“When I ask Plutarch about his absence, he just shakes his head and says, "He couldnt face it.""Haymitch? Not able to face something? Wanted a day off, more likely," I say."I think his actual words were 'I couldn't face it without a bottle,'" says Plutarch.”

“Katniss?" Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words. "How about that kiss?”

“I thought he wanted it, anyway," I say. "Not like this," Haymitch says. "He wanted it to be real.”

“It's impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much more worse than death."Cut," I hear Cressida say quietly."What's wrong with her?" Plutarch says under his breath."She's figured out how Snow's using Peeta," says Finnick.There's something like a collective sigh of regret from that semicircle of people spread out before me. Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a entails, I am broken.Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he's there, holding me and patting my back. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart." He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob."I can't do this anymore," I say."I know," he says.”

“Why don't I just pretend I'm on camera, Plutarch?" I say."Yes! Perfect. One is always much braver with an audience," he says. "Look at the courage Peeta just displayed!"It's all I can do not to slap him.”

“Here's some advice. Stay alive," says Haymitch, and then bursts out laughing. I exchange a look with Peeta before I remember that I'm having nothing more to do with him. I'm surprised to see the hardness in his eyes. He generally seems so mild. 'That's very funny,' says Peeta. Suddenly, he lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's hand. It shatters on the floor, sending the bloodred liquid running toward the back of the train. 'Only not to us.'Haymitch considers this a moment, then punches Peeta in the jaw, knocking him from his chair. When he turns back to reach for the spirits, I drive my knife into the table between his hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers. I brace myself to deflect his hit, but it doesn't come. Instead, he sits back and squints at us.'Well, what's this?' says Haymitch. 'Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?”

“Of course you are. The tributes were necessary to the Games, too. Until they weren't," I say. "And then we were very disposable - right, Plutarch?”