Despite his inebriation, Linden's eyes are hard and sharp; it's likely that he knows better than everyone is giving him credit for what he's doing, but that doesn't change the fact that it's desperately foolish. Linden's behaved in a suicidally audacious manner at various points in the past, but that's what the Capitol as a whole gets for setting him down a track highly conducive to breeding addiction and then letting him near an open bar.

Deafening feedback interrupts the final word of Linden's verse, and he staggers as the older and better-conditioned District 2 Mentor drags him away from the podium. "Over? I've just begun, and everyone was so insistent..." he protests mildly, wavering in an attempt to dig in a bony heel in a misguided and largely failed attempt to steady himself. Then an idea flashes across his pale face, and he's planting the microphone firmly into Torin's chest. "A duet!" he announces, a manic quality to his alcohol-fueled, temporary delight. "If you want in on this, you have to help me finish the song."