the ballad of desolation

4. SHE AIN'T COMIN' BACK! (JUDAH POV)

SLUMPED AGAINST A STOOL IN THE HOB STARING AT THE WHISKEY IN MY HAND, I NOTICE A GUY DROP NEXT TO ME. I take a glance at the guy. He's blond, stocky, and has an incredibly noticeable bruise on his jaw.

"Who'd ya fight?" I mumble, going through a list of guys in my head who could've fought him.

"Huh?" He questions, giving me a brief look before trying to hunt down a bartender.

"I asked who you fought," I say, taking a swig of the alcohol, its trace burning my throat.

"Um...no one," he grumbles out quickly, gripping the bar, desperate for something, wanting to get the attention of someone working. I sigh and push the remains of my glass over to him.

"Someone's in a rush, no?"

"I just need to cool off. That's all," he breathes, scrubbing his face with his hands before taking a sip and swallowing back a gag. "How are you drinkin' this, man?" He coughs, pushing the glass back over to me.

"I'm too distracted to notice anymore," I huff, a laugh building up in my throat. His grimace slowly fades to a hint of a grin at my laugh.

"I feel like I've seen you before," he tells me, resting his elbows on the bar.

"Probably have. I sing with a band down here."

"Ah. My brothers must've taken me here once. Didn't one of the girls get reaped today?"

"Yeah. Jo," I grouse, my hand tensing against the glass of the whiskey.

"Oh," he says. "I'm really sorry. She's pretty great. My dad gave her bread once. Only time I talked with her. She was lovely from what I remember." He gives me a sympathetic look.

In the slightly tense silence, we continue sharing the drink and then get another and another. Before I know it, we're stumbling back to the house and lounging in the field, backs against the large willow tree. His name is Peeta, he's the baker's son - well one of his other two sons. I'd never met a guy like him. I've never met anyone like him, actually.

He's a talented painter, he even drew me! Sure, he was drunk, but even then it looked good. He got the scar on my cheek just right, the weird contrast between curls and straight hair on my head, and he got my nose to look exactly like the real thing.

"Jude! Jo's on the TV!" Eileen shouts, prancing around me and Peeta, loud enough to  get me to snap awake.

"Jo...? What?" I grumble, slowly sitting up, and shaking Peeta's shoulder.

"Jo's on the TV! C'mon, c'mon!" She squeals, trying to yank me up. I grunt and stand up myself, steadying my dizzy self against the tree, Peeta slowly rises, grabbing my shoulder.

"You all right?"

"Yup," I groan, stretching my arms a little before Eileen's small hands grip mine and his, dragging us to the house.

"There they are! District Twelve's Songbird and Coal Miner!" Caesar Flickerman exclaims, the cameras panning to a very shimmery Jo and a similar-dressed boy. Their names settle at the bottom of the screen along with photos of them. Jolene Iris & Isaac Halloran it says. Jo's hair is slicked back with pretty black makeup and a matching outfit, showing more than what she usually wears. Her smile is just as bright as I remember, though.

"She looks shiny," Suki points out, her body draped over the side of the couch, her back against Eurydice's shoulder.

"Capitolites like their colors," Peeta comments.

"Who the hell are you?" Suki asks, snapping her head to him.

"That's Peeta. Met 'em at the Hob last night," I say, my eyes stuck on the screen as I sit on the wooden floor at Eurydice's feet.

"Hi," he chokes out nervously.

"Hello," she drawls out slowly, her accent making the single word sound more cheerful than I imagine she wanted it. I take a quick look at her, her face isn't exactly excited or happy like usual. Must be losing Jo.

Her daddy was a big drinker and had quite the temper. You could hear his yelling down the street. Her mama slept around with a few guys while her daddy worked and eventually stopped coming around the house just when she turned nine.

Like most kids in Twelve, we all have pretty sad and pathetic lives. Nothing shiny or fun, just working and dying. We manage enough, but you can never ignore the past

Thirteen was when you'd drop out of school and start working. Sixteen was the equivalent of turning eighteen for us folks. Happened to me, happened to Jo, and happened to Eurydice, too. We all make it our job to keep Eileen from having to do that. She'll have to work at some point that's for damn sure, but she'll have people to call family at the end of the day. Something we aren't too familiar with.

"Be nice," I warn.

"All I did was say hi!" She protests.

"You made it sound condescending-"

"That's a big word, sure you know what that means?" She grumbles, a hint of a smirk that doesn't quite reach her eyes flip up on her lips. Jokes? Seriously?

"Oh, be quiet, Suki Ebony," I hiss.

She taps her fingers against the couch, her face twitches before she speaks. "Y'know I was just trying to lighten the m-"

"So you think now would be a good time?!" I snap, bolting up.

She stands right up in front of me. "God forbid I speak here, too!"

"Answer the question, Suki!"

She scowls, "Maybe! She's on TV showing herself off to fight for her life! She's sixteen and practically showin' her tits off to the world!" She shouts, pointing a finger in my face.

"She can't control that-!" I try to get a word in, but she cuts me off.

"You ran off and drank all night like a coward! Can't control your feelings so you drink! She ain't comin' back! She ain't comin' back! Don't block us out, Judah! I have already lived through it once, do not! Don't you dare!" Her eyes are wet, her pointed finger shaking. I've never heard her yell like that before. She ain't comin' back!

I stand still for a second, my feet never leaving the floor, even if I dared to try. Sure, her odds couldn't be in her favor whatsoever, but I'd kill Haymitch if she didn't make it back.

The first thing I notice is Suki slipping her boots on and her scavenging bag and taking Eileen with her. The second thing I notice is Peeta covering his ears and Eurydice shaking her foot resting above her knee. The last thing I notice is President Snow's pale face on the TV screen. I shut the television off and turned to the two people left.

"Peeta, I think you oughta head home," I tell him softly.

He exhales and unclasps his hands from his ears. "Yeah."

I lead him out the door and stop him for a moment. "I'm sorry you saw that. She's not like that usually it's just..."

"Jo?"

"Yeah," I breathe. After receiving a small nod, he speaks one last time.

"She's a fighter, that one. I'm sure she'll make it home." And just as soon as he showed up, he was gone.