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“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Effie’s voice boomed through the large room on the twelfth floor. She stood there, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together.
Everyone fell silent at her reaction. The only audible sound at that moment came from the clatter of her heels on the floor as she walked, with quick, heavy steps, to the bar on that floor.
Cinna took a deep breath and leaned back in her armchair, exchanging a quick glance with Portia. Haymitch, for his part, seemed thoughtful. He hadn’t yet given his answer, given Effie’s immediate reaction to the surprising proposal she’d received.
“You haven’t said anything, Haymitch,” Portia said, as if treading on eggshells. She glanced at him sideways, hoping to hear a different interpretation from her colleague.
Haymitch was leaning against the sofa, his elbow resting on the arm of the furniture, his fingers slowly running through his short beard. He seemed to ponder what he had just heard, leaving the other two in suspense. It was long enough for Effie to return, still stunned, with a glass of drink in her hand. Their eyes met. He went from her to the glass, which he would venture to say was wine, moving his lips in a small, proud smile. But she wasn't about to return any smile at that moment.
"Are you going to say something?" she lowered her voice, but she was still furious. Portia looked from one to the other, while Cinna avoided eye contact.
The tension in that room was almost palpable.
"To be honest…" he began to say. His gaze was focused on a distant point. "The idea isn't bad."
His nonchalant tone seemed to infuriate Effie even more. She glared at him, her mouth agape. The hand holding the glass seemed ready to throw it to the ground at any moment.
“We’re not going to… walk around pretending we’re a couple, Haymitch,” Effie said slowly.
The Games had started a few days ago, and by that point, Katniss and Peeta had survived longer than practically all the other tributes from District 12 who had been there over the years. They were hopeful and wanted to risk whatever it took to make it work this time.
The news that prompted this team meeting was that, this time, the Games would have two winners. Katniss was trying everything to find Peeta in the arena, and the narrative of the unlucky couple was gaining more and more traction with the audience.
“Effie, darling,” Cinna called. He was still sitting in one of the armchairs with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. He nodded toward the sofa in front of him, and she complied with his request, huffing. “The intention here isn’t to make you uncomfortable or create an awkward situation. The idea is to take advantage of their love story, whether it’s true or false, and mirror it here. We want to generate empathy among the sponsors.”
Effie frowned, still intrigued, but paying attention to every word Cinna said.
“But don’t you think their story is already enough?” she asked. “My impression is that they’ve already had quite an impact here.”
“I agree with that,” said Cinna, returning to his train of thought. “But don’t you think that you two,” he pointed to her and the mentor “wouldn’t bring more attention to District Twelve?”
Effie raised an eyebrow. Haymitch glanced at her sideways, trying to deduce what was going through her head.
“Get to the point,” she urged.
“Why not create a narrative about the Capitol girl and the District Twelve mentor who ended up falling in love amidst all this chaos?” she suggested. Effie kept grimacing, and Haymitch began to sink into the sofa. "Just like, right now, the Capitol audience is completely captivated by the two tributes from the Twelve."
A few moments of silence passed. Effie bit the inside of her cheek. Portia had a shy, expectant smile on her lips. Cinna had found a good story to tell amidst all this.
The idea of faking a relationship with Haymitch made her somewhat uncomfortable.
"Damn it," Effie cursed softly. "Your idea is really good."
Cinna smiled, satisfied. Haymitch seemed to have held his breath and was finally letting it out.
"I always have good ideas," Cinna concluded, standing up. "I'll leave the planning to you two, but I know you'll handle it easily. The sponsorship part is always up to you two anyway."
"Is that okay with you?" Effie asked, turning her head slightly to look at Haymitch.
He nodded in agreement, watching the TV intently. Katniss had found Peeta and they were in a cave, but he wasn't well. His temperature was rising, and she only had the remaining ointment Haymitch had sent earlier. But Peeta needed to eat.
"We need to send him food," he said, still staring at the TV. Effie and Portia were also watching, attentive to what was happening.
Haymitch looked at Effie.
"We need to go downstairs now," Haymitch said firmly, as he stood up abruptly from the sofa. Effie followed him automatically. The glass in her hand still had two fingers of wine before Haymitch took it and drank the rest, leaving an indignant Effie looking in his direction.
"Excuse me?" she protested. "I was going to drink the rest!"
Putting the glass down in the center, Haymitch gave her an amused look.
"We were drinking together before we went downstairs," he said. "Remember that in case anyone asks."
It was clear how easily he could annoy her and, at the same time, express good ideas with it.
Haymitch headed towards the elevator, leaving Effie and Portia speechless. Effie, for her part, had to regain her composure and follow him at a brisk pace, waving quickly to her colleague before disappearing from sight.
They had only a few hours to speak with the sponsors and get what Peeta needed. It wasn't necessary to be in the hall to know that the place was basically on fire all day long. Many were desperate to ask, while some others were willing to contribute, but obviously not to just anyone.
Portia shook her head, a small smile on her lips.
"He won't even need to act," she said to herself.
As someone who worked with them and observed the dynamics between the two closely, Portia had noticed, over time, how Haymitch referred to Effie. But the question was… did she know?
----
The sponsors' hall was sparsely populated, due to the number of tributes remaining in the arena. The other teams went from one sponsor to another and didn't seem to have much success.
The large space felt colder than usual. As she stepped out of the elevator, Effie felt her hairs stand on end and her stomach churn. Slightly intrigued, she figured it was just nervousness about the boys.
Noticing the shiver, Haymitch ran a hand along her forearm. He had offered her his arm as soon as they got out of the elevator, as they usually did. She turned her head and looked at him, a grateful smile on her lips that he returned instantly.
They entered the hall and immediately had most eyes on them. Effie looked around suspiciously.
"I think we really do have this year's favorites," she heard him whisper close to her ear. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and Effie hoped he wouldn't notice her reaction.
The sponsor who had helped send the ointment was at a table further away, but didn't hesitate to wave to them when he saw them. They both waved back, now heading towards three others who were chatting animatedly, looking at them.
Two men in emerald green suits and a woman in her orange dress and yellow wig, each with a glass of what looked like sparkling wine in their hand, seemed to be waiting for them.
The golden curtains of the hall gave the place a more elegant and, at the same time, cheerful air. Effie looked around, noticing some details that sometimes went unnoticed in the heat of the moment. Tables and chairs with red details, well arranged this year. The space to move around the hall was better distributed this time.
They reached the three sponsors in question and greeted them, receiving several compliments for the tributes' performance that year.
"You're doing an incredible job this year," said the woman, excitedly.
They smiled in thanks.
"It seems that luck decided to be on our side this time," said Effie, eliciting some laughter. She exchanged a quick, knowing glance with Haymitch and stroked his arm. The woman cast a quick, curious look, observing their movements.
Noticing that her action had been noticed, Effie moved the corner of her lip in a small, satisfied smile.
"I think I'll get something to drink," Effie continued, knowing full well that negotiating was Haymitch's forte and he needed to concentrate. "Honey, would you like some wine?" Her voice lowered slightly as she addressed him, but enough to still be heard by the others.
"Why don't you choose today?" he asked back softly, in the same tone.
Effie smiled again and brought her face close to his, sealing their lips quickly before excusing herself from the sponsors and walking away towards the bar. Her heart pounded, but she didn't look back. She needed to be subtle, and looking back expectantly might reveal their charade.
The bar was empty, except for two people in a corner who were apparently waiting for a drink they had ordered. Effie leaned against the counter, her arms resting on the marble. It wasn't long before a bartender, with a broad smile on his lips, attended to her.
"Two glasses of sweet wine, please," she asked. The man nodded, going to get the wine.
She wanted to look back and try to guess what was being said in that conversation with the sponsors. As much as she knew how Haymitch handled them, especially that year, she still felt worry rising in her stomach, afraid that anything could go wrong.
Perhaps it wasn't just worry. Effie pressed her lips together and tried to divert her thoughts.
"Effie Trinket!" a forcedly enthusiastic male voice sounded beside her. The man in the black suit with red details and the neatly trimmed beard wouldn't go unnoticed there.
Effie forced a smile back.
“Seneca,” she greeted him. He extended a hand, and reluctantly, Effie extended hers, watching him place a kiss on it. Lifting his face and looking at her expectantly, he received only a brief nod in response, watching her quickly withdraw her hand.
Seneca Crane was known to everyone as the mastermind behind the games in that edition, but to Effie… he was also known as one of the worst, perhaps the worst, dates she had ever had. For this reason, Effie always made a point of avoiding the subject.
“Did my eyes deceive me, or did I just see you and Haymitch…” he didn’t finish the question, nor did he need to. Effie looked in Haymitch’s direction, but he was still engrossed in conversation with the sponsors. Then she took a deep breath and faced the mastermind. “Are you two together?”
“Ah…” Effie stammered, looking once more in the mentor’s direction as if desperately seeking help. But she couldn't make any mistakes. Not there. "Yes, we are," she replied, regaining her composure.
Seneca moved the corner of his lips down, thoughtfully. He cast a long glance in Haymitch's direction, as if making sure he would remain distant, and took a step towards Effie, who instinctively took a step back.
"I don't know... I'm not very convinced about this thing between you two."
Effie laughed disdainfully.
"You don't need to be convinced of anything, Seneca," she retorted. "Besides, did you manage to leave with Three's escort? Or was it Seven's? I don't even remember anymore."
Seneca snorted. He couldn't stand being treated with mockery. The mastermind looked to the side and cleared his throat, returning to his posture.
The bartender reappeared, now with two glasses of wine, placing them on the counter towards Effie, who thanked him and positioned them to face away from Seneca.
"Seneca Crane!" Haymitch's voice sounded from behind her, and Effie immediately turned to see him. Her stomach seemed to churn when she saw him, and nothing about that feeling seemed to make sense at that moment.
Haymitch stopped right beside her, placing a hand on her waist.
"I don't know exactly what you came here for, but she's not going out with you," Haymitch continued. "Well… at least not again."
Effie gave him a light tap on the chest, making him laugh. Haymitch was the only one who knew about their failed date. It was the kind of thing they knew they could confide in each other about, and that it would never leave the conversation.
Taking the glasses from the counter, Haymitch handed one to Effie and raised his own in the air, mentioning a toast which she immediately returned. They toasted and drank a good portion of the wine. She stared at him intently, waiting for him to tell her about the conversation.
"We did it," he said softly. His face closer to hers, trying to make himself inaudible to the mastermind who was still nearby, leaning against the counter, his gaze fixed on the drinks displayed for them. But perhaps a little too close, to the point that her gaze wavered for a second.
Effie opened her mouth in great surprise.
"What?" she whispered, but wanted to shout. Haymitch smiled contentedly, nodding his head.
Seneca cleared his throat, drawing their attention.
"May I know the reason for the celebration?" he asked. Effie rolled her eyes impatiently, and Haymitch noticed. When their eyes met, he squinted, as if he'd just had an idea.
"Is he still bothering you, Effie?" Haymitch asked, glancing quickly at the mastermind before returning his attention to her. He set his glass down on the counter before placing a hand on her waist, which she was still trying to understand what he was planning to do.
Until that moment.
His free hand moved to her face, his fingers gliding delicately to her chin, making her close her eyes at the mere touch. Effie sighed when their lips met, but this time it was different. He lingered with a silent request for her to linger as well. Their lips brushed lightly once, twice, three times. She wrapped her arms around him, the glass still held in her hand. She didn't know if he was just startling Seneca or if he was still putting on a little final show for the sponsors. A third possibility crossed her mind, but she didn't want to think about it. Not at that moment.
A feeling of abandonment washed over Effie when he broke off the kiss. They were still close, and Effie had to control herself to avoid giving in to the impulse to kiss him again. Her reasonably swollen lips carried a tingling sensation, like a magnet trying to pull her back to him.
Regaining control, Effie cleared her throat, and they moved a little further apart, exchanging a quick glance before looking for Seneca, finally noticing him in the distance, which made them laugh.
"Shall we go back?" he asked. She agreed, even though a small part of her still wanted to stay there a little longer and perhaps answer some questions that had begun swirling in her head. Perhaps she was confusing things and thinking she had gone too far, but she tried to push those thoughts away, reminding herself that it had been a plan they had devised earlier, and everything that had happened so far had been nothing more than a successful plan.
Effie pressed her lips together and nodded. He offered her his hand, and she took it, walking together to the elevator.
It was a long, silent walk, despite other people around them casting curious glances as they passed. As the elevator ascended, Effie prayed that the food wouldn't take long to reach the boys in the arena. Her heel tapped repeatedly on the floor from her restlessness. She needed reassurance that what they had done had worked.
They didn't exchange a word until they reached the twelfth floor, but several times she noticed the other people who came and went, giving them curious glances. But it was only when they reached their destination that they realized they were still holding hands, quickly letting go.
The doors opened and they entered the twelfth floor, where Cinna and Portia were watching TV. Katniss and Peeta were still in the cave.
"Look who's here!" said Cinna, greeting them. "I heard your little romance has been causing quite a stir."
"What do you mean?" Effie asked, crossing her arms and stopping beside the sofa.
"You know… gossip travels fast."
Effie frowned and looked at Haymitch, who also seemed intrigued.
"You came down?"
Portia let out a short laugh, giving herself away.
“If it’s any consolation, we only saw the little kiss,” Portia said. “But… they told us about your big kiss when we were in the elevator.”
Effie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“You were spying on us?”
“Not exactly…” he tried to explain, but gave up. “Maybe.”
Effie rolled her eyes and huffed. She put her hands on her hips and took two steps in the opposite direction, turning her back to them for a moment.
“Can you at least tell us if it worked?” Haymitch asked this time. “Is Peeta going to get the food?”
Cinna grimaced.
“So… that. It was announced that there will be a banquet at the Cornucopia tomorrow morning with everything everyone needs,” she explained. “Katniss wants to go.”
It was Haymitch’s turn to grimace. Effie turned around, worried.
“You annoyed Seneca,” Cinna added, with a movement of his lips that resembled a smile. “I liked that.”
Haymitch and Effie remained worried. They didn't understand where Cinna was going with this.
“Look…” he stood up from the sofa. “Katniss and Peeta are already the favorites this year. The audience has embraced them and, thankfully, the sponsors have too. It's true that they need luck on their side there, but luck also comes from the sponsors' pockets. And that second kind of luck… they've already got it.”
“So your idea…” Effie didn't finish. She left it hanging, waiting for Cinna to confirm.
A thousand questions swirled in her head. She wanted Cinna to answer them, and she was sure he had the answer to all of them.
But it was mainly that third question that came to her mind the moment Haymitch kissed her in front of Seneca, and it was haunting her.
“I think you already know,” Cinna replied. “Oh, guys… you two disagree here, flirt there, but you’re always together. And don’t tell me you’re always like this because it’s part of your job. I know that’s not the case.”
Effie stared at the floor. She couldn’t hold Cinna’s gaze at that moment. There was a great deal of confusion in her head, but despite everything, she knew deep down that he was telling the truth. She ran her fingers through her forehead, tracing a horizontal line back and forth, trying to maintain her patience.
“I think you should go to sleep,” she said finally. “I’ll watch TV tonight.” She nodded and cast one last glance at Haymitch before leaving the room, heading towards her bedroom. Perhaps it wasn’t the reaction her colleagues expected, which is why no one even spoke after she said it.
She entered her room, leaning her back against the door after closing it. She took a deep breath and went to the bathroom to prepare a bath. As the bathtub filled with water, Effie slowly undressed, resting her wig on the countertop by the sink, making a mental note to put it back in the room as soon as she left. But she didn't want to think about that now. Stepping into the tub, she closed her eyes and leaned back, forcing herself to have a few minutes of relaxation after everything that had happened that day.
Effie laughed as she remembered the image of Seneca leaving the hall after the… the kiss. She sighed, thinking specifically about that moment. She could still feel the texture of his lips when she closed her eyes. She moistened her lips with her tongue as if that would take her back to that exact instant. She crossed her legs underwater, feeling her body suddenly heat up.
Oh, damn it!, she thought.
When she emerged from the bathroom in her silk pajamas, a button-down shirt and baby pink pants, her head felt lighter, not just because of the absence of her wig. She felt lighter. She knew she needed to have a conversation with Haymitch about what had happened, but when would that be?
The TV in the room was on, and no tribute had made any kind of movement at that hour of the night. Apparently, everyone was saving their energy to face the cornucopia the following morning.
Effie thought about going to the kitchen or the bar to get something to drink. Perhaps she needed that company for the night. She went to the door and opened it.
But she wasn't the only one.
On the other side of the hallway, as if he had planned it or heard her thoughts, which Effie desperately wished wasn't the case, Haymitch was also leaving his room. But unlike all the confusion that had been in her head minutes before, she felt relieved to see him. She smiled and he waved back, a bottle of wine in his hand. The same wine she had been drinking earlier, before they went downstairs. She smiled even wider and took a step forward, closing the door after seeing him point upwards, signaling the rooftop.
They walked in silence, trying to avoid any noise that might wake their colleagues. Effie wore slippers that were almost inaudible when they touched the cold floor of that place. They passed through the dark floor until they climbed the stairs and finally reached the garden.
Effie rarely went up to that place. All the hustle and bustle of the games made her forget that they had that beautiful courtesy at their disposal whenever they wanted. But on the few occasions she'd been there, she'd always marveled at the view, and this time was no different. Even at night it was still beautiful.
The rooftop offered a panoramic view of the Capitol, bathed in lights. That place seemed never to sleep, especially during the Hunger Games.
"Sometimes I forget we have all this up here," Effie said, still looking around.
Haymitch was already a little further ahead, turning to lean against the railing. The bottle was still in his hands. He pulled the cork, making a low sound.
"Want to do the honors?" he asked.
Effie smiled and walked towards him, stopping two steps away and receiving the bottle.
"You didn't even get a glass?"
"I don't need to follow etiquette rules up here," he retorted, frowning. "And let's finish this bottle. Wine bottles need to be emptied the same day they're opened."
"Really? Who made that rule?” Effie asked suspiciously.
“I did.”
She laughed and, without breaking eye contact, brought the mouth of the cold bottle to her lips, tilting it until she felt the slightly sweet liquid fill her mouth. She took two small sips before pulling the bottle away and licking her lips. Haymitch watched her, attentive to her movements, then took the bottle and took a large gulp of wine.
“So… Seneca Crane…” Haymitch began, and Effie rolled her eyes before leaning against the railing beside him. She took the bottle again and drank some more. “I thought he’d stopped chasing you.”
“I thought so too,” said Effie, followed by a brief, sad laugh. “I guess the rumor spread too fast, and he wanted to see it for himself.”
The bottle was already less than half full of wine, and they continued to take turns drinking. It was usually a little cooler up there, but at that moment she didn't feel cold. In fact, she was far from feeling it, especially with the way she noticed Haymitch looking at her.
"Well, if you need to scare him away again…" Haymitch leaned away from the railing, moving in front of her, and Effie felt her stomach drop. Haymitch took a last gulp from the bottle and offered it to Effie, who drank the rest, hoping that the remaining wine would give her the courage she needed.
"And how are you going to do that this time?" she asked, hearing her voice sound thinner than usual. Haymitch bent down slightly and took the empty bottle from her hand, setting it on the ground.
"The same way we did today," he replied, moving a little closer. "Only better."
Effie bit her lip. He was terribly close. Her mouth watered, longing for the small space between them to become even smaller.
Her hands found his, and their fingers intertwined. She pulled him a little closer, holding back so as not to lose her concentration.
"So you want to kiss me just to push Seneca away?" Effie asked. Her voice lowered with each word.
Haymitch laughed and released her hands, immediately placing his on her waist, encircling her in a hug that left them practically glued together. Effie, in turn, slid her fingers up his arms until they reached his shoulders.
Heat rose in her throat almost suffocatingly. She alternated her gaze between those blue eyes and his mouth, noticing him doing the same.
"No," he murmured, touching their foreheads, feeling the tip of his nose brush against hers. "Of course not."
“And what are your real intentions, mentor?” she inquired. Their lips were so close they almost touched.
Haymitch turned his face slightly, bringing his lips to her ear. Effie felt a shiver run down her spine and prayed he hadn’t noticed.
“To be honest… tonight, they're not the best,” he whispered. He tightened his embrace slightly and sealed his lips to her jaw before finally closing the space between them.
The kiss was immediately reciprocated, and both sighed at the contact, a sign of mutual need. A need satisfied after years of hesitant flirting, pointless arguments, and attempts discarded before even being considered.
Effie tightened her grip on his arms around her neck, as if it were possible to hold him even closer than he already was. He smelled of wine, and she knew she wasn’t much different. But that wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite. It was a reminder that, this time, they had the little courage they lacked. A small, eager spark to ignite a vast, dormant flame.
Haymitch leaned Effie back against the railing again, and she moaned against his lips as she felt the touch of his hands under the fabric of her pajama shirt. She shivered again when she felt him move a hand up to her breast, lifting her shirt with the movement, leaving a part of her skin exposed. Their tongues battled frantically, exploring the space between their mouths, savoring the desire they both shared.
They pulled away slightly, but still kept their foreheads touching. Their breaths, though uneven, seemed synchronized. It was the only sound they were concerned with hearing at that moment. She brought her hands to his face, running her thumb through his short beard, feeling the rough, recently trimmed hairs.
Her hearing seemed to slowly return to pick up the sounds she could hear from up there, even if few due to the height. A few cars honked in the distance, as if there was a possibility of traffic jams at this time of night. Effie wondered what time it might be, but she couldn't remember. She shouldn't worry so much about that at that moment. But the Games were still going on.
"We need to go back," Effie whispered, as if she still didn't have enough strength to find her voice.
Haymitch smiled and sealed his lips to hers before pulling away.
"I know," he said, sliding his hands to find hers again.
"Want to watch the games with me?" Effie suggested, her voice softer than usual.
"Do you think I should?"
"I think you will anyway."
They laughed together, but were interrupted by seemingly celebratory shouts coming from some floor below them. They both bent out as if it were possible to identify where that noise had come from, but it was impossible. But cheers coming from another floor couldn't be good for them… could they?
Haymitch gripped Effie's hand tightly and guided her out of the penthouse with quick steps. They hurried down the stairs, their hearts racing, hoping the worst hadn't happened to the boys in the arena.
When they reached the twelfth-floor room, they stopped abruptly. Cinna and Portia were standing near the sofa. They seemed to have interrupted some conversation and were now watching them, looking suspicious.
"Did something happen to them?" Effie was the first to ask. Cinna gave a short laugh of relief.
"No, no," he replied. "Peeta still has a fever. He had a nightmare and woke up, so Katniss took care of him."
"We heard cheers," said Haymitch.
"They gave each other a little kiss," Portia explained with an amused smile. "I think they have fans from other teams."
Effie breathed a sigh of relief. They were still alive, at least.
"And you?" Cinna asked, pulling them from their thoughts. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing upstairs?"
"Oh…" Effie stammered. "We were talking."
"It doesn't sound like you were just talking," Portia said.
Haymitch cleared his throat and took Effie's hand again.
"Let's not go into details," he said, heading towards her room. "It was your idea."
They went to the room and closed the door, leaving Cinna and Portia standing in the living room, still processing what had happened. They exchanged a knowing look before Cinna finally said:
"You'd better turn up the volume on your TV.”