Hello, and welcome. Please take a seat, and make yourself comfortable. Before we begin, a few words from me, the slightly crazy author.

I do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the songs that may be mentioned in this piece. It is for entertainment purposes only. I do not make any money from it, merely the enjoyment of writing.

I am trying to get out of the habit of leaving little notes at the beginning and end of every chapter, unless it is absolutely necessary. So I shall take the time now to ask that if you enjoyed the chapter, or hated it, please leave a review. I am no means professional, and I don't have a beta so every mistake it mine. I learn as I write.

That being said: I have taken the time to relook at the earlier chapters, as I took a break from writing and when I went back I wanted to cut my eyes out. So those of you who read the first version, I have added a few things, but nothing that changes the story in anyway. Call it house keeping.

Thank you to the readers for your support, and I hope you enjoy the tale within.

Missy Tea

A loud crash came from behind the large wooden doors, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. Effie whipped around in her chair to stare at the door in surprise. There were a few moments of silence, the kind of silence that was forbidding and dangerous. The calm before the storm. Suddenly there was an explosion of obscene swearing. There were words that Effie had not heard in a very long time, all being shouted in a gruff and uncultured male voice. Whoever spoke was extremely eloquent in both English and the language of the gutter. One of her many talents was eavesdropping, a skill that most people would be ashamed to admit to, but Effie considered quite the gift. She had used it on many occasions and it had helped her career more than once. She had come fully prepared to have to strain her ears to get the slightest hint as to what her new client might need from her. However, everything was being shouted so loudly that Effie was sure she'd be able to hear even if she was three floors down. The words "child" "escort" and "interfering bitch" were just some of the words that filtered through the door, along with a great many expletives. Effie sighed and smoothed down her tight, bright pink skirt. She had worn it specially, remembering that her new Client and her new boss were both colourless people, and she would need a bit of colour if they were to attract anyone's attention. Now she couldn't help but wonder if she really wanted to be bringing attention to herself at all.

She was currently seated on a grey couch that could only be described as angular, in a small waiting room. The room to not seem to be welcoming in any way. It was painted a clinical white, with dark grey furniture and had the occasional silver fixture. There were no paintings, not flowers on the table. Not even a plastic plant, something that Effie herself couldn't stand. The seat of the couch was hard and unforgiving on her back, and she resisted the urge to wiggle around. Even the receptionist that Effie had given her name to earlier was dull. Effie had tried making conversation with her to pass the time, only to be met with a blank stare and a vague offer of coffee which Effie had politely declined.

Today was supposed to be a big day for Effie. After all, it was not every day that one got to meet someone whom she had admired from her Highschool days. You would never had said so looking at her today, dressed in her pink power suit, her hair pulled up into a perfect chignon, and her makeup done with an expert hand, but Effie Trinket had once been quite the rebel. She was sure that her parents must have despaired when she had become quite taken with the baddest boy of them all. His screaming lyrics, harsh rock and roll beat and gruff voice was enough to send warnings to any parent who caught their daughter listening to his music, and his reputation in the tabloids did nothing to dispute that.

His name was Haymitch Abernathy, and with his stylishly long dark hair, searching grey eyes and bad boy smirk, he was the driving force behind many teenage rebellions. But more importantly the critics seemed to love him. He was different they claimed, new and exciting, and with his first album going platinum it seemed like Haymitch Abernathy was here to stay. Things just seemed to get better and better for Haymitch, with tours being extended to keep his screaming fans happy, new albums on the way, modelling contracts, it seemed that the bad boy could do no wrong. But then the headlines changed, Haymitch was on a downward spiral, with alcohol getting a firm grip on him, a stunt went wrong in a music video leaving him with an ugly scar and to top it all his fiancé, Hollywood's current it girl, was caught having an affair and left him immediately after. Haymitch announced his retirement a few weeks later, and that was the last anyone had ever heard of him. Effie's Christmas stocking had felt very light the following year, when there was no new album from him to put on her wish list.

It took a few months, but eventually Effie suddenly grew up. She stopped smoking, ditched the leather look and had discovered that her music taste leaned more to the soft jazz, classical side of the spectrum. These days the music she used to listen to would set her teeth on edge, eventually giving her a splitting headache. Many years on she was now a sophisticated business woman, who was sought out in her field as she was one of the best in the business. It seemed on that she was finally meeting the man she had once idolized.

Effie was there because the owner of the record label 'District 13' had begged her to come. There were better paying options on the table, but once Effie had heard who it was for she had been unable to resist. She had accepted the offer immediately and had flown in specially for this meeting. If all went well, she was there to ensure that Haymitch Abernathy's first album in sixteen years was a success. The company had put a lot of money into this, but at the last moment Haymitch had backed out, saying that he had changed his mind about coming out of retirement. Unfortunately for him, contracts had already been signed and recording had begun. After a short legal battle, Haymitch had agreed to release this album, providing he was let off doing the next two that he had signed on to do. They were now set to release "The Quarter Quell" in three short months, and Effie was being brought on to market it as only she knew how. A lot of money was resting on this album, and Effie suspected she was there to control Haymitch to a certain extent as well.

The wooden doors opened with a bang, jerking Effie from her thoughts. She jumped and turned to find a tall woman framed in the doorway. The woman's name was Alma Coin. She was thin, with an angular face, and dead straight grey hair that Effie longed to attack with a curling iron and some colour. She was dressed in a black slack suit, that did nothing to show off her figure, and she wore no make-up. The only colour that could be spotted on her person where her finger nails, which were painted a dark red.

This was not the first time that had met, being in the business they were in they had met on numerous occasions. When Effie had begun, Alma was already at her heights and was the name on everyone's lips. However, Effie had never considered Alma the sort of person that she wanted to call a friend, so despite knowing each other for many years, they did not know each other very well at all.

"You can come in now." Alma Coin said by way of greeting, the anger in her voice barely concealed. Effie stood up and picked up her bag from between her feet.

"Are you sure?" Effie asked, pausing for a moment and glancing at the doors with raised eyebrows. She had been fully expecting to be told to come back tomorrow after Haymitch had had a chance to calm down. If possible, Alma Coin's face grew harder and she nodded.

"Haymitch likes throwing a temper tantrum occasionally." She said, "Unfortunately for him he's signed a contract and his threats are therefore, null and void." She gave Effie a look that clearly said that she was not in the mood to argue, ignoring the muttering that came from inside the office. Effie took a deep breath before swallowing and stepping inside.

The office was no differently decorated to the waiting room outside, except for a few signed photographs of well-known musicians, and inexplicably a foosball table shoved into the one corner. There were two chairs in front of the large desk, and seated in one was Haymitch Abernathy himself, boots propped up on the elaborately carved desk in front of him, and a crystal glass of something that looked suspiciously like whiskey in his hand. He smirked as she walked through the door, his eyes dropping to her feet before lingering for a few moments on her chest, and eventually dragging themselves up to meet her eyes.

"Well well, you must be Coin's new puppet." He said, in a patronizing tone, removing his boots from the desk but making no move to stand up, "sent to make sure that poor, misunderstood, Haymitch behaves himself."

He too had changed from his teenage years. His face had always been strong but the lines that now mapped the corners of his eyes made his seem wise as well. His hair was no longer the almost black that it had been but was rather a dirty blonde that clearly came out of a bottle, and he had about three days' worth of stubble on his chin. Ruggedly handsome was the kind way to describe him. Let himself go, and in need of a good scrub, but still somehow attractive was the less kind version.

"Effie Trinket." She said, stepping forward smoothly and offering her hand for him to shake "and I'm not here to babysit you. I'm here to make sure you're successful."

His eyes narrowed in response, before that old smirk appeared on his lips. He took another swig from his glass before answering.

"But sweetheart, I thought I already was."

"You were." She corrected, dropping her hand and taking a seat across from him without waiting to be invited "But you've aged, and a fifteen-year break certainly didn't help. No one knows if you still have the magic touch with a guitar like you once had."

"Feisty, aren't you?" he asked, "Don't you worry your pretty head about it, Princess, I still have it." He leant forward, putting his glass down on the table. She immediately reached across the table and picked up the glass, sliding a blank piece of paper underneath it, ignoring the way his eyes followed her movements.

"That remains to be seen." She answered primly. Haymitch growled low in his throat and Alma Coin stepped in.

"Effie and you will be sharing the apartment on the top floor." She said sternly, taking the seat across from the table from them. She somehow managed to look even more imposing than she did when she was standing, and even Effie had to resist the urge to cower away from her. It didn't seem to bother Haymitch, he merely watched her with obvious dislike. "So, you had better learn to put your claws away now."

"What?!" Both Effie and Haymitch exclaimed, jumping up from their seats and staring at Coin with almost identical expressions of horror. To an outsider it would have been almost comical, the way they jumped away from both Coin and each other as though it had been announced that one of them carried a horrible disease.

"You didn't tell me that!" Effie exclaimed, her voice higher than usual. Granted, Coin had told her that her accommodation would be taken care of while she was here, but never in her all her career had she been asked to share with the star she was currently promoting.

"Why do we have to share? This building must have more than one apartment." Haymitch added suspiciously.

"Of course, it does." Coin said, her cold gaze switching between them "but we're undergoing a massive building make-over at the moment, so half of them are out of order, and I don't trust you, Haymitch, in a hotel room."

Effie was about to point out that she was more than happy to stay in a hotel room and would be the model guest as she was when Coin cut her off. "I also think that its better this way. We're already behind schedule, thanks to someone refusing to come in and do what he's paid to do. Chances are there are going to be a lot of late nights and early mornings, and we just can't afford to have any more delays. As soon as the recording is done, and the launch and tours are mostly planned, you two can feel free to move to where ever you like."

"But-"Haymitch said, clearly outraged, but Coin held her hand up to stop him.

"No. Haymitch, you have already made a mockery of this company with your temper tantrums." Her voice cold and unforgiving "You will do this, and you will have that album ready on time. If necessary, you will stay in this building, twenty-four hours a day for the next three months or until I see fit to release you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Coin didn't wait for an answer, choosing instead to stand, make her way over to the heavy wooden doors, and leave, letting them bang closed behind her. It took a very special person to be able to leave her own office, and still scare the people she had left behind into doing exactly what she had told them. Effie stared after her, her face a mixture of awe and intimidation, before turning to face Haymitch, who now had his glass back in his hand, and a scowl on his face.

"Well Princess" he said in a humourless voice, before downing the rest of his drink, and following the lead of Alma Coin to the door. "Welcome to the fucked-up dictatorship that is District Thirteen."