Haymitch is out with the geese again.

You barely ever step into the Districts—much too grim for your Capitol-born tastes—but things have changed since the war. Since the rebellion.

The Capitol isn't much anymore. People try to pick up the pieces here and there, try to start up galas and parties like how they used to be, but it doesn't help. How do you even revive a capital city built by a dictator?

So now, whenever you're not styling Capitol socialites here and there, you come visit your three victors. Katniss and Peeta, happily married for real this time, lives a quiet life by the meadows with their children.

And Haymitch?

You've seen it all. Back during the Second Quarter Quell, when he was playing the rascal for the Capitol cameras and you were the young stylist sent to dress him up for your final exams. When he made it out alive, scars and all, and you stuck by his side while he was forced to smile and wave for the audience. When bottles littered his kitchen floor as he sobs out for Lenore Dove in his sleep.

When year after year, the two of you watched tribute after tribute die in the Games as mentor and escort.

Now this is all that's left of him—a tired man taking care of geese how his lover used to. His liver's dying because of his addiction, he already told you, and the rebellion is over. There's no use for him anymore, he says. All that's left is to count down the days in District 12 until his body gives up.

You hear him grumble as his flock nips at his trousers. Geese mate for life, they say. Maybe he thinks of him and Lenore that way—clinging onto her ghost still, even after twenty-odd years.

"Yeah, yeah. Shoo, bastards." Haymitch doesn't even notice you as he feeds his geese.

He never noticed your love for him all these years either.