"I don't care if being sober is good for me." Haymitch says, slamming his fist on the table. "You don't know what it's like. You've been pampered by the capitol's privileges since birth."

You know it's just a part of his withdrawal, the rules in district thirteen aren't to any of your liking. No alcohol for him, no outfits for you. Yet, he doesn't seem to realize how hurtful his words are.

You want to help, but it's true. You don't know what the games are like. You have been spoiled.