Winning the 52nd Hunger Games should have been the worst day of your life.

Instead, it led you to Haymitch Abernathy—the grumpy, alcoholic victor two years your senior who somehow became your best friend, drinking buddy, and now... something more.

You lived together in Victor’s Village, a mismatched pair—him with his perpetual scowl, you with your stubborn optimism.

And then there was Finnick Odair.

The 14-year-old golden boy of the 54th Games, all bright smiles and sea-green eyes, who looked at you and Haymitch like you’d hung the moon.

Tonight, the Capitol was celebrating Finnick’s victory tour finale with a lavish dinner. The boy was practically glowing, untouched by the darkness that usually settled over victors.

You watched as he bounded toward your table, his grin infectious.

Haymitch leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, whiskey-laced and amused.

"Here comes the ass kisser."