A/N: Hey guys! I'm coming at you with a brand new story. I've had this idea sitting in the back of my mind for some time now, and I'm excited to officially be able to post it. I hope everyone like this idea, and if you do, stick around. You're about to be in for a wile ride.
"Have you seen this horse shit?" Gale asks, slamming down the magazine onto the table in front of me. My eyes widen, bile threatening to rise in my throat.
"What the fuck?" I say, grabbing it to look at it closer. As my eyes skim the page, I almost don't believe what I'm reading.
"Up and coming band 'The Muse' makes record breaking sales this week, passing 'The New Romantics' on the charts. Sources say 'The Muse's' new single "Run", sang by their astounding lead, Peeta Mellark, went platinum today, sending their new single to number 1 on "Today's Hit Music Radio"."
I stop reading, tossing the magazine onto the floor.
"That's rubbish." I hear Gale mutter from across the room. "Total bloody rubbish." His English accent thickens the angrier he gets. He runs his hands thoroughly through his hair, violently swinging them back down to his sides.
"It's bullshit," I say, still trying to fully process what I had just read. My head is pounding against my skull, and I drop my head into my hands.
"Who the hell do they think they are?"
"I don't know," I reply, running my hands angrily through my hair. I let out a frustrated sigh, not being able to wrap my mind around things completely. "They totally ripped us off."
And it's true. Their new single "Run" is almost exactly the same as one of our more popular songs "Find You" from our new album. "Not to mention they dropped it out of nowhere," I say, shaking my head. It doesn't make sense.
How can they get away with this?
"Money." I scoff at Gales response. "It's fraud-"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I lift my head up, looking to where Gale is standing, staring straight at the TV. I almost don't believe my eyes. Peeta Mellark stand next to a female reporter who's chatting insistently into the microphone about their band's newest album. I tune myself out, that is, until I hear something that makes my head whirl.
"I'm here with none other than Peeta Mellark, lead singer of 'The Muse'." I listen as the reporter asks multiple questions about their recent success.
"Peeta, can you tell me more about your new tour?"
What?
I turn to Gale and I find him just as stunned as me. "Are you actually fucking kidding me right now?" I throw my hands up in the air, making a mock surrender. "There's no fucking way. No fucking way."
We just signed for a summer tour around the various cities across the United States.
"If I'm right, I think we will be joining "The New Romantics" for their tour as well. I've been told we will play back to back shows, starting in Los Angeles next weekend as we kick off our first tour of the summer." I stare at the television, speechless.
"You motherfucker." I can't help my vulgerness; I'm thoroughly pissed off.
"Are you seeing this?" I ask Gale. He's just standing there with his arms crossed.
"No." He says flatly. "No. We're not doing it. We're not." He starts shaking his head repeatedly, walking around to grip the back of the couch that I'm sitting on. I can feel him shaking from behind me. "Absolutely not." He says again, spitting at the tv.
"How is it that we didn't know about this?" I ask, turning and standing to face him. "How in the hell did we not know about this?"
"I don't know," is his only reply. His eyes are filled with so much anger that I almost think he might spontaneously combust. "Really, Katniss. Fuck if I know." I try to keep my anger subsided, turning my attention back to the television.
"Look at that smug bastard." I say, pointing to the television. "He's got every female reporter there swooning." I roll my eyes. Neither of us can even think of what to say next.
"Well, Peeta, I can tell that you are very excited to be along side 'The New Romantics'. It's only a matter of time before you all meet, hopefully you'll start off on a good note." The reporter, I believe her name is Effie Trinket, smiles widely as she talks to Peeta. "Yes, we are very excited." He smiles, and at that moment, I lose my composure. The way he smiles, the way he talks. It all makes my blood boil.
No fucking way.
"Gale. We can't." I finally say, turning to him. His eyes are closed and he's running his hands through his hair. "We can't let them do this. You know why they set this up." He just shakes his head, keeping it down before looking back at me.
"They're trying to intimidate us. Take our fans. Steal everything that we have ever worked so hard for." He says, slamming the remote onto the coffee table. "I won't let them ruin this for us."
"The hell you won't." I agree, shifting in my seat.
"I'm calling Haymitch." Gale bites bitterly, walking the length of the room while dialing the number to our manager.
"How in the hell- No…- What the fuck-" I only hear bits and pieces from the conversations, but from what I can understand, Haymitch didn't tell us because everything was scheduled so last minute that he hasn't had the chance. I call bullshit on the whole situation.
Gale continues pacing angrily back and forth while listening to Haymitch argue with him on the phone. I watch as he continuously runs his hand through his mussy hair, pulling slightly every now and again. His face flushes red, and the phone call is officially over. Gale stands there silent, staring at the wall behind me. I try to get his attention by standing and waving my hands in front of me.
"Well?" His eyes meet mine. "What happens now?"
"You should probably sit down for this," he explains, gesturing for me to sit back down beside him. "We're proceeding with the tour." I try to maintain my composure the best I can without completely losing my mind. "Haymitch said that we're moving forward with the tour, and that we need to be open minded and consider how good this could be for us. He told me that this tour could either make us, or break us, and that not going all together could ruin our career."
"Ruin our career, Gale? What's going to ruin our career is being ousted by those assholes! And I won't stand for it, I won't! I won't have my entire reputation thrown down the drain just so those fuckers can poke around and make us look like miserable fools for the entire tour. I won't do it." I'm out of breath by the time I've finished my rant, and the look on Gale's face tells me that he readily agrees with me.
"I know, Katniss, I know. Just…let's just do it, okay? I promise, we are going to make the most of this, just don't stress the small stuff. Let's just do what we do, and stick to it," he says, reaching over and lightly shaking my shoulder playfully. "Remember what we agreed on when we first started this whole thing? You said, 'let's just be ourselves and have fun.' Remember that?"
"Yeah, I remember." I snub him, sticking my nose up at him using my own words against me. I sigh in frustration, dropping my head into my hands. "I just can't believe that this is actually happening."
"Katniss, it's going to be alright," Gale mutters, gingerly rubbing small circles on my back. He stops after a few seconds and I feel the couch dip and he goes to stand. I lift my head back up and watch as he holds out his hand for me to take, pulling to stand.
"We have a job to do tonight." I raise my eyebrows, narrowing my eyes. "You up for some reconnaissance?" he asks, tilting his head towards the television, where they're highlighting some past 'The Muse' events, and promoting their concert for tonight. "You want to go see what they're really like?" A knowing smirk crosses his lips and I find myself mimicking it.
"Yeah, I'm in."
'The Muse' isn't playing at a large venue tonight, but rather an up scale night club just a few blocks down from our studio in Los Angeles. They've been trying to keep it calm these last few weeks leading up to the tour, apparently, playing at smaller venue's rather than their usual concerts normally held in stadiums.
Gale, Rory, and myself change into "club attire," trying to make ourselves look as inconspicuous as possible. It'll be a difficult task, considering our faces are plastered on the front of almost every magazine out right now, but we somehow manage to look somewhat normal. Gale and Rory both wear beanies paired with sunglasses, but I don't wear anything to hide myself, hoping that keeping my hair down and framing my face will allow for at least a little bit of privacy.
Our body guard Mitchell escorts us to the door and we flash our ID's quickly before stepping into the darkened club. One of the guards inside stops us before we get through the rest of the way. "Tickets," he grunts, holding out his hand. Gale and Rory drop their sunglasses for a second before I step around them. "Oh, okay, right this way."
The scene thrives with music, loud and pulsating, reverberating throughout my entire body. I can feel the beat from my head, to the tips of my toes as my inner musician takes me over. A nervous energy courses through my body when I see them on stage, their show almost coming to an end.
I scan the room, surveying the crowd carefully. I roll my eyes as I see a few people here and there wearing band tee's with 'The Muse' plastered across the front.
Mitchell waves for us to follow him, and we comply, weaving through the crowd as we push past person after person. I make it a statement to keep my head down towards the ground, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone. The last thing we need is to be recognized before we've even gotten the chance to do what we came here to do.
We stop short of the gate at the foot of the stage, but we're far enough away that we can be hidden by the shadows of the people that surround us. I turn to Gale and he gives me a nod, his lips turning upward into a smile, to which I return.
I can feel the nervous energy that fills the room as everyone anxiously awaits them to play their last song. I swallow hard and try to keep my nerves at bay, scanning my eyes quickly across the stage in each for their band. My eyes fall on Finnick Odair, the bands guitarist, who's near the back of the stage lazily stringing his guitar. He rolls his wrists a few times, bending them back and forth in order to loosen them up, I'm sure.
They all look exhausted at this point. Sweat gleaming on their faces, their t-shirts hugging their sweaty bodies as their chests heave with each breath that they take. Rye Mellark, their drummer, and Peeta's brother, steps out from behind the stage and sits behind the drum set placed dead center in the back.
And that's when my eyes finally land on Peeta, who's striding from off the side of the stage to stand in front of the mic. I narrow my eyes and strain my eyes to listen to the words eliciting form his lips.
"Hey guys," he exhales breathily before taking another deep breath, slipping the mic from the stand and holding it, and walking around as he addresses the crowd. "Thank you all for coming out tonight, we really appreciate it." The audience around us yells their appreciation, causing a smug expression to rouse upon his face. I have to keep from biting down on my lip too hard, dissatisfaction, and annoyance seeping through me.
"We're all really excited to get to spend our last nights in LA here with you all, and we know that without you, none of this would have even been possible." The crowd cheers their affection around me, but I have to force myself to swallow the bile rising in my throat. He's just as fake as the rest of them.
"Okay, well, we won't make you wait any longer. Here's 'I Feel Alive'."
I shift anxiously on my feet as I watch him grip his jean jacket and tighten it against him, causing the low slung white t-shirt to ride up and expose his stomach for a split second. I clench my teeth as I feel the betraying flutter deep beneath my core. I fucking hate him.
The sound of Finnick's guitar resonates around the room, and I look over at him and notice the way his eyes are screwed to the crowd, fixated on a point in the distance; obviously heavy in focus. The steady beats of the drums reveal Rye, plastered to his seat as the rhythm continues building up. I turn to look at Gale one last time, standing with his arms crossed defensively against his chest, peering up at the stage from the rim of his sunglasses. I turn back just in time to see Peeta grab the mic stand, his mouth opening as his voice carries throughout the room.
"We're all alone watching shadows on the ceiling,"
"I've gone numb but I can't forget the feeling',"
"And I don't even know if I can close my eyes,"
"Don't wanna sleep 'cause I'm wide awake and dreaming',"
"Hold me close and catch your breath now,"
"I promise not to leave this bed yet,"
The crowd seems to move in a similar sense of rhythm, their bodies shifting and bumping against me in the process. The music picks up now, suddenly changing into a more upbeat, faster tempo as all the attention is directed to Rye as he continues the steady build up to the chorus. Peeta grabs the mic and disconnects it from the stand, taking a few steps back and throwing his head back before pointing at the crown in earnest.
"'Cause I feel alive!" The music drops and he begins jumping in place. "I feel alive!" This is when Finnick joins in, adding a few "oh's" along with Peeta. "I finally feel alive…" The music slows a bit now, and Peeta heaves a heavy breath before stopping at the front of the stage again.
"I'm lying here whisperin' the sweetest nothing,"
"I feel your heart beating faster than you're breathing,"
"And I don't even know if I can close my eyes,"
"Don't wanna sleep 'cause I'm wide awake and dreaming',"
"Hold me close and catch your breath now,"
"I promise not to leave this bed yet,"
"'Cause I feel alive!" (Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh)
"I feel alive!" (Oh oh oh oh oh oh)
"I finally feel alive!"
Peeta's eyes begin skimming the crowd, a wide smile playing across his lips as he watches their fans jump around and wave. But just as his preying eyes begin their pass over me, my breathe hitches in my throat as our eyes lock. I curse under my breath and look away, sure of myself that I just ruined this entire night for us. I have keep my eyes towards the ground as the song continues.
"There's a time and a place for you to say what's next,"
"So tell me all of the things you dream but never did,"
"There's a time and a place for you to hold your breath,"
"So tell me all of the things you thought but never said,"
His voice cuts off again, the music getting progressively faster against, and I can tell the song is about to come to a close. I dare a chance back up at him and find his eyes still locked onto mine. His lips lift up into a half grin, smirking down at me as if he's some superior being. A growing anger begins rising in my belly as his face contorts and shifts into a wider, more knowing smirk, throwing a wink at me. I growl in frustration as he revels in his glory, keeping his eyes trained on mine for the duration of the song. I don't not look away because I can't, but because I won't. I won't let him win, no, I can't allow him such satisfaction.
"'Cause I feel alive,"
"I feel alive!"
"'Cause I feel alive," (Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh)
"I feel alive," (oh oh oh oh oh oh oh)
"I finally feel alive!"
"I finally feel alive."
I feel a twinge of irritation, my head pounding. My heart is practically beating out of my chest as I struggle to catch my breath. I finally tear my eyes away from Peeta's stare and grab Gale's arm, pulling his head down to mine as to whisper in his ear. "We need to go- now." His eyes widen slightly before nodding his head, turning to Rory to get his attention.
The three of us begin weaving our way through the crowd, and towards the doors when Peeta's voice reaches my ears, echoing throughout the room.
"Hey everyone, thank you all so much for coming out tonight. We are so grateful for all of your support throughout this past year, and we know we wouldn't have been able to do this without you." I turn around and find his eyes searching the room until they finally land on mine again. I turn on my heels and start pushing Gale ahead of me.
"As you all know, we're going on to Ultra Tour this summer, starting next week here in LA. We're going to be joining The New Romantics-" he pauses and I pull Gale to a stop, curling my fingers into his t-shirt and turn around, connecting eyes with Peeta up on the stage. "-who just so happen to be here tonight." You can hear the audience give a collective gasp, and all of the sudden, the spotlight is on us.
Mitchell is immediately at our sides before people get a chance to swarm us, and I have to duck my head and keep it down, still grasping Gale's shirt in order not to get left behind. The crowd's yells and noise still rattles my brain as we exit the main room, and I lift my head to find us in a too brightly lit back room, band gear and empty instrument cases strewn across the floor.
"Where are we? Why aren't we leaving?" I ask, turning to face Mitchell. "We need to get out of here, or else we'll never get to leave without being swarmed."
"Relax, Katniss, you all can't leave yet. It's too hectic out there. I just got word from Haymitch that you all need to stay back here until further notice. He'll get back to me when you're allowed to leave," he says calmly, peeking his head out the door before turning back to face us, keeping his back against it. "But until then, you are to remain in here for the duration of the concert. It shouldn't be long, they're wrapping up now."
"And Mellark? Is he going to be reprimanded for almost causing a scene out there?" I ask angrily, waving my arms out in front of me. "Something could have gone seriously wrong, Mitchell."
"Katniss, that's not our call to make. We can't control what happens to them." I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, crossing my arms defensively against my chest.
The longer we sit and wait, the longer my head pounds. The flourescant lights in here are far too bright for comfort, and I can feel the migraine already coming along. But as if this night couldn't get any worse, Peeta, followed by Finnick and Rye, stroll into the room, seemingly unscathed by their little tryst.
My face is set into a permanent scowl as I watch the cocky bastard stroll in with that god damn smirk plastered across his lips, a straw poking out between his teeth. His eyes automatically zero in on mine as they approach us, his smug grin wider than I've ever seen.
"Ah, so nice of you to join us," Peeta mutters, coming to stand directly in front of me. "I'm don't suppose you came for the refreshments," he leers at us for a few moments, raising his eyebrows in an amused fashion. Finnick approaches next, his eyes raking up and down my body.
"Katniss Everdeen, well if it isn't a pleasure to finally meet you." He reaches down and grabs my hand, placing a wet kiss on my palm. I jerk my hand away, and his eyes lights up with an alluring light.
"Don't touch me," I say through gritted teeth, annunciating every word. I stare daggers directly into him, wishing so badly I could destroy that impenetrable sultry persona. "What do you want?"
"I think the better question is, what do you want?" Peeta asks and my eyes cut to him. "You're the ones who showed up here, after all." I cross my arm defensively against my chest, my eyes tracing a bead of sweat falling down his temple. "Pretty devious."
"If anything, you're the duplicable ones," Gale retorts, shifting on his feet beside me. "Scheduling this tour with us last minute, not even giving us a chance to say no?"
Peeta's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Oh Gale, if it were only that simple." His voice is smooth, yet cunning. "We were just doing what we were told."
"Thats a load of bullshit and we know it!" I can no longer contain myself, screaming, my voice loud and shrill, to even my own ears. "Don't stand here and lie to our faces." My heart is racing as I keep my eyes trained on Peeta's, trying to read him. But all I find is a hollow shell of a person. No better than the rest of them.
"Woah there, Kat. Getting a little feisty, eh?" The way his eyes cut through me makes my skin crawl, and I can feel the bile rising in my throat at the pet name he's given me. "Relax."
"Don't fucking tell me what to do," I spit, stepping forward, leaving little space between us. The air is tight and thick with tension, leaving only a few inches separating our bodies. The smirk doesn't fall from his face, doesn't even falter. But I keep my eyes locked with his, never backing down. I will win this. I will not let him bring me down.
Peeta raises his hands in mock defense, his fingers brushing my chest in the process. My blood boils but I don't move my gaze away, a look so vile with hatred you would think looks could kill. I narrow my eyes as his waver with something I can't quite place, but just as soon, his face sets back in that smug grin he was sporting before.
"I suppose we'll leave you be," he mumbles, pulling his straw from between his teeth, twirling it around with his fingers. "For now." His eyes finally flit form mine to Gales, and I feel him tense beside me, but never breaking composure. I was sure he would have lost it a while ago.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you." His eyes lock with mine once again, and before I have the chance to realize what's happening, he's lifting my hand to his mouth, placing a firm, steady kiss upon my palm before swiftly dropping it down to my side. I'm embarrassed by the way my skin flushes a deep crimson, giving Peeta another perfect opportunity to give me that flashy smirk.
"Don't flatter yourself," I mutter, wiping the back of my hand against my black skinny jeans. I chance a glance around the room, and to my utter mortification, find everyone's eyes on me.
"I'm hurt," Peeta retorts, popping the straw back into his mouth and clenching his jaw. "You would think you would have a bit less resilience towards me, considering we are going to be spending the entire summer together." I have to bit my tongue to avoid screaming vicious obscenities at him.
"Bite me," I snap, turning on my heels to walk out of the room. But I don't miss the way I feel his body's proximity as he whispers "Careful, Kitty." Nor do I miss the way his hot breath tickles my neck as I hear his voice lilt in an alluring purr. My eyes widen if horrification, and I whip around, raising my arm with every intent to slap him, when Gale's fingers wrap around my wrist.
"That's enough of that," he grits, pulling my back flush against his front, holding me back. "Let's get out of here." My eyes search the room, seeking Peeta as my eyes fall on Finnick, who seems to have enjoyed this entire altercation, with his lip between his teeth, biting back laughter.
My eyes finally land on Peeta, who's now at the back of the room, arms crossed against his chest as he watches me being practically dragged from the room. Mitchell seems to have appeared suddenly, holding the door open before I finally break eye contact with Peeta, stumbling through the doorway and out of the building.
My eyes are immediately seized by the flashing lights and pallid screams of the nasty men scouting the area. I have to reach out and grab the back of Gale's shirt in order to not be left behind, keeping my face to the ground as we make our way to the car. Mitchell comes back to my side, escorting me around the side of the car and opening the door, allowing me to slide in, finally protected from the swirling whirlwind of chaos outside.
A/N: Hey guys! So, if you can't already tell, this is a brand new story. I've had this idea sitting in the back of my mind for a while, and I have just been really itching to write it. And if you couldn't already tell, it's a rivalry between Katniss' band, and Peeta's band. I'm really excited to get this going, and I really hope you all like it.
If you were wondering, the song that Peeta sings at their concert is I Feel Alive by We The Kings.
Updated for this may be a little slower, considering this is a new start up story, but don't worry, I won't go longer than a month before uploading, or at least I'll try.
If you leave a review, please tell me if you enjoyed it. I've worked really had on this and have spent a long time thinking about how to write it.
If you need any updates or anything on this story, or any of my stories, and need to contact me, my Tumblr is catching-dandelions.