The six year old girl sat in her tree house, pouring tea for a group of her friends.

"Would you like sugar, Mr Fluffington?" She asked the teddy bear sitting at the end of the table.

"Why yes I would, thank you," she made the bear gruffly reply.

And what about you, Mr Abernathy? Would you like sugar?"

Her eyes landed on the poster on the wall. A sixteen year old boy was standing, his arms crossed, and his expression serious. The writing underneath proclaimed that this boy was Haymitch Abernathy, one of the four tributes from District Twelve in the Quarter Quell Hunger Games.

She had had this poster for a week, ever since the reaping of the tributes, and she loved it. She had fallen for the boy's beautiful eyes, and his rebellious attitude. He was dark, rough, and handsome; and something about him pulled her in.

Today was the day that the tributes were lifted into the arena, and the entire Capitol was on edge. This little girl was rooting for Haymitch, she just knew that he was going to win.

Before she could make the poster answer her, she heard her mother call.

"Effie! Come on, sweetheart, the Games are starting soon!"

The posh, Capitol accent carried over the garden and made Effie jump up.

She walked over to the poster of Haymitch and pressed her face against his.

"I know you'll win. I just know it. Good luck, Haymitch." She muttered, before climbing down from her tree house and running inside, her pink dress and blonde hair fluttering in the wind.

Later

As there were twice as many tributes as usual, the Games took longer than usual. School was cancelled in the Capitol so everyone could watch.

It was seven o'clock in the morning. Effie sat in front of the TV, waiting for a glimpse of Haymitch. He was hiding in undergrowth and about to come out and look for water.

She saw his face, and her heart jumped. Even with dirt and blood on his face, he still looked handsome. She watched as he crawled out from the undergrowth and started walking. He reached a clearing, and was suddenly surrounded by three Career members.

"Oh, no!" Effie squealed. The Careers were brutal. Could Haymitch survive this?

He started fighting them, killing two in quick succession, but the other Career has him by the throat and looks ready to slit his neck.

"Haymitch!" Effie calls, tears spilling down her cheeks.

But suddenly, something hits the Career's neck, and he drops dead.

Both Effie and Haymitch look wildly for the miracle that spared Haymitch's life.

A small, blonde girl steps from behind a tree. Effie recognises her as Maysilee Donner, one of the female tributes from Twelve.

"We'd live longer with the two of us." She says, her voice shaky.

"Guess you just proved that." He rubs his neck, and says, "Allies?"

She nods, and they go on together.

Gratitude, relief and... jealousy wash through Effie. She wanted to be the one to save his life. And now, he owed Maysilee his life, and was allied with her. For a brief moment, she wanted to trade places with Maysilee. She had his life in her hands, and he didn't even know that Effie existed. But she took it back immediately, preferring her beautiful home in the Capitol to a slum in the Districts.

"He lived?" Effie's father walked in.

"Yes. The girl from his district saved him!" She beamed up at her father.

"Damn. Now we'll still have to hear you going on about him. Oh, Haymitch! He's so amazing! I want to marry him!" He imitates her squeaky voice.

"Dad!" Effie throws a pillow at him. "I do not talk like that!"

"Whatever, sweetheart!" Her father grins at her, loving the expression on her face.

70th Hunger Games

"Whatever, sweetheart." Haymitch snarled as he slammed the door to his room, leaving Effie fuming outside the door.

She sighed loudly. How could it have come to this? She wished that she had known that Haymitch was such a pig before she signed up to be District Twelve's escort. Twenty years on, at the 70th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy was the world's biggest jerk.

She had known him properly for three weeks now, and the thirty-six year old victor didn't exactly impress her so far. He was an alcoholic. An abusive one at that.

He blamed everything that happened in the Games on her and "her kind".

When their boy tribute, Karl, died in the bloodbath, Haymitch went on a drunken rage at her about how "her kind" was killing all these kids, and about how she was a monster. She had left him and gone to her room, only to throw herself on her bed and cry.

Just now, she had been imploring him to go into the city and seek out some sponsors for their female tribute, Ileana, who was dying from a stab wound. She would be dead soon if Haymitch didn't do something. But as usual, he ignored her request and slammed the door in her face.

Who knew that that beautiful, strong, rebellious boy could turn out to be so awful? She had been so excited when she was assigned to District Twelve, and now all she wanted to do was be promoted. If she had a victor, maybe she would be promoted to a Career district.

Deciding to be bolder with Haymitch, she knocks on the door.

"Go away." She heard him growl on the other side of the door.

"Haymitch, if you just got some help for her, she could win!" She shouted.

"She's not going to win anyway, so what's the point?"

"There's every point! You call me a monster, yet you're denying your tribute the chance to live! Who's the monster now?" She was getting heated, anger at the repulsive man building up inside her.

Suddenly, the door shot open, and Haymitch stormed out, grabbing her and pushing her against the wall. Effie screamed at the impact and the shock.

"Listen to me. She's not going to live, okay? She will die, whether I give her help or not!"

"At least let her live a bit longer then!" Effie spat.

"And what good will that do? Give her more time to wish she was at home? Give her another way to die painfully? No, we leave her. She doesn't have any sponsors anyway." He muttered the last bit.

"Then get her some. I can't believe you! You go on about how the Capitol is slaughtering children, and you're not even helping your kids. No wonder you haven't had a victor yet!"

Haymitch was about to go back to his room, but Effie's outburst angered him. He pushed her back against the wall, his eyes dark and menacing.

"News flash, sweetheart. The Capitol is slaughtering kids, and no matter what I do, she'll die! They all died! All of them! All because of you and your stupid home! You all think you're so much better than us because you live here, but you're wrong. You're the oppressors, you're the slave drivers! You sit here in your luxury homes in your designer clothes, and you don't even think about all the people starving around you! All the children who live in fear of being chosen, and all the parents who are scared that their children will die of starvation or in the Games! It is you, you, Effie, who are the real monsters."

Effie is startled by his speech, but anger is still burning through her.

"Then show us how to stop, Haymitch! Show us the way it should be done." She snarls.

He didn't expect her to retaliate, and stops, taking in what she has said.

He wants to tell her that he wants to. He wants to tell her that he wants to save Ileana. But he can't. She has no sponsors, and it's probably too late for her now.

Suddenly, they hear the sound of the cannon on the TV in the other room, and they both know that it's for Ileana.

Haymitch sighs.

"There. She's at peace now."

And with that, he pushes away from Effie and goes back to his room, leaving Effie stunned.

Tears fall down her cheeks at the loss of her first tributes, and the loss of the vision that she had of the man she cared about.

Going back to watch the Games on television, Effie sobs into her lap as Ileana's body is raised from the arena, and wishes that she could have done something different by them both. Her and Karl. And by Haymitch too.

Effie knew then that being an escort was more than the publicity. It was watching kids that you had become attached to die, and dealing with a regretful mentor who hated everything Capitol.

She just hoped that somehow, she could fix that.