The Miner's Wife

Chapter 7: The careers

It's time to for yet another trip to the Capitol. I usually refer to these trips as "working holidays" when I talk about them. If I talk about them. Haymitch is the only one who knows why I go to the Capitol, except to mentor during the Hunger Games. I suppose everyone else in 12 thinks I'm there for the parties.

I'm sitting in Haymitch's kitchen, which looks filthy to me now that my own kitchen is spotless. I've brought him some bread, but I hadn't expected him to sob because of it. Embarrassed at this unusual emotional outburst, I locate some tissue paper that looks like a rat might have peed on it, but I give it to him anyway. He blows his nose loudly.

"You're worrying me, Haymitch. Since when do you cry?"

"When was the last time you baked?"

I sit back, stunned. I haven't even thought about it myself. I shrug. "I don't know." I decide it's best to change the subject. "I'm leaving in two days."

"Who else is going to be there?"

"Finnick. I just talked to him yesterday. He's been in the Capitol for three weeks already."

"Cashmere?"

I nod. "And Gloss."

Haymitch wrinkles his nose. I know what he's thinking. Cashmere and Gloss are the only victor siblings in the history of the Hunger Games, and they are both stunning. As a result, they are usually offered as a package. In addition to the usual prostitution business, they have regular shows, where they don't entertain customers physically. All the Capitol pigs do is watch brother and sister fuck. It's basically a live porn movie with interactive elements, as it's possible to request certain positions or actions along the way.

I will never, ever understand the twisted Capitol minds.

"Oh, I don't know," I say, watching Haymitch empty yet another glass. I wonder how I'm going to get through this trip without drinking. Or without drugs. Maybe I can drink and do drugs in the Capitol, and be sober when I'm here? "Cashmere says she kind of prefers it to fucking strangers. She says at least Gloss respects her."

"Is she any good?"

"You're a disgusting old pig, Haymitch. "

"Is she any good?" he repeats.

I roll my eyes. Haymitch knows very well that I've had more than a few appointments that involved Cashmere. He also knows that Cashmere has spent time in my bed without anyone from the Capitol being involved. She can't help me ward off my nightmares, nor am I of any help with hers, but we provide each other with relief and something that passes for comfort when we are awake. We have, on and off, for years. We're not a couple, and we never will be. We are too damaged, both by the Hunger Games and what came after. But she has become a good friend, and I trust her as much as a victor could trust someone. "Of course she is, Haymitch. She's been on the Capitol's payroll for, what, 20 years? She knows every trick in the book, and then some."

"I bet she does. She's seriously hot."

"Jealous, Haymitch?" I ask with a smile. I rarely hear him talk about women.

He guffaws, but doesn't answer my question. Instead, he changes the subject. "Who else? Any of the new kids?"

I sigh. These new, young victors. Every year, I see how they change - from relative innocence, considering what they have done to win the Hunger Games, via desperation, to resignation. It doesn't get any easier. Every year, it's just as hard to watch them transform.

"Diamond." The most recent victor, a beautiful girl from 1. Too beautiful.

Haymitch snorts. "Their names just keep getting more ridiculous. Someone in 1 should get shot for coming up with names like that."