She walks around the tables, looking at all the different drawings.
Some realistic, some anime, and some that are just stick figures.
Katniss has been in the same room for seven hours. Being her first time at the San Diego Comic Con, the suffocating feel that would normally be frustrating, energizes her. For once she's actually happy to be in a crowd, to be lost amongst the thousands of faces.
One girl in a comic book store stands out, like if Batman joined the Avengers, just wrong. Among this throng of people, it's impossible to walk five feet without bumping shoulders with another girl, most wearing skimpy costumes. Katniss is in comfy jean shorts, runners and her favorite comic t-shirt.
At one table, she notices a statue that she'd been looking for. She quickly moves to the side to get out of the pedestrian current and checks her wallet. Katniss saved all year for the money to go on this trip, well all the money she could spare. Most of her money went to bills and Prim's medical school. When she received her acceptance letter and squealed in delight, Katniss caught her mother's eyes. They didn't have enough money to send Prim to the school she wanted. So Katniss picked up another job, and her mother started doing extra shifts at the hospital.
She sighs as she notes that she's forty dollars short of the price on the statue box. Most vendors will haggle, but some know they can squeeze people for more than stores usually have them priced at. She breathes in slowly, she doesn't like trying to talk prices down. Most vendors won't budge with assertiveness, but give them a suggestive wink, a hint of cleavage, then they might lower a few bucks. Katniss fixes her shirt and shorts. For forty off she's going to have to look good, going to have to make a fool of herself. For a black and white Batman statue designed and sculpted by Peeta Mellark, it's worth it.
When Katniss was twelve her dad was hit by a drunk driver, he didn't make it through the night. Her uncle Haymitch owned a comic book store, and at the reception after the funeral he gave her a Batman comic. Batman lost both parents, and he turned his loss into something more, something that changed Gotham. She wasn't always a big fan of what DC did with her favorite character, but he was always there for her. When Bruce died and Dick Grayson took the cowl, hundreds angrily took the internet, but Katniss felt for Dick. She knew what loss was.
She knew that nothing lasted forever, Bruce Wayne was no exception.
However she didn't like when they rebooted the universe. It felt like a big middle finger to all the writers that had weaved what Batman had become. DC was lucky they had used the change to get Peeta Mellark to take up the artwork. Katniss had bought the first issue after the reboot just to see what direction they were going to go. She had given up on their comics and had been reading stories from other companies;
Zenescope and Marvel. The moment she opened the book she moaned at the intricate details on her favorite character. She eagerly flipped through the book, for the first time truly appreciating a comics art.
After that she looked forward to her monthly stop at her uncle's shop,
more than she had before. She ordered posters by Peeta, framed they finally gave her usually bare walls life. She had been collecting most of the Batman black and white statues, well the ones she liked, when she saw an ad for his black and white. She eagerly marked it down, and was disappointed to learn her uncle hadn't been able to order it.
The picture did not give it justice. Most artists showed Batman as angry, angry at villains, angry at the world, Peeta's drawings always showed a gentler side. This statue though, Katniss instantly felt her chest tighten. It was his own interpretation of when Batman held Jason's body. The loss etched in the sculpture was so evident it took Katniss a moment to regroup. She had to play this right.
The owner of the table was busy sketching while she walked to the table. While she waited for him to look up, she peered down at his work. She mentally face palms herself. She hadn't even bothered to find a name for this young artist. Now she was thankful he was preoccupied so she could steady her breath. She was still catching it when he looked up, his blue eyes more blue than Batman's old costume.
"Can I help you?"
He's gorgeous, not what she would have believed of the famous artist.
He wears a simple flash shirt, but his upper body is big. Not usual pot-bellied comic book fan big, but push her against the wall and take her hard big. She swallows and looks up, his eyes hold hers again.
Katniss opens her mouth to flirt with him, to seduce him into lowering the cost.
"You're Peeta Mellark." Is instead what decides to fly unbidden.
He chuckles, "That's what they tell me," and turns to face his banner.
Katniss didn't even notice the large stand up before. With his name across a classic photo of Batman gazing down at Gotham, she had been really focused on making sure her tits looked good enough to get the statue.
The statue!
"Er I mean," she stammers trying to get her words to form into helpful sentences, "I was wondering how much you're selling the black and white for?" She tries to lean forward suggestively, but her palms end up pushing some of his prints to the floor. At any other convention that wouldn't be too big of a deal, but at San Diego, where a tin of sardines is putting it mildly, the prints are torn to shreds by passing feet. Katniss drops to her knees, apologizing profusely and kicking herself for being an idiot in front of her favorite artist. As she picks up the papers a foot comes down on her hand. A silent scream tears from her as the pressure leaves and someone grabs her shoulder,
pulling her under Peeta's table.
"Are you OK?" he asks, his blue eyes round with worry. Katniss nods,
she couldn't form words even if she wanted to. He is so warm, still holding her shoulder, so close. "Good," he says crawling back out onto his side of the table, prints left destroyed and forgotten underneath.
Katniss brings them up with her.
"I'm sorry," she says, taking out her wallet, "I'm sorry this is all I have." She tries to hand him the money, sixty dollars, not even close to how much those prints must be worth.
He pushes her hand away, "It's OK I hated those pictures anyway," he smiles nonchalantly, "do you collect Batman?"
Katniss sways on her feet, nodding, "yes, I really like what you and Finnick Odair are doing with the new series." He's still smiling at her and it's contagious, so she offers him a small one of her own.
He returns it tenfold, smiling more broadly, then dropping it on one side, giving him a naughty crooked smile. He leans in and says, "Can you keep a secret?"
Inhaling the thick smell of him, ink and callogne, she nods again,
unintentionally biting her lower lip. His eyes zero in on the motion,
darkening for a moment, then returning to her own. He whispers "I hate that DC rebooted it."
Katniss leans back and laughs, momentarily forgetting that the man in front of her is not only her favorite artist but a sex god in disguise. "Agreed, but the reboot did bring in one good thing."
Peeta leans back, grining broadly again, "What's that?"
"Your drawings," Katniss says, still not sure where this bravery is coming from. "That's why I was looking at your black and white, your statue shows so much emotion."
"Good," He says standing up and picking up the statue box. "I usually only keep this as a demo, to show my work, but a true fan," He holds out the box to her, "Those are like a Mastercard, priceless."
Katniss gapes, "Oh no I couldn't!" She tries to gently push it back to him, but he catches her hand with his other.
"Please," his eyes are round again, and she can't refuse, she falters for a moment, and that's all he needs. "Here." He's smiling wide again while getting the box into her hands. She looks down at it. The simple black and white box, just a picture of the statue it holds adorns it.
"How much?" She chokes, looking back into his eyes.
"One date."