Behind the Mask

As I feared, I'm the first to sit in the dining room, alert and wide awake, sipping a leisurely coffee while watching the sun rise over the Capitol buildings. It relaxes me to look out the window and into ordinary everyday life. It distracts me. It keeps me from thinking about last night. Yesterday I got the accessories for the boys and I'll give them to them right away. We are a team.

I turn and see Haymitch enter the room with Peeta in tow. Katniss isn't with them. For some reason I'm not too surprised, she doesn't like following orders. The two wish me good morning and get something to eat at the buffet. As they join me, I look excitedly into their faces.

"What's going on?" Peeta asks immediately, expectantly.

I rummage in my pocket and hand each of them a flat, dark blue box. Lips tight, I watch them both open the box. Peeta's eyes shine. He takes out the gold necklace and gives me a big smile. "Thank you, Effie," he says gratefully. "It's perfect. Could you tie it on me?"

I smile at him with satisfaction and get up to close the chain around his neck. "I liked doing that," I reply, still smiling. "After all, we're a team!"

Peeta's reaction is exactly what I was hoping for. Now I look curiously at Haymitch, who is cradling the bracelet a bit uncertainly in his hand. After Peeta's reaction, I'm prepared for anything. But in the end, he nods and thanks me. He puts the bracelet around his arm and looks at it from all sides. His face is red from the alcohol and I sigh inwardly. Why is it so hard to give up liquor?

"What about Katniss?" I ask and they both shrug their shoulders at almost the same time.

"I don't think she's feeling too well," Peeta replies cautiously, biting into his bun. It's not the bread from the Capitol, it's from one of the districts, so I'm guessing it's from 12.

After we exchange a few more words, Haymitch suddenly looks me up and down. "You don't want to meet the other mentors like that, do you?"

Haymitch and I are about to meet with the mentors and escorts from the other districts to get to know each other a little better. This could be beneficial should Katniss and Peeta form an alliance with other victors in the arena. Trust plays a big part in that.

I look down at myself, confused and a little offended. His words were definitely not a compliment, I could hear that. I put a lot of effort into my outfit. A cute pink cocktail dress with lots of ruffles, a pink wig, which is also decorated with a single rose, and neon pink high heels which reach to my knees. To match this, I brightened my complexion by at least five shades, applied pink lipstick and painted my nails to match. So more than usual. After all, it's a special occasion.

"What's wrong with that?" I hiss back, glaring at him angrily.

Haymitch starts laughing and points at me. "Sweetheart, we mostly meet with mentors from other districts," he says, amused. "They don't like chic Capitol fashion and especially not Capitols acting like they're the most important people in the world. The the-more-the-better number doesn't work with them. It just disgusts them because they give a shit about the Capitol as much as I do." Now he grins and I almost lose consciousness.

"Do you realize how long it took me to look like this?!" I run my hands down my body to let him know what I mean.

"I have no idea," he admits, "but are you aware that less can sometimes be more?" I can tell that he's tired of discussing my outfits with me. Peeta just sits silently next to us and slurps his hot chocolate in amusement. I give him a warning look, but his smirk only widens.

I sit back down with a sigh and only now realize that I've stood up in anger. "Maybe for you and in the other districts, but not in the Capitol!"

"Then be the first to start! Instead of always thinking about yourself and what you look like, you could hold back a little more, adjust and make a better impression, which means Peeta and Katniss might have a better chance!" He slaps his palm on the table in irritation. I automatically flinch. Peeta's hot chocolate spills over the rim of the cup and spills across the table. I protectively pull my documents to me. His last word. I get up in silence, wish Peeta good luck with training, and retreat to my room.

There I look at myself in the mirror. It's tall enough to see me in full stature. Is Haymitch right? I try to imagine how it must seem to someone from the districts if I burst into the room like that. I'm sure they'd be surprised, because they don't see something like this every day. Unnatural? The layers of make-up beam at me. No woman in the districts would ever hide her natural complexion under loads of white powder. In any case, I have never seen such a woman among the ranks of the District 12 youth. Maybe they just can't afford makeup?

I come to the grisly conclusion that Haymitch is right. It's weird to only think something like that, but is it okay to say it out loud or wear something else because of it? It should be out of question, really, it's Haymitch after all and he has no sense for fashion. But it's about Katniss and Peeta, not me. It's about their lives. So I take off my make-up and wig. But I definitely can't go out like that. No one but my family has ever seen me like this. My mother would probably murder me if she found out.

In the end I put on a simple, black, floor-length dress, powder myself in my skin tone and apply blush and mascara . Now I realize that I don't dare go out without a wig. I sigh and look at myself in the mirror and finally decide on a simple platinum blonde wig without any jewelry. The artificial hair is braided into a long pretty braid that falls behind my neck.

Then I go out. Haymitch is already waiting for me. He looks my outfit up and down. Then he finally nods. "Don't put like that, sweetheart. You look a lot better without all that stuff anyway." He knows how much effort it took me to present myself to him like that.

As the elevator begins to move, Haymitch shares Katniss and Peeta's first impressions of the other victors with me. "They don't want to form an alliance," he says. "That could be a big disadvantage because the others already know each other as mentors from previous years."

"You can hardly force them to do it. Give them the opportunity to get acquainted with them, maybe they'll change their minds", I object and earn an appreciative look from him. Haymitch seems visibly surprised by my words. Wise words. As if I only ever say stupid things. But I don't say that out loud.

Arriving on the ground floor, Haymitch immediately leads me to Chaff and Seeder. Shouldn't the two actually be at training? However, Haymitch doesn't seem surprised to see them. Seeder nods at me and Chaff just grins his usual smile, knowing it'll drive me nuts. I return his smile exaggeratedly.

Chaff hands Haymitch a red drink and laughs at my reaction. I roll my eyes, something I would never do otherwise, but we've known each other long enough and he knows I'm not like the other escorts. He knows I'm really trying. All Haymitch does is give Chaff a look I can't read. Chaff just starts laughing harder.

Their glasses are empty far too quickly and while the two get their next drink, I try to strike up a conversation with Seeder. She's the only one in the group that I don't know personally yet. "Why aren't you at training? Not that it's mandatory, but it sure is useful." When I talk to people from the districts, I don't bother using the accent. There's a hint of genuine curiosity in my voice.

Seeder starts to laugh and dimples appear at the corners of her mouth along with some wrinkles. She must have been a really pretty woman once before her age caught up with her. "We don't care much about it," she admits without mockery in her voice. "With all the young victors, it'd be a miracle if one of us made it out alive. We know these will be our final hours and we try to enjoy them whenever possible."

Suddenly I feel sorry for her. How awful it must be to know that you don't have many days to live. I don't think I could handle that pressure. And now that she answered so honestly, I don't know how to respond. The Capitol hasn't prepared me for this over the years. Not even all the dead.

So I change the subject. "What happened to the families of Thresh and little Rue?" I vaguely remember what Peeta's and Katniss's words during Victory Tour could possibly have done.

"They're alive," Seeder says, smiling, but I hear the surprise in her voice that I —a Capitol woman who draws children into the Hunger Games— show an interest in the families of those affected. And she seems to be positive about me, I can tell by the way she stops looking at me like I'm from another planet.

I smile back uncertainly. At that moment, Haymitch and Chaff come back. They are in high spirits and joking with each other as they always do. But when Haymitch sees my smile, he looks like he's blown away. "Did we miss something?" he asks.

I just shake my head, unable to reply. However, Seeder has an answer. She is probably an open person by nature. "I was just convincing myself that she's not one of those Capitol bitches", she bluntly says. "You're really lucky, Haymitch. Our escort greeted us with tears of joy and how great the idea of this year's anniversary was." She points to me. "She doesn't seem to be one of those."

I can feel my cheeks color and I give Seeder a grateful smile before dropping my eyes to the floor in embarrassment. Still, I can feel Haymitch's eyes on me. It must surprise him to hear his friend talk about me like that.

"Leave poor Flora out of this," Chaff jokes. "She has nothing to do all year except wait for the Games. I'm sure Trinket has other hobbies." He winks at me. "Wouldn't you like to share with us?"

Without looking at Haymitch, I raise my head and eye Chaff. He's playing a game, I can see that , but he's been doing it for years. Whenever he sees me, he has something inappropriate on his tongue. He probably doesn't realize that I can play this game too. "This and that, but you know I'm a very busy woman," I reply, giving him a sweet smile. "However, my real interest lies in architecture."

Chaff laughs and bobs his head. Haymitch is quiet as I have seldom seen him. "I always knew there was more to you." His fingers wave in front of my face. He's definitely drunk. "Odd interest for an escort, don't you think?" He doesn't talk to anyone in particular. For a moment I think he's trying to fool me like he always does. He exchanges a look with Haymitch.

"My father's an architect. He's a very well-known man," I say, more sharply than intended. "He planned the new part of the presidential palace," I add, not knowing why I even brought this topic to light. Silence.

"I heard that you have to be very intelligent for a job like this," Seeder suddenly says, as if realizing something.

I have to laugh out loud at that. I try to keep my mother out of my mind and her comment that she might be making about my behavior. But I can't help myself now that I understand Seeder's comment. "There's nothing wrong with rational thinking," I blurt out, trying to sound as amused as possible. Because the truth is, I want to prove something to Haymitch. "When planning a building, if you miscalculate the angle of the roof by one degree, it can actually collapse before the entire facade is in place!"

Haymitch's behavior is rather unusual, his expression slowly turning negative, and he exchanges a look with Chaff, who is suddenly a little too calm. I talk to Chaff and Seeder for a while, we talk about this and that. Trivial things, nothing serious. I notice Chaff unsuccessfully trying to engage his friend in the conversation. Even though Haymitch is only one meter away from me, he seems incredibly far away. Unobtrusively, when he thinks I'm not noticing, he gives me sideways looks. I guess he just can't get his head around that I'm more than fake faces and weird behaviors. Funny, considering he knows the truth behind my facade better than most people. As if he had erased those memories from his mind.

Then two hands suddenly block my view and I'm snapped out of my thoughts. My heart skips a beat and I jump in shock. "Euphemia Trinket," Octavius jokes, definitely aping my mother's voice. If he saw the startled look that crossed my face for a split second, he doesn't show it. But he probably hasn't anyway.

"Octavius," my voice trills, sounding completely wrong somehow. "How are you doing?" We went to college together and spent a lot of time together back then. In dark hours he always had a kind word for me. But we were children. Teenagers. We both went our own ways and I'm not even sure I've found mine yet. The Capitol makes it so difficult. I'm still trying to tell the truth from the lies. I don't think the Capitol is bad. There are only people who make it look bad.

"You won't believe it, it's my first day here, I want to get to know the mentor, but she has nothing better to do than sit down at the bar and drink herself into a coma!" He sounds so upset that I automatically take a step towards him to calm him down. Before I can even reply, the thunderstorm continues. "Those manners are terrible, I- how have you endured that all these years? A friend told me they wanted to transfer you to Five but you refused? Isn't it time for a fresh start? After all, you now have your victors. And that's two in number!" How quickly he can change the subject.

I can hear myself laugh from afar. It sounds distorted and unnatural. "I'd never be able to part with Twelve, Octavius! Outer districts are trendy right now! I wouldn't leave my job to some sweet, new girl who wouldn't do it half as good as me," I reply, clutching my stomach as if what he just said was completely absurd.

"But Effie, you could get any district, you'd just have to ask Plutarch. You are the face in Panem, they'd give you any district, you could have them all," he says, sighing dreamily. He's really imaginative because if I were the face in the Capitol, it wouldn't have been over two months since my last photoshoot. Look at your sister, Euphemia. She always manages to do it.

I look to Haymitch for help and make him understand that he should finally wake up from his rigidity. Did Octavius's comment about his alcoholic mentor hurt him? He doesn't move an inch. Too much information about me in one day. I have to stop this as soon as possible. So I give Octavius my best smile and say, "Oh, Octavius, you're flattering me! But you've always done that. Let's talk about you. After all, we hardly had time for it yesterday and we haven't seen each other for so long!"

It really seems like he's about to bite because he's smiling. But then he opens his mouth and babbles on like crazy. "After college, I tried to get hired by your father's company, but they still seem to be waiting for you. Of course, the luck was never in my favor!" He laughs and squeezes my shoulder in a friendly manner and then I know what is to come. "Remember when I gave you fifty Dollars to copy your exams? You've always been tough."

Automatically, I have to laugh and this time it's real. A memory flashes in my mind's eye. A small part of my childhood that I really enjoyed, even if it annoyed my parents tremendously. While my sister was always her dream child, I did things that my mother still throws at me to this day.

"Yes," I say, still grinning. "You almost ruined my career, you idiot! After they caught us they informed my mother and I almost got expelled from the course for defending you! Since that day, the teacher didn't give me the attention she gave me before." I look a little offended.

Octavius laughs, I laugh and for a moment the world around us is forgotten. Then I vaguely remember Haymitch watching us at this theater all the time. I momentarily fall back into my rigid state before excusing myself to turn to my companions. I bite my lip because I automatically switched to our old slang. I never really use swearwords in front of Haymitch. It's bad manners.

"And I thought you Capitol kids were good as sheep," Chaff exclaims, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "She's a sly dog, Haymitch, keep an eye on her." Then he gives us another wink and disappears with Seeder in tow.

The awkward silence returns. "Sorry," I say sincerely. "I didn't want to let myself go like that."

"What are you apologizing for? You just live your life. The only one who needs to apologize is me," Haymitch remarks in a resigned, almost affected voice. His words surprise me so much that I look up in astonishment. "I've been trying to convince myself that you're just another fucking Capitol puppet for far too long. Well ... you're not. You have little in common with these other people."

I feel a warm feeling rise in the pit of my stomach and at the same time have to think of a bygone time. It's not the first time Haymitch has addressed such words to me, just that it's been about ten years since then. He probably doesn't know that those words mean far more to me than they do to him. Out of his mouth they are a big compliment and the friendliest in a long time. Unable to say anything, I give him a smile and immediately wonder what has changed between us since the last Games. I have the feeling that we are falling back into old patterns. It's not the first parallel to our first Games together that I notice. Considering our personal outcome at the end of the 64th Hunger Games, I'm not sure I should approve.

"Euphemia?" I can hear the skepticism in Haymitch's voice, but he seems to find the name amusing.

I press my lips together to hold back the stream of words I would otherwise have bombarded him with. "Only my mother calls me that." Together we go to the bar and order a drink. I no longer have problems with having a drink with him now and then. Haymitch really tries not to overdo it.

After a long silence and many side glances, he finally says what was on the tip of his tongue the whole time. "Architecture? College? We've known each other for so long and I still didn't know anything about it." Again there's that bitter, dissatisfied tone in his voice that I can't interpret.

Maybe because you never asked. Maybe because you've never actually cared, a voice in my head whispers. "Disappointed?" I ask instead, turning the glass back and forth in my hand.

"Not really, I'm sick of everyone around me being so obsessed with clothes."

"I am obsessed with clothes." Now Haymitch does offer me a thin grin. That's so out of character for him.

"You seem to enjoy it," he says, and, noticing my nod, continues. "Then why don't you do it full-time?"

"Because you can hardly change anything with buildings," it comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. I backtrack quickly. "I'm just saying, how many buildings are there that have made history? Through the Games-" The rest of the sentence gets stuck in my throat. With the Games, you can change history, I was about to say, but Haymitch gives me such a withering look that I immediately know I've said too much. When he narrows his eyes, I suddenly feel very hot. Even if I meant something completely different.

"I think," he drawls. "We shouldn't be continuing this conversation here."

I swallow, lift my head and give him a calm and cool look, then follow him. Of course I'm aware that I shouldn't have said something like that, but it's too late for that now anyway. I stagger slightly and step into the elevator behind him and as the door closes he stares at me like a hawk.

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