Effie had been nervously pulling on her own clothes, feeling awkward and insecure as she waited for District 12’s only living victor, Haymitch. For what she knew, he was one for drinking, and she couldn’t help but being nervous at the perspective of working with such an unstable person. She simply couldn’t handle any type of mess, even if it was, as she assumed, an emotional one like Abernathy. She didn’t blame him for drowning his own memories in alcohol, yet couldn’t help but think it was such a waste. He would in fact look presentable if he wasn’t stumbling on his own feet most of the time.
It was past eleven when he finally arrived, which, considering their meeting was scheduled to 9 am, was outrageously late. She was about to offer him a smile when he gazed at her, eyebrow raised in despise, and inquired “What the hell is wrong with your clothes?”. She had spent literally an hour that morning, trying to choose the right outfit, and decided for green. Judging by the look on the man’s face, it was clearly a mistake. “I…” she tried to answer but, for what must have been the very first time in her life, was speechless. Then Haymitch’s expression broke into a laugh, and she realized he was making fun of her. How opprobrious! ”You’d look way better without them, sweetheart” he added as walked straight through her, and Effie patiently waited for him to be long gone before letting herself blush and giggle. District 12 might not be so bad after all.