hunted • haymitch abernathy

ten

ten; MAKE THEM ANGRY

Ember was freezing in the dress that Octavia had pleaded her into because while the style was something that she most definitely was not comfortable in it, sponsors were essential for her survival.

The dress was a long sleeve on one shoulder that was snug until it stopped at her calf, with only a small slit that allowed her thigh to be shown off and ensured she wouldn't fall when attempting to walk properly, a large portion of the torso from beneath her chest to her hip had been cut out in a diamond shape, revealing an incredible amount of skin but it was held together nicely with a matching belt sewn into the sparkling red dress.

Ember would be more than annoyed if she walked across a stage wearing a tight revealing dress, in blistering six-inch heels and didn't get at least a dozen sponsors.

While she watched as excited audience members enter through the doors at the back of the building and rushed for chairs, Ember caught sight of Haymitch who wore a Cheshire grin on his face as he stopped beside her, his dark eyes trailing down her outfit, "I thought you said your new stylist was good?"

"She is." Ember huffed, glaring at the older man who was still grinning, "We felt this outfit would bring about more sponsors."

"Ah, and your eleven won't?" Haymitch responded, "What did you do to get that?"

"Sang a song." She shrugged uncaringly before she rose an eyebrow in question, "What did your two do to warrant a twelve?"

When he sighed tiredly, she looked away from the audience at the man, "Don't even get me started, Effie's been ranting about it all da...oh, hell."

"What?" She questioned before she was following his eye line to the elevator that Katniss and Peeta had exited with Effie and two stylists and she laughed quietly, the sound more disbelieving than amused when she noticed each were dressed to the nines in outfits where had they not all been about to be interviewed by Caesar Flickerman, Ember would have assumed they were about to be wed.

It was silent as Katniss, dressed in the finest of white Capitol silks and pearls, and Peeta, in a classic tuxedo, walked towards them with uncomfortable looks due to their stares until Finnick broke the stillness, "I can't believe Cinna put in you in that thing."

"He didn't have a choice." Katniss snapped, quite defensively, "President Snow made him."

Cashmere tossed her curls over her shoulder and before she grabbed her hand to pull him toward the stage, she spits, "Well, you look ridiculous."

Haymitch and Ember share a look as victors follow after the brother and sister, looks of anger and sympathy on most faces as they pass the couple, a few patting them on the back as they went and as the old friends make their way towards them, Haymitch lowered his voice as he spoke, "I want to get you out of the arena alive, come see me later."

As Johanna fixed the Katniss' necklace and told her to make him pay for it, Ember glanced up at her old friend with furrowed eyebrows as she wondered what he was planning that would get her out of the arena because she knew, no matter how close they were and how long they had known one another, he cared about Katniss and Peeta and they were his top priority.

The rebellion, a voice whispered in her mind, sounding suspiciously like her older brother, ever the instigator for anything defiant, especially after the murder of their sister in the bombing of the District 8 factories in response to the District's anger and defiance over the 74th and the victory tour.

As the screen beside them showed Cashmere blubbering that she couldn't stop crying at the thought of the citizens of the Capitol dealing with the loss of many of their favourite victors all at once, Ember schooled her features into one of suggestion and raised her voice so that victors, stylists, and anyone around them could hear her words, "You know where my room is, Haymitch."