Effie. The silver in his eyes was hard, anger still coursing through his veins. "What the hell was that?!" The accusation in his voice didn't make it any easier for her to breathe at normal intervals. She still felt like everything was spinning and her heart was still trying to punch a hole in her chest. There was a pressure on her head, as if something was hovering over her that she couldn't escape, no matter how many steps she took.

"Come," Haymitch finally said, roughly grabbing Effie's arm and his jacket from the floor. They left the labyrinth behind them and Effie knew that she should be worried that the fresh blood on Haymitch's shirt would be noticed by everyone. But she didn't have the strength to care. She couldn't care.

But Haymitch didn't lead her back to the lounge. He marched toward the nearest greenhouse and Effie just managed to stagger along behind him. The air in the greenhouse was oppressive. Too warm. The climate was too different from what she was used to in the Capitol. Her lungs had trouble taking in the oxygen.

Effie slowly put one foot in front of the other, but still couldn't see where she was going. She could only hope that she wouldn't trip. Even the thought of ruining her dress caused nothing but a dull, barely perceptible ache in her stomach. Effie felt numb from the inside out. Like a poison that was eating through her veins and wiping out all emotion.

Slow footsteps followed her through the greenhouse, pushed the door shut with a click, and moved into the shade of the large plants that reminded Effie of a beach. At least the way she imagined a beach. Since the Capitol wasn't on the sea, she had never visited one. The broad, long leaves of the palm trees offered protection from the greedy gazes of potential gawkers. Let them gawk or barge in. She couldn't care less.

Haymitch touched her arm and turned her around to face him. Effie couldn't raise her head to look into his face. Every fiber of her body suddenly felt as heavy as lead. "What were you thinking, Effie?"

Something clicked. Effie didn't know exactly what fell into place in her mind or if the realization of the past half hour finally penetrated her brain. Haymitch's words dragged her back to the surface; they forced her to justify herself. She still believed she had acted rightly, even though her body felt otherwise.

Effie turned her back on Haymitch and barely made it to the next plant before she vomited. Her long nails dug into the edge of the flowerpot to keep her footing. Then, when her stomach finally stopped churning, she burst into tears.

Haymitch's stunned silence was so loud that Effie could practically hear it. At least for the split second it took him to wake up from his own rage-ridden stupor. Carefully, as if he didn't really want to touch her, he stroked her back and pressed a handkerchief into her hand. He was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say without accusing her.

"You shouldn't have followed us," the sensible, dutiful part of Effie muttered. She didn't fully stand behind her own words, and she knew it showed in her crumbling tone.

"Don't even give me that," Haymitch replied, shaking his head vigorously. He seemed to be unable to decide whether to remain angry or empathetic. "Why didn't you do anything? You should have stopped the second he started that shit instead of letting it happen to you."

"What was I supposed to do, Haymitch?" Effie burst out, her voice raised several octaves. "What would have been realistic, Haymitch? Attack him? Scream?"

"Everything. Anything. As long as it would have saved you from going into that damn maze with him," he growled right back.

Effie laughed a contemptuous laugh that was so out of character, so far removed from her normal personality, that it made her pause for a moment. "You call me deluded, say I don't understand the Capitol. But you advise me to do something like that about the simplest things? Alucard Sparrow may not be part of the elite, but he is still a powerful man with money and a wide network. He wanted to invest money in Twelve. I was in no position to say no."

"So you let him ... do these things just to get some money for the kids?!" Now Haymitch actually sounded stunned, as if he had any right to judge Effie.

Effie felt his words bring tears back to her eyes. "Don't even start! You were the one who ran to Laetitia Lowell to do exactly the same thing!"

Haymitch stared and stared, then finally lowered his eyes. "Just because I do something doesn't mean you should copy it, sweetheart."

"But they need the money," Effie whispered, pressing her eyelids together. The salt stuck to her cheeks. "They need the money and nobody wants to give us any because they're all obsessed with the Career Districts."

"And that will never change," Haymitch said, slowly moving toward her. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and squeezed them. "Not tomorrow, not next year, not even in ten years. We will always be the underdogs. We will always lose this Game. That's exactly why you have to stop ... poisoning yourself like that. It will kill you, and it will do you no good in the end."

"I can't believe this." Effie shook her head, as if trying to block out his words before they could penetrate her mind. "We have to do something."

Haymitch sighed and wrapped his arms around her middle. Effie leaned into his touch, fairly certain he could feel her beating heart through his suit. "Promise me you'll never let someone do that to you again."

"Haymitch, you know I can't promise that. If it happens, it happens."

"You allowed it to happen. That's different." Haymitch pulled his head back to look into her eyes. Insistently. He actually wanted Effie to promise him. "You're not helping anyone with that behavior. Not the kids and especially not yourself. If you enjoyed it, that would be different, but sweetheart, you look like you're about to puke again."

"It doesn't matter what I feel. It's about the job. It's about our tributes."

"No, Effie. Get that thinking out of your head right now or I swear I'll ruin any future sponsorship deal you get." Harsh annoyance had crept back into his speech. "As soon as you start getting involved in this bullshit, I'm out. Out for good. Then you can find your sponsors on your own. Understood?"

Effie squinted her eyes, grimacing as a wave of her own anger threatened to engulf her. Deep down, she knew Haymitch was right; that this path was devoid of ethics and morals, and she would be undone if this one time had already thrown her off course. Yet hardly anything had happened.

Effie released the oxygen from her lungs and pressed her forehead against his chest. "Understood."

"Good." His arms immediately tightened around her body. "Now you can help me get rid of that bastard's blood. And then we'll get a drink. I think we can both use one."

-

Happy New Year!

This chapter is about a scene that was hinted at in Figure It Out (the sequel to this fanfic). In it, Effie is harassed by a sponsor, but is able to cleverly extricate herself from the situation because she has learned over the years how to deal with such men. Haymitch then suggests that Effie was not always able to extricate herself from such situations so easily. And that is exactly what we saw in this chapter. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Look at my Pinterest to see how I imagine Effie's dress.

Skyllen