Playing Games

Chapter Three Haymitch

In the morning I walk to the dining car for breakfast. Everyone else is already there. As soon as I sit down a plate piled high with food is placed in front of me. I dig in.

As I'm eating I notice Haymitch. Eyes red and hungover already pouring liquor into his cup. I feel my fists clench and I'm furious out of nowhere. It hits me that Haymitch is the reason district twelves tributes never win. District twelve rarely gets sponsors like the other districts. The rich people who back tributes expect to deal with someone cleaner and soberer than Haymitch.

"So your supposed to give us advice." I say to Haymitch.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." Says Haymitch then bursts out laughing.

I exchange a look with peeta before I remember I'm having nothing to do with him.

For the first time I see a hardness in Peetas eyes. "That's very funny." he says and shatters haymitches glass of alcohol, "only not to us" he finishes.

Considering this for a moment Haymitch leans back and punches peeta in the jaw. He reaches for the bottle and I drive my knife into the table between his hand and the bottle I brace myself for the worst but instead he sits back and looks at us.

"Well, what's this? did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" says Haymitch with a small smile.

Haymitch circles us mumbling to himself seeming satisfied. "Alright, I will make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly as I say."

"Fine" peeta says.

"So help us," I say and start asking him questions about the arena.

Haymitch holds up his hand cutting me off. "One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we will be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist."

"But- " I begin.

"No buts. Don't resist." Haymitch takes the bottle of liquor and leaves the car.

As we pull into the Capitol peeta and I watch through the window. Peeta starts waving trying to win over the crowd. I realize peeta is making a plan. He is already fighting hard to stay alive.

All I can think about when I look out the window is that I already hate this place and these colorful people.