The following is a message delivered by the Panem Postal Service.

Gale—

Well, you lucky bastard. Even after all the nights you spend drinking in the bar, and the hours you probably spent throwing it all up afterwards, you still manage to find someone who actually wants to be with you. Dear Gale, engaged to be married.

Congratulations. I didn't see that one coming.

And from what I hear, you're actually nice to her. When did you ever buy ME flowers in the two weeks we were together? Yeah. I thought so. A for effort.

In case you care, right now I'm on a boat, heading east. No idea where the hell we're going to end up. I just know that by the time it's over, I'm going to be so seasick that I'll barf all over every dumb idiot on this godforsaken boat. It's just been a grand old time. Of course, on the other end of this ocean is probably a land with dancing midgets and rainbows, or at least another dictator-controlled land where I'll be sold into slavery and forced into something more demented than the Hunger Games.

Either way, a free Panem has not been what I'd expected, and I needed to get away. Because what's the fun in living if you don't have to fight for it? You used to agree with me, until you got yourself a fiancée. Jesus, I only left for a year!

And you had to go get happy on me. Out of everyone in this world, you have disappointed me the worst.

I hope you can understand my sarcasm in this letter, or my jokes for that matter. Which, by the way, that last paragraph sort of was. Maybe your love-befuddled mind doesn't pick up snide jokes anymore, and that would be such a shame. This is what love does to people.

I guess you've figured out I'm not coming back for your precious wedding. I'm not coming back for anything, even with a promise of dictators and death threats. Mary likes to send me sappy letters that tell me how amazing you are. Don't tell her that they made my seasickness worse, or that I skip the really awful paragraphs.

Drink something strong for me next time you're at the bar. They took all the alcohol from me on the boat after I got drunk and projectile-vomited all over the top deck, after singing some pirate songs.

Have a happy lovey-dovey skippy-dee-do wedding. Can't tell you when I'll waste my time writing sappy letters to you again.

Jo

A/N Hey, ho. I won't shame myself by counting how long it's been since I last updated. It's been ages, I know, but people have lives, even weenies like me. *shock* But I'm still back with another chapter, this story's still been incubating in the back of my head, hanging around with all the useless crap I learned in History.

I love writing from the POV of Johanna, just because she's such a sweetie. Not really. It's because she's not particularly emotionally attached, so you don't have to be too in touch with deep feelings to write from her mind.

Reviews would be lovely, even commas. Semicolons, colons, asterisks, apostrophes, quotations marks (right ones only, though), exclamation points. Or you know, actual words. It's all good.

Squishy hugs to you if you're reading this after how long it's taken me to update. Seriously. I'll fly to your house in the dead of night and give you a hug.