My father would be turning over in his grave if he knew his eldest daughter was on her way to Victor's Village for a job interview. Although, if it weren't for my father being in the grave, he'd still be working, my mother would still be functioning, and my sister and I wouldn't have lived for years on the edge of complete starvation. As it is, he's gone, my mother's gone, and it's up to me to keep my little sister fed and clothed. A responsibility that has become more and more difficult in our tiny district. The money I made as the waitress/bartender/janitor at the only bar in town wasn't enough for a three-person household.

At least, that's what I told myself as I pushed open the heavy door of the infamous gentleman's club three districts over. That and I was interviewing for the bartender position and not the dancer one, which should help my deceased father's state of mind. If it was just my deceased father's state of mind, I would have considered the other job – they make more money and it's well known that Haymitch Abernathy takes care of his girls – but I'm still responsible for my sister. My baby sister who is about to start her senior year of high school and doesn't need any more rumors surrounding her. I've protected her as best as possible from the snide comments from fellow students from some of the wealthier districts whose school district we share, but if word ever got around that Primrose Everdeen's sister was stripping for money...that's just not something I'm willing to subject her to.

And then there's my mother to consider, I suppose. She's finally starting to mentally stabilize. She can now look at me without seeing the ghost of my father. We can have a civilized conversation over meager dinners. She's old-fashioned enough to hate the idea of her daughter bartending, which I never paid attention to because it was that bartending job that brought home money. Anything more than that might completely dissolve our fragile relationship. Like it or not, these women are the only people I have left in the world.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I got inside the club - everything I knew about strip clubs came from the stories I heard from adults and the images I conjured up on my own head. Needless to say, the inside of Victor's Village looked nothing like I thought it would. There were no neon lights or zebra print couches. It didn't smell like stale smoke or booze or...worse. The walls were a light brown with licks of red like flames, and the furniture was made of deep mahogany. Gold carpeting covered the floor, accented by the low lightening along the walls. It's the richest looking building I've ever been in and I found myself running my fingers over the expensive woodwork at the edge of the expansive bar. The thought that a place like this existed so close to starving children and abject poverty made me sick to my stomach, but I couldn't allow myself to dwell on the feeling for too long.

The girl who greeted me wasn't what I expected either. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a loose bun, her face free of makeup, and she was simply dressed in jeans and a Victor's Village blank tank top. "Hi," she said with an easy smile. "You must be the applicant. Haymitch will be up in a second. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?" She slipped behind the bar and began pulling bottles off the shelves and lining them up on the front of the bar.

"Uh," my mouth went dry. The bottom of her tank top rose up an extensive back brace. "Um. No, no I don't need anything to drink..."

The girl chuckled. As I looked up, she was looking back at me, clearly having caught me staring. "Pulled tendons. I've been put on bar duty until I heal up properly. Haymitch insisted."

"Because Haymitch doesn't want his girls to be injured for life. Get back to work, Annie."

I snapped my head back to see a paunchy, middle-aged man stagger down the stairs; I assumed him to be the Haymitch the girl was just talking about. He seemed old enough to own the bar, though his greying hair and deep set wrinkles may only be exacerbating his age. His eyes were the same color as mine; everything about him gave me the impression he could have been raised in the poor part of town as well. Well, everything except the building I was standing in.

"You the Everdeen girl?" he asked, his voice gravely and direct.

I nodded. "Katniss. Um, Katniss Everdeen. For the bar-"

"Bartending. Yeah yeah. I remember. Your application was impressive. Ol' Sae seemed to think you were throwing your life away by coming here but that's what she said about me." He began to laugh, albeit a little too hard because he started coughing instead.

More and more, this day has become not at all like I expected. How could this be the man who runs one of the most prestigious gentleman's club in the country? Nothing, from the way he looked or acted felt in place with the surroundings. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, waiting for him to calm down enough to continue.

"I'll put you on tonight's shift. It should be pretty slow and Annie will be here to help you out. You'll need to change, obviously. You may be a bartender here but we have a reputation to uphold."

"Wh-wh-wait. What?" I asked, staring at him in total disbelief. "Tonight? I thought this was just the interview."

Haymitch stared at me, his tongue tracing the edge of his teeth. "Things move pretty fast here and I need a bartender now. If you're not up for it, I've got another girl coming in soon. I'm sure she won't be so afraid of the challenge."

I felt my eyes widen for a beat before I narrowed them at him. Afraid? Of a challenge? Me? "What should I wear?"

He smirked and motioned for me to follow him to a back room. He sat at a desk and pulled a novel's worth of paperwork out of a drawer. "We've got some rules here, Kid. Mostly for your safety, but some for mine and the club's. Beyond that, we need to do some pretty typical background checks, health checks, credit reports, all that crap that just prove you're not going to rob me blind or some shit like that. I'm not too worried about you but it's part of the routine."

I nodded, skimming through all the forms he put in front of me. It made me wonder what happened to Haymitch that required such an extensive check on every single employee. Sure, this was a premier club, but the multiple checks seemed slightly over the top.

"And then we have your bank information, tax forms, insurance forms, insurance liabilities, non-disclosure and confidentiality forms for both you and the other employees, and the rules." I quickly scanned over the pages and pages of rules. Most seemed pretty generic to almost any workplace and a few were specific to this type of environment.

Employees are not to engage in external fraternization with customers. For your safety and the protection of Victor's Village, any employee caught spending time with customers outside of work or performing non-work related activities with customers will be placed on probation. If a second offense occurs, employee will be immediately terminated. Under no circumstances can the former employee be rehired in this situation.

The last rule, right at the bottom of the page caught my eye.

Under no circumstances are employees to open any envelopes or packages from unknown senders. If at any time an employee receives unsolicited mail at their private residence, they are to immediately turn it over to Haymitch Abernathy.

That was it, no additional explanation. What a strangely specific rule, more so than the relationship one. "What's with the rule on mail?"

He squinted at me for a moment then leaned back in his chair. "There are some people in this...community...who aren't big fans of what we do here. Usually we get harmless letters but it's not worth taking the risk that it could be something more. Now, here is a suggested workout and diet plan." He looked up at me and snickered. "Although I doubt it'll be a problem of you not maintaining a particular body shape."

I scowled at him, even if he had a point. I wasn't only thin because my family was poor. Both of my parents were naturally small and I spent most of my non-working hours trekking through the woods to help my family. It had been so long since I had excessive food that it would likely take months of gorging myself before any of it started showing. But it wasn't really like I wanted to be reminded of that. Especially by my new employer.

"As for your uniform," Haymitch stood from his desk and pulled a large box off a shelf. "You're a small, yeah? Maybe even an extra small." He started rummaging around, digging almost entirely to the bottom before he tossed a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top at me. "You can borrow those for the night, until you get some clothes of your own. Bathroom's down the hall. Go change and start with Annie."

I held the shorts up and my heart sank. There was barely enough denim fabric to consider them proper shorts, even for my tiny frame. But I did as I was told and shuffled out of the office as quickly as possible to find the bathroom. I slid out of my clothes and into my new uniform, staring at myself in the full length mirror. I tugged down the hem of the tank top, hoping it would help provide a little bit of modesty, but I knew it was a false hope. Nothing could cover up the fact that my shorts barely covered my most intimate places and if I bent over, anyone who could would be able to see my underwear. I'm relieved that I at least took the time to shave my legs a few days ago and the hair hasn't started growing back yet. I don't know what Haymitch would have done if I hadn't. I get the feeling he cares more about my body hair than I do at this point, and since he makes the decisions, his feelings about it mattered the most.

Annie is still cleaning behind the bar when I come out. She smiles brightly at me and hops off the step ladder she had been standing on. "Hey, Katniss, right?"

I nodded, smiling softly back at her. "Yeah. And you're Annie? Um...Haymitch sent me here for you to train me?"

Annie laughed. "Of course he did. Have you tended bar before?" I nodded again, drawing another smile from her. "Then you'll be fine. Most of the people who come in here aren't looking for fruity cocktails. They want beer, whiskey, rum, that sort of thing. So long as you can multitask and hold a lot of orders in your head, you'll be fine. Things will get hectic and the men are complete assholes sometimes but we look out for each other."

"So...what do we do now?" I asked, given that the job sounds simple enough.

"We continue to clean and stock. It'll get done quicker now that I have a second set of hands."

As we took care of the bar area, I noticed more women come strolling in, greeting Annie and giving me dirty looks. "Who are they?" I asked her.

"The dancers. They use slow nights to work on new moves and routines," she answered, as watching them as they began to warm up. "You know we have the main stage," she pointed to it, "and then we also have five or six side stages. And then, of course, the private booths along the edges."

I gulped. "Private booths?" I knew this was a gentleman's club and that the dancers did end up unveiling most of their bodies in the process but I never knew about...private booths. It just screamed out prostitution and if that was the kind of establishment this was then I wanted no part of it. I would have no problem marching back into Haymitch's office and quitting. I didn't care that I had only been hired for a few hours.

Annie gently touched my shoulder. "It's not that kind of private booth. I mean, it never was for me. Or 99% of the other girls. Sure, there are always a few looking to make a few extra dollars but it's rare and we usually nip it in the bud before it gets out of hand."

"Then what do you do in there?"

"Lap dances," she answered. "Sometimes just talk. It's amazing how often these men just want a little companionship. Naked companionship, but not necessarily sexual companionship. We aim to please here at Victor's Village with very few exceptions."

I can't take my eyes off the soft gold curtains that line the outside of the private booths. Companionship? Someday, I figure there will be little about this place that doesn't surprise me, if I stay that long. I may not know what I want to be when I grow up, but I'm fairly certain it isn't a bartender. I have no ambition to stay here the rest of my life, only until I have enough money saved up for Prim's college tuition.

"That was a slow night?" I asked, wiping my face with my forearm, which was sticky from where a customer sloshed his drink on me.

Annie giggled from the register. "Believe me, after a few weekend shifts and you'll start looking forward to nights like this."

I shook my head and sorted through the tip bucket the way Annie showed me. Bartenders got 80% of the tips and security got the other 20% and Annie gave me the responsibility of calculating everyone's percentages. It was a relaxing job after the whirlwind day, and night, I had just lived through. Right before the doors unlocked, Annie ambushed me - cutting a deeper V in my tank top to show more skin. I had tried to argue that my breasts weren't big enough to make a difference and she said it wasn't just breasts these men were interested in. "It's the illusion."

Illusions seemed to be what Victor's Village prided themselves on. As busy as Annie and I were at the bar, I still found myself entranced by the dancers throughout the club. They moved with such grace and sensuality; not as women taking their clothes off for money, but as fantastical creatures from another world. It reminded me of when I was younger and in my youthful dance recitals. I remember getting lost in the world being created. I wasn't Katniss Everdeen, I was a bird, or greek muse, or whatever creature I was pretending to be. But the memories tightened my chest in a way that forced me to look away. But never for long.

I looked back down at the neatly organized piles of money I had been counting and took the bundles over to Annie, who double checked it and doled out my share. "Good night tonight, huh?"

I looked down at the stack of bills in my hand, guessing there was over $300 there. "This is...this is crazy," I admitted with a smile.

"Never made that much money in one night, have you?"

I shook my head. No. No, I had never physically held this much cash at any point in my life. It felt ridiculous to be so excited by a relatively small amount of money, but to her credit, Annie didn't say anything. She simply turned back to the register and began to hum a tune I didn't recognize. $300. In one night. I could buy real groceries for my family with this, like real bread and fresh fruits and vegetables, and still put most of it in savings.

The bus ride back to my home district was terrifically long and short at the same time. I was wrapped up in my jacket, but my legs were still dreadfully exposed to the few other bus riders. But all I could think about was the wad of money in my pocket, bulging uncomfortably against the denim fabric. My father may be rolling over in his grave, but for once, I couldn't care less what he may have thought. It was the first night I felt fully capable of caring for the family he inadvertently left behind.

My mother hardly spoke to me when I would spend time at home. I'm used to it by now, and I can't remember the last time we had an actual conversation. She doesn't know where I work now but I'm not sure she knew where I used to work. Every few days, she would have moments of lucidity; she'd be up in the morning cooking breakfast or attempting to restock her medicine cabinets for when she used to make house calls. Prim loved those days because to her, they meant our mother was almost back to herself. Primrose was always the optimist of our family.

As much as I wished my mother was back to herself, I had to admit that there were definite upsides to not having her be involved in my life. If nothing else, it gave me the freedom to do whatever I wanted when I was at home. And ever since my first night at Victor's Village, most of my time had been spent thinking about the girls.

My childhood friend, Madge, had a full dance studio in her house. She took ballet and always tried to teach me since my family couldn't afford classes even when my father was alive. She was an amazing dancer, and I remember thinking I'd never be as good as her. She told me the names of things, but I could never remember them. Plié, relevés, first position, fourth position - it didn't make any sense to me, so I made up my own based on what she looked like while doing them. I begged my father for a studio of my own so I could practice when Madge couldn't have company over. He surprised me one day by installing a makeshift barre in the basement next to his work station. Down in the basement, I would bounce around to the music in my head, creating my own music to dance to, putting on little shows for my parents and baby sister. My father said I had his natural grace.

After he died, the makeshift dance studio was abandoned completely. I couldn't go down there without being flooded by memories of him. Prim never questioned me about it and my mother would often sit and stare at the door that led to it, waiting for my father to emerge from the workroom. But I knew, that after so many years of avoidance, I would need to venture back down. There was no way I could afford enough clothes to work, but I could potentially pull an Annie and create something acceptable out of my current wardrobe. To do that, I would need more than just the simple needle and thread I kept in my dresser. I would need my mother's outdated sewing machine that was still stored in the basement. The dust in the forgotten room was thick and stifling as I made my way down, and everything smelled like coal and mold and the tanning equipment my father used when he stretched animal skins. It's how the house used to smell all the time, and I closed my eyes to let it all wash over me again. I felt the tears prick at my eyes and I forced them open. It didn't take long to find the wall mirrors, still caked with an always present layer of coal dust, and the barre running across the wall. I ran my fingers along it, sending the dust flying around. I gripped it with both hands and stared at myself in the mirror.

I thought about Madge, about how graceful she looked when she would stretch her legs and jeté around the room in perfect time to whatever music was playing at the time. I thought about the girls at the club who flowed around the pole and slinked along the stage. I wondered how similar they were, the technical ballet of my past and the sensual movements of my present. I don't know how long I stayed, gripping the barre, staring at my reflection, thinking about things. It wasn't until I heard the front door close and Prim's surprisingly heavy footstep that I realized I had zoned out and had been crying. I wiped my eyes, I and took a few deep breaths. I found the sewing machine and a few boxes of supplies and lugged them all upstairs. "Prim?" I called out. "Can you give me a hand, please?"

Prim came bouncing over, a slight flush on her face. "Katniss! What...why do you have-"

"Just, grab the box on top first?" I struggled, leaning against the wall in attempts to prevent anything from falling or spilling. "Come on, we're taking these up to our room."

Prim shrugged and followed me up to our shared bedroom. "Whatcha sewing?" She asked, plopping down on my bed, crossing her legs.

"Stuff for work." I answered, dumping out the contents of the boxes. I moved over to my dresser and started tossing all my clothes onto the floor next to the supplies.

"Did Sae change the uniform?"

I glanced over at her, staring all too innocently at me. "What? Uh, no. Well, no, it's not for Sae's. It's a different job. Just, come here, Duck. Help me find some stuff I can fix."

"Fix?" She hopped off the bed and knelt next to me. "Fix how?"

I sighed. It's not like I can actually tell her why I need to tear up my old clothes and basically cut the crotches out of my precious few shorts, but it's clear she's not going to just do what I ask her to anymore. Damn teenagers. And damn her. I don't know when she got so smart and was able to read me. "It's...Madge got me a job as a bartender at a club over in Two," I lied. It wasn't a complete lie. I was a bartender and it was at a club in a different district. And it was enough for Prim because her eyes lit up and she let out a squeal I had never heard from her before.

"So we need to make you presentable?" She asked, holding up my old camp t-shirts. "Well. Um...we'll try at least," she added with a wink.

I shoved her with my shoulder, causing us both to laugh. I felt slightly guilty with the white lie I told her, but when I thought back to the remaining cash hidden under my mattress, I realized it was worth it. I would make sure my teenage sister would get out of this two-bit district and live her dream. "Okay," I say with a reluctant sigh. "Where should I start?"

I fiddled with the tie on the side of my DIY t-shirt top as I stepped off the bus to head to work the next Friday night. Haymitch made sure I knew to come in four hours before we opened to help clean and get prepped for the weekend. It would be the first time I officially met the entire staff and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Haymitch hadn't hired anyone knew in a while, so I knew the wolves would be hungry for fresh meat. They couldn't all be as nice as Annie. But I also knew that I couldn't let them see my fear if I wanted to earn their respect and make it through the night. I had never let people bully me out of something before and I wasn't about to start now.

The club was empty when I pulled open the doors, save for Annie behind the bar and Haymitch muttering something to a tall, hulking man in jeans and a tight black shirt. Annie saw me first and made a sign to Haymitch. I took a deep breath as the two men made their way over to me.

"Katniss, this is Brutus, head of security. Been here...what...25 years now?" Haymitch turned to the hulking man, Brutus, apparently, who silently nodded. "Right. So he knows the ins and outs. If you have any problems with a customer, Brutus is who you find. He'll also make sure you'll have someone to walk you to your car at the end of the night. Weekend shifts here are nothing like they are at Sae's, and you'll find that the guys here, wealthy as they are, are still your average drunk guys at the end of the night."

"Hi," I breathed out, my mind lost in a spiral of what in the world could happen that would require me to have an escort out to my car at the end of the night.

Brutus chuckled. "Scared, Girl?"

I glowered. "No," I shot back, lying my ass off. "I can hold my own pretty good."

Haymitch shot Brutus an I told you so look and they both laughed. "She's fiery," Haymitch warned.

"She'll fit right in then."

"Katniss!" I heard Annie call out over the music and crowd at the bar. "Double up those bombs. And I still need two Jacks."

I let out a sigh. Fucking frat boys had been ordering Jaeger bombs faster than we could clean up after them. Annie wasn't kidding when she said it would be batshit crazy tonight. Two bachelors parties and a fraternity initiation turned what was typically crazy busy into a total fucking zoo. My shirt was soaked in sweat and booze and I was fairly certain I'd been bought more shots in one night than in a year at Sae's. It's a good thing all bartenders know the tricks - water instead of vodka, sleight of hand, and beer bottle chaser - because otherwise I'd be a wasted mess right now.

I lined the shot glasses on the bar and filled them in front of the frat boys. Supposedly it was to show that we weren't dicking them on alcohol but it also gave us an extra set of eyes on the other customers. And the customers another chance to stare at us.

"90!" I called to the frat leader. He sat a wad of bills on the counter in exchange for the drinks.

"For you, Braids."

I rolled my eyes and counted through the money. I wasn't sure who started the nickname but it wasn't the worst I had gotten. "Mother fuckers have jipped us all night," I mumbled to Annie, holding up the $10 tip.

"That's why Haymitch hates college boys and hardly ever lets them in."

"What's the deal with tonight then?"

Annie shook her head. "One must be a son of someone important. He still put up a fight."

I stuffed the cash into the tip container under the bar and went back to work. The dancers were about to come back from the main stage break, which meant a minor break for us. Once the first girl reappeared on the stage, a pinched face girl with dark hair and fake tits, I let out a sigh of relief. We still had a crowd of people at the bar but at least we could breath.

"What can I get you?" I asked one of the bouncers who stepped to the side of the bar.

"Water for me. But the girls backstage are gonna want stuff. You got their drinks, Braids?"

"I...didn't see an order come in for them..."

"You wouldn't have," he said. "They always get the same things."

"Then what do they want?"

He scoffed. "I'm just the messenger. You're the bartender."

I shoved a bottle of water at his chest and walked away. As I was pulling bottles of domestics, I finally got Annie's attention to ask about the girls.

"Fuck. Gloss knows he's supposed to get us the order. He thinks because you're new he can be lazy. Where's he at?"

I pointed to the one I assumed was Gloss (there were too many muscular blonde security men in this place), who was helping a far too inebriated customer to the door.

"Fuck," Annie swore again. "You're quicker than I am. Run backstage, find out what they want and come back. I can handle the bar by myself for a few minutes."

I weaved my way through the crowd to the hallway that I was pretty sure would lead to the dressing room. Haymitch gave me a tour earlier that night but it was quick and I was too busy trying to meet and remember who was who to get my mental map set completely. Fortunately, it didn't take me long to find the right room, confirmed when I opened the door and got an eyeful of tits and thongs.

"Can we help you?" A blonde spit out at me from near the mirror. "Because we usually charge for this kind of ogling." I closed my eyes, trying to remember which dancer this one was...Cashmere? Lyme? Fuck there were too many blondes in this place.

"I, uh, I'm...I need your bar order…"

Cashmere or Lyme or whoever she was, raised her eyebrows. "Gloss already got them. Having a rough first day?" She, and a few others around her started laughing, as if she were some sort of comedian.

I huffed. "Clearly Gloss lost the order. So if you want something, you'll have to tell me now or walk your asses out to the bar and get it yourself." She stared me down, a smirk on her lips, but I refused to back away. I needed to assert myself, to show that I wasn't someone they could walk all over. I could cry later, if that's what it came to, but not in front of them. "Nothing?" I challenged.

A girl I vaguely recognized from my first shift, with short, spiky hair laughed at the others. "Well look at the nads on this one. Cash'll have something fruity and weak. Alcohol and heels aren't a good combination for her."

"Fuck you, Johanna."

The one with spiky hair, Johanna, apparently, winked. "Thanks Doll, but Mama doesn't swing that way. Unless you've been tucking and taping on us. And in that case, maybe we should tell your sugar daddy so he knows what he's getting himself into. Unless…" she gave an exaggerated gasp, "does Daddy like a little pegging action?"

Before I knew what was happening, a bottle of water was being thrown across the room, splashing every one and thing near Johanna got soaking wet. Just as quickly, Johanna was on her feet, rushing toward the blonde. Without thinking, I jumped toward her, wrapping my arms around her and holding her back. She was flailing her limbs and screaming words I had never even heard and it took every ounce of strength to keep her in place. I don't know who called security, but I was glad to see a tall, copper-haired guy in the same jeans and black t-shirt as the others easily take her from my arms, plop her over his shoulder, and carry her out of the room, still yelling.

I let out a slow breath. "Anything else?" I quickly took the rest of the orders and hurried back toward the bar. Holy. Shitballs. I started fixing the drinks, setting them on the tray under a napkin with their names on them for whoever would be taking them back. Because I sure as hell wasn't going to deal with those girls again. I was thankful when the blonde bouncer that wasn't Gloss took the tray. His voice was low when he thanked me and I knew I blushed like a school girl. Annie just gave me a look when I turned back around. For the rest of the night, I kept my head down, but whenever I glanced out across the room, I could feel his bright blue eyes on me and a shudder ran through my body.

I was relieved to hear Brutus' booming voice announce last call; I stopped trying to keep track of what time it was about an hour into my shift. My entire body ached, I had sweated off all the makeup Annie insisted I wore, and my hair was a wild mess. After attempting to break up my first catfight, the night seemed to fly by in a haze. I couldn't tell you who was dancing or what was playing; I was on body autopilot filling drink orders until I felt like I was about to collapse.

All five security guards - Brutus, another older guy, the one who carried Johanna, and both blondes - began herding customers out and I finally let myself rest against the bar. "Holy fuck," I groaned. On my left, Annie was leaning against the wall, looking just as exhausted as I was.

"And we get to do it all again tomorrow," she joked, wrinkling her face.

I groaned again and rested my head on my sweaty arms. "It's going to be a long bus ride."

"You're going home?" She asked, pushing herself off the wall and stretching her back.

I shrugged. "I have to. Where else am I supposed to go?"

"Stay at my place," she offered. "We usually have an unwind on Fridays anyway."

I pushed off the bar and started cleaning up as the lights came on. "Yeah? I didn't get the impression people liked each other much here."

One of the bouncers, the one with copper hair who looked more like a model than a bouncer, laughed, having overheard my comment. "Because of the fight? Nah, that's just a typical night for those two. I don't think Jo and Cash have ever gotten along."

"They're both competitors," Annie agreed. She leaned over the bar to kiss him. "Thanks, Finn, for breaking it up. I saw you carry Jo out back."

Finn shrugged. "Braids kept her contained for a while. I just did the cleanup."

Annie looked at me in surprise and I felt the heat rush through my face. "Well, what do you know," she mused, a smirk on her lips. "I told Katniss," she emphasized my name, "she could stay at my place tonight."

Finn looked over at me. "You don't have an apartment of your own in the city yet?"

I shook my head. Was I supposed to? It was only my second day of work and who knew if I would even survive the weekend. Or make enough money to pay for a place of my own. The thought ran through my head for a second to ask about rooming with someone, but I knew the only person I could really stand to live with was my sister. Getting a place felt so permanent, even if it was just an apartment.

"That's okay. I think Ena and Peeta both slept in their cars for the few month or so. Good thing Haymitch gave us all a gym membership or I don't know where they'd shower," Finn joked. "So, your place, tonight, Annie?"

She nodded. "Yep. I figured we'd all be here for a while so if you want to let people know. We'll meet up whenever Katniss and I finish." They both leaned across the bar again to give each other another quick kiss before Finn headed off with the rest of the security team.

I think Annie appreciated having another set of hands who actually knew how to run a bar. Before me, the extra bartender was on a rotation between dancers on their off nights and security guys who could be relieved for a few hours at a time. I didn't think to ask who was before Annie, since this clearly wasn't her first choice of a position at the club, but at least with two competent bartenders, the work was done more quickly than usual.

With the lights lit, the entire building felt entirely different. The dancers made quick work of cleaning the stages, poles, and backrooms. The boys did a floor check and did an overall cleaning. Everyone, it seemed, pitched in to make sure the place was kept in high condition, even though I knew Haymitch had a professional cleaning crew come in every night. As they cleaned, I noticed how relaxed they all seemed, how normal. The girls were dressed similarly as Annie and I - shorts and t-shirts or tank tops, with their hair pulled back and faces cleared. Though they were silent, there was no tension between them, even Johanna and Cashmere who I figured would still be throwing barbs at one another.

"Do you want your tips now or tomorrow?" Annie asked, as she was counting out the register. "Sometimes it's easier to just wait and only have to keep track of one wad of cash. Especially until you get a bank account here that you can quickly deposit it into. There's nothing safe about walking around with a g in your pocket."

I felt my jaw physically drop. A g? A grand. $1000 in tips. I should have known, I worked behind the bar and saw the cash flow, but somehow the idea of taking home $1000 after one night, one grueling, exhausting night, seemed so ridiculous. "Um. Ye-Yeah. No I can totally...totally wait." I exhaled and laughed slightly, still completely surprised.

"It gets easier," Annie said softly, "having that much money." The comment easily could have been judgmental. Or condescending. But there was a look in her eye that told me she knew. She knew what it was like to have little to nothing and that she knew how much that money meant. I didn't know much about my fellow bartender's background but it felt like maybe she had been where I was. Poor, hungry, needing to take care of things because no one else had. "But, I am going to take $50 out of both of our pockets to pay for the liquor tonight." She pulled $100 out of the tip jar and added it to the night till. "If you have the after hours, you provide the liquor," she explained. "Everyone else brings food and chasers and...other things. What's your poison?"

I opted for rum and Annie chose vodka, three bottles each. "Why do we need so much?" I asked.

She grinned. "You noticed that none of us really drank on the job, right? Even the stuff you made for the girls were pretty low key - just enough to get them feeling good but not enough to make any impact on their balance."

I nodded. The strongest drink I made for an employee was a Malibu and pineapple, and the only people who get drunk off those are 18 year olds. Everyone else got waters or juices.

Annie continued, "Since we don't have to be back at work until 8 tomorrow night, we tend to let loose. And let me tell you, despite how small they may seem - some of the women here can drink the guys under the table."

She made a note of what we were taking and slipped it into the register. "That way we remember for inventory," she explained. "Haymitch doesn't care what we take as long as we pay for it and keep track. It's really the least we can do since he sells it to us wholesale. I think it's just his way of making sure we don't drink on the job."

"You guys do this often?"

She nodded. "We don't get wasted every weekend, but we always get together. Ever since Haymitch took over, the place changed, you know? We're a family here."

I didn't really know - it was hard for me to picture anyone else being a part of my family other than Prim and my mom - but it was the way they were. And I was a part of them now. We cleaned up quickly enough and I rode with Annie to her apartment on the other side of the district. The building she lived in was a simple brick apartment building, with a gated entrance and keypad-coded front door. As simple as the outside may have looked, the inside was anything but. Annie's apartment took up the entire first floor and was decorated with a tasteful but exquisite ocean motif, sand-colored carpets, soft blue-green walls and worn furniture that looked like it was made from ship wreckage.

"Wow," I breathed. I had never seen such a beautiful home before, not from someone around my age anyway. Madge's home was beautiful but it had a sterile, cold feeling. Annie's was just as rich but with a warm, lived-in feeling, which made it more appealing. "This is amazing, Annie."

She flushed and ducked her head. "Thanks," she muttered. "It reminds me of home."

"You're from the coast?" I asked. I may not have grown up in the middle of the country, but I was far enough away from any ocean to basically have that experience. Everyone I knew was from my district and while I suspected my coworkers were from other districts, just by their looks, I guess I never really thought about where they might be from.

"Mm-hmm," she answered. "So is Finnick. He grew up a little further south but we're from the same district."

I raised my eyebrows. "Is that why you guys are…"

Annie grinned. "We're not 'technically' anything. Especially if Haymitch asks. But, I mean, yeah, I guess it helps that we've got that in common, among other things. We met when I first started working and he really helped mentor me through this crazy world. We just kind of...snuck up on each other, I think."

"Who snuck up on who?" A deep voice called from the doorway. "I'm pretty sure you kept making plays at me and I had to turn you down."

Annie rolled her eyes, but kept the smile on her face. Her entire face lit up when Finnick and one of the blondes - the one with the eyes - came into the room. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Hey, Peeta. You know Katniss?"

Peeta smiled. His lopsided grin accentuated his boyish features. "We met. How are you liking it so far, Katniss?"

"Good," I answered quietly. "Exhausting."

"Tell me about it. I was so tired after my first weekend shift that I passed out as soon as I got to the afterparty."

Finnick laughed and lightly punched Peeta on the arm. "Rookie mistake, really."

"They drew on me with permanent markers," Peeta laughed. "I spent all day in the shower and I still had some when I went to work that night." He leaned in close to me. "Don't worry, us newbies stick together."

I felt my skin prickle as his breath caught my ear. He backed off and started unloading food from the bags of groceries they brought in. Within the hour, Annie's apartment filled with coworkers, all unwinding after the long shift. I stayed in the kitchen area, leaning against the wall, sipping my rum and coke, taking the entire scene in. They were so comfortable together, lounging on each others' laps and laughing easily at bad jokes and old memories and stories from the night.

"Peeta!" Johanna yelled from her spot on the floor. She inhaled deeply from the joint that someone rolled until she couldn't breathe. "My darling Peeta, where are yooooou?"

"I didn't bring any cheesebuns," he called from the kitchen.

"Damnit. How did you know?"

He popped his head out and winked at her. "Don't think I don't know what you use me for, JoJo." Peeta mixed himself another drink and knocked his shoulder against mine. "Having fun?"

I shrugged. "Parties were never really my thing."

He smirked. "Not exactly a social butterfly?"

"Not exactly." I took another drink, letting the liquid run through my achy body. "I only know Annie and she's busy with everyone else."

"You know me," he said with a sly smile. I gave him a look and snorted. "Okay, well, you can get to know me," he continued, "If you want. What's your favorite color?"

"My favorite color?"

"Yeah. I think a person's favorite color tells a lot about them."

I twisted my lips but he eventually won me over. "Green. Dark green. Like a forest."

"You're a nature girl. Or obsessed with money," he winked, making me grin.

"What about you?" I shot back.

He gave a heavy sigh, as if it was such an inconvenience to be asked the same question he asked me. "Orange."

"You would be a pumpkin kind of guy."

Peeta just looked at me as I gulped down the rest of my drink to hide my nervousness. "You think I'm an obnoxious orange kind of guy? Oh, Katniss, you have so much to learn. No. Orange like a sunset, mixed with reds and pinks and yellows."

I watched his face as he continued to paint a picture of his favorite color. He was so intense but soft and he looked like he was in a dream of his own. "That's much more intense than 'green'," I joked, swirling my empty cup around. "What are you, like an artist or something?"

"Or something. You want some more?"

I glanced down at my empty cup, then out at the scene in front of me. "Lead the way."

Peeta and I spent the next few hours sitting on the kitchen floor talking. Every so often people would come in and join the conversation for a few minutes while they were refilling drinks, but for the most part, it was just the two of us. Never once was there a lull, and Peeta was perfectly at ease dominating the conversation, yet asking questions at the right time to keep me included. I was never one for major socialization, but between my exhaustion, the rum, and Peeta, it felt completely natural.

"Peeta? Ena's looking for you," Gloss, the other blonde security guy mentioned, when he came in to get another drink.

Peeta rolled his eyes. "Of course she is." He lifted himself off the floor and held his hand out for me. "Come on. I'm not facing the beast alone."

I nervously followed him into the hazy living room. Clearly there had been at least one additional joint rolled and smoked in the time we spent in the kitchen. The entire apartment had the sweet and musky scent of weed and everyone in the living room was just a little more relaxed than just alcohol could produce. As soon as the dark skinned girl with long brown hair and dangerous teeth sat up, Peeta shifted behind me to hold onto my hip. It caught me off guard - only one man had ever touched me so intimately before - but I allowed it. His hand was warm and the exposed skin between my shirt and shorts pucked up under his touch.

"Hey, Peeta," Enobaria cooed. Her eyes were bloodshot but stuck to him with laser-like focus. "I haven't seen you all night."

"I've been getting to know our newest member. Have you met Katniss, Ena?" His grip on my hip tightened and he pulled me slightly closer to his side.

She looked over at me and curled her lips back into a snarled smile. "The new bartender, right? I heard you tried to break up a fight tonight."

I shrugged. "It wasn't that big of a deal," I muttered.

"It was stupid," she shot back. "Cash and Jo are vicious. You put yourself in the middle of an intense feud."

"Hey!" Johanna called, sitting herself up on her elbows. "Cashmere and I aren't even the worst ones. Huh, Cashmere?" A pale arm shot up in agreement, which Johanna tried to reach for but ended up just collapsing back onto the floor. "See?"

Enobaria just glared at Johanna. "Still. You need to learn your place, Braids."

As she turned her attention back to Peeta, my hands went to my messy braid. Annie may have said this was like a family but I couldn't imagine any family member acting like that. I tried to pull away, but I felt Peeta's hand anchor me near him. I tried to block out their conversation and focused on my drink instead, which went down way too easily as Enobaria's increasingly aggressive attempts to pull Peeta onto the couch with her continued.

I rested my head on Peeta's shoulder and sighed heavily. "I'm thirsty," I said quietly.

He looked over at me and grinned. "Okay. Let's get you another drink." He pulled away from the couch and led me back toward the kitchen. "Thank you," he said once we were out of sight of Enobaria. "Sober Ena is tolerable as long as you stay on her good side. Get some drinks into her and she's way too intense for me."

"She's tolerable?" I asked, pouring way too much rum into my empty cup. "Oops." I stared at my cup and twisted my lips. Shrugging, I took a large gulp of the stuff with no chaser and slammed the cup down. "Because she seems like a bitch."

"You're new and pretty and they're still getting used to you," he explained.

Somehow I knew that was the case. Annie already told me that it took time for some of them to get used to newbies but...wait..."What?" I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if it was that double (or triple) shot of rum I just took that made me hear what I heard.

"You're new and they're getting used to you," he repeated, focusing his attention on filling our cups with more mixer than rum. He handed me my cup. "What?"

"You said 'pretty.'"

"Nope."

I grinned at the blush that worked its way from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. "Well thanks. You know...for not hating the new girl."

He clinked his cup against mine and we both drank. We spent the rest of the night together, both purposely ignoring the growing tension between us.

My schedule at the club became pretty regular over the next few weeks. Three days off, four days on; always off on Sundays, always on on Fridays and Saturdays. Annie and I traded weekday shifts so neither of us were forced to work three day weekends every week. Which meant I got to spend every other day back at home with my sister. She complained initially about not getting to see me over the weekend, but once school started up, she spent more time with her own friends than she ever would have with me. Instead, we devoted one night during the week to sister time and do whatever she wanted. Sometimes that meant going shopping and actually buying new clothes or heading to the arcade in district 3. But most weeks it was just pizza and a movie rental, a treat we never could afford when we were younger. If I was being honest, those were my favorite nights. Don't get me wrong, I would never deny my baby sister anything she wanted, but just being able to out with her made me feel more justified with where I was working.

I can't remember what spurred the initial question, but I do know that I had just taken too big a bite of pepperoni pizza when Prim asked, "Why did you stop putting on shows for us?"

I remembered the pizza because I burnt the top of mouth so badly, it felt like layers of skin were peeling off. The question just came out of nowhere; it wasn't like we were watching some Disney movie that was more singing than dialogue. "What?"

"I just…" Prim put the slice of pizza she had been working on down. "I don't have a lot of memories of Dad. Or Mom before she...you know...but I remember you used to sing and dance and perform. I remember it being really special. And you were really good."

"How do you remember that? You were just a kid."

She shrugged. "It was a good memory, I guess."

And there, sitting across from me, wasn't my seventeen year old sister who was in her last year of high school and preparing to go college and then med school. Sitting there was the seven year old who lost her father and mother at the same time; a child whose childhood was ripped away from her no matter how hard I tried to piece it back together. I set my own slice down and sighed. "I don't know, Duck. It was hard. For me and Mom."

"It was hard for me too, you know," she answered quietly. "I just wanted us to be normal again. I wanted you to be normal again. To be happy."

I felt my eyes prick with tears and I sucked in my cheeks to try and stop them from falling. "I am happy now that I can take care of you."

Prim scoffed. "I know. And I'm grateful, Katniss, I really am. It's just...you've always done things for me; to protect me or care for me. But you never took care of yourself. Even now, you're making so much money and you only spend it on things I want." She looked up at me, her eyes rimmed red. "I want you to be really happy. Like you were then."

I couldn't look at her when she was like that. My genius, intuitive sister who had always been able to see right through me. She knew when I would give her my share of dinner or would patch up her clothing before my own or gave up what little money I scrounged up so she could go with her friends. Instead, I shifted my attention to the basement door.

"Prim…" I say quietly, taking a deep, shaky breath. "Do you want me to teach you how to dance?"

I always knew my younger sister was smarter than I ever was. The first night in the basement was harder than I ever imagined and it took at least half an hour before I was really able to move without ending with tears streaming down my face. Prim called it catharsis, the little know-it-all. Whatever it was, it helped. And slowly yet surely, I was back into a familiar rhythm. It was strange - as used to physical labor as I was, dancing definitely worked muscles I completely forgot existed. I was thankful for my slower weekday shifts because I was able to stretch and loosen up behind the bar and still move around to keep my legs warm.

I started paying more attention to the girls on those slower nights, to their legs and arms and body movements, trying to figure out how to do them on my own later. It was harder than I expected, keeping my legs straight and strong for even a fraction of the time they did and my arms, though strong, didn't have nearly the stamina I thought they did. But I didn't dance for stamina or strength, I danced for that catharsis.

Prim said she could see the difference in my demeanor immediately but I'm pretty sure she just saw what she wanted to. There was nothing really different about me except that I spent my free time in the basement rather than my room or on the hiking trails right outside of town.

Nights at the club got easier.

I opened my first bank account when Peeta found out I was hiding my money in a box at the back of my closet. We grew closer to one another, and he became my unofficial security guy, walking me to the bus stop when we worked the same shifts, and we stuck close together at the weekend parties. Part of me wanted desperately to tell Peeta about me dancing again, but another part didn't. It was just for me, for my own happiness. And something told me Peeta would have the same reaction as Prim did - like it would forever change my life for the better. As I got to know Peeta, the more I realized his sunny optimistic act was who he was, minus the act.

Annie gave me funny looks whenever we'd walk into work together but I never understood why. We were friends, we came from the same district, although Peeta was a few years older than me and came from the Merchant's Quarters, a high end part of town where Madge lived, but admitted that now that he had his own place, he never went back to 12. Like Finnick had been to her, Peeta was a familiar part of home that made me feel more at ease in this new world. He introduced and helped me ease my way into the Victor's Village family, which was still troublesome with most of the dancers, but at least better than it was when I started. Enobaria still didn't like me, but Annie said that was par for the course.

"It took me about six months before she stopped looking like she was going to rip my throat out," she admitted. "She still scares the shit out of me even if we are closer now. You'll know when you're on her good side."

I wasn't sure what the hell that was supposed to mean but, like everything else, I took her word for it and tried not to let the icy glares or snide remarks get under my skin. From her or any other dancer. While most had lessened their negative views of me, it was clear I was still the outsider. And they had no intention of allowing me in their inner circle anytime soon. The security boys took me under their wing, partially because of Annie's good word and my friendship with Peeta, which I suppose suited me just fine. I listened in on their conversations at the parties. Girl talk - opinions on clothes, hair, and makeup - stuff I've never been any good at.

For a couple of months, we had our usual routine. On-and-off work schedule, home in-between, long, crazy, busy weekends followed by afterparties on a rotating schedule. They all lived in amazing apartments; spacious, richly decorated, seemingly designed around their own personality. Finnick and Annie shared a coastal decor but Finnick's favored the fishing industry more than the shoreline. Johanna's looked like you stepped into a dense forest in the Pacific Northwest, Cashmere and Gloss shared an apartment (but would be the first to object to any speculation of dating or sex) that was dripping in opulence like I had never seen. Peeta's was my favorite, by far. Rich and decadent, sure, but had the most rustic feel of them all. Warm wood floors and brick walls were accented by vintage furniture and hand-crafted art. The kitchen was far more expansive and well-used than any of the others, which accounted for the freshly baked bread smell that permeated every corner of the space.

It was my favorite place to be and where I found myself crashing most nights I stayed in the district. Annie didn't say anything about it to anyone else, even though I knew by the looks she and Finnick would throw our way when I crawled out of the taxi at Peeta's apartment rather than taking the full trip to Annie's, that they thought there was more going on. They'd be disappointed to know that more often than not, by the time we made our way up to Peeta's top floor apartment, I'd crash on the couch and he barely made it to his own bed before falling asleep. Even if we wanted to, neither of us had the energy for extracurricular activities.

After one particular night, not that there was anything particularly special about it, Haymitch made a rare appearance and told us we could stay put for the night, that he was hosting the after hours and all the drinks were on him. "I guess it's finally back to me," he mumbled, waving his hand over his head and retreating back into his office. "Don't break anything. Or make me regret this."

Peeta and Johanna headed up into the sound equipment room to put on music that wasn't the pop/r&b/remix music that we listened to every night, but was still a good mix of chill and dance music. The security boys hopped behind the bar to grab whatever we wanted to drink and after a while, even Haymitch rejoined us. I sat at a table with Peeta, watching the others get up on stage and dance with each other. He pulled my legs into his lap, slipped my shoes off and started rubbing the soles of my feet.

"You can just never stop doing that," I told him, letting my head rest against the back of the chair.

He laughed, "I don't know, Everdeen, turnabout's fair play. And I can't make any promises about the nature of my feet."

I crinkled my nose and kicked my legs at him. Haymitch joined us, plopping down in the chair next to me with a tumbler full of white liquor that smelled way too strong to be any vodka we had in back. "Fitting in, Sweetheart?"

I shrugged. "I suppose."

He barked out a laugh and looked over at Peeta, who raised his eyebrows but said nothing. "You're lucky this one's been taken in by you. He's helping your likeability rating."

I scowled. I was likeable enough. Enough for this job anyway. "I don't need allies," I spat.

"You do if you want to stay alive," Haymitch answered cryptically. "Stick with Sunshine and you'll be fine."

"Like you know so much about being likeable." In the time I had been at the club, I'd only seen Haymitch on the floor a handful of times and speaking to even fewer people. Most of the time, he did a sweep of the floor, drinking his pungent white liquor, scowling and ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him. I often wondered how such an unapproachable man could run such a successful club for so long.

He just laughed again and took another drink. Peeta gave my feet a light squeeze and I relaxed. It was an easy night, with drinks flowing and no real tension to speak of. Maybe it was Haymitch's presence with us, maybe it was because we were still at work and felt the need to be on our best behavior, I didn't know, but I wasn't about to complain.

After a few rounds of too-strong of drinks and a few shots of Haymitch's choice, nothing was off limits. Which for Johanna meant stripping down to her bra and panties because, in her words "she wanted to breathe without being sexualized." Apparently all the employees had seen enough of the dancers' bodies to not even be phased by them anymore. The same could not be said for me so the first time she stood near me, her nearly bare breasts right at my eye level, I did everything I could to stay focused anywhere else.

Unfortunately for me, she joined us at the table to talk to Peeta. The two were close, apparently, and had an easy back and forth, completely ignoring my apparent discomfort. At least, I thought they were ignoring me until the conversation dropped completely and I looked up to see them all staring at me, holding in laughter. "What?"

"Don't want to talk to us, Braids?" Johanna asked.

I shrugged. I didn't want to talk to her, especially when she was dressed like that. Everyone else kept their clothes on. Maybe she should have packed more comfortable clothes if jeans and a t-shirt were too much for her.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

She was pushing me. I looked over at Peeta who was failing miserably at his attempts to keep a straight face. I kicked his leg with my heel.

"What?" He laughed, rubbing at his thigh. "What did I do?"

Johanna stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. "Leave little Peetakins alone, Braids. It's not his fault you're so pure and innocent."

I scowled. There may be nothing wrong with being innocent and pure but the way she said it, with such condescension dripping from her tongue, that sparked a flame of irritation inside me. "It's cute that you think I'm so pure."

She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Then why are you so uncomfortable with your own body? That's a sure sign of pristine innocence."

I looked down at my attire. In my tinier-than-normal shorts and redesigned t-shirt, I was exposing more skin right now than anyone but her. "I dress just as provocatively as Annie. As any of you when you're not on stage."

Peeta smirked. "She doesn't mean your attire is innocent, Katniss."

I snapped my head in his direction. "Excuse me?"

He shrank slightly at my tone, "I'm just saying...she meant…"

"I meant," Johanna interrupted, saving poor Peeta from my impending wrath for defending her, "that you may dress the part, but you don't belong here. We love our bodies, we love showing them off, we're proud of the effect we have on people. You hide and pretend like wearing skimpy clothes means the same thing. I can be covered head to toe and still be more at home in my skin than you are."

"You don't know that," I answered, secretly wondering how the hell she did know that. I worked all my life to build up a sense of confidence about myself only to have the facade completely shot down by a half-naked woman I've only had one conversation with.

She laughed. "I do. It's who you are, there's nothing wrong with it. But you should accept that if you're going to keep working here, you're going to be the outsider. And not just because you're new."

I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth as she shrugged and sauntered off. "Hey," Peeta said, giving my foot a shake. "Don't stress about Johanna. She's just trying to get a reaction out of you."

I shook my head, rolling my eyes at the same time. "Whatever."

"Hey," he pulled my foot closer to him, "seriously. You don't have to prove anything to her. If you say you're not pure then you're not."

I pulled both of my legs out of his lap. "Even you don't believe me! Everyone here thinks, what? That I have to get up on stage and do what they do in order to be good enough to work here. Like it's so hard to dance and take your clothes off." I scoffed. "I could do what they do."

"Careful, Sweetheart," Haymitch warned with a sly grin.

"No," I protested. "Seriously. I could do that. I could get up there and dance and spin around a pole and take my clothes off. I could."

"Dare you, Brainless!" Johanna called from another table, a cheshire smile on her face, as if that's what she had been planning the whole time. "We'll even let you pick the song if you want. Since it's so easy."

That caught the attention of everyone and all eyes fell on me. Oh fuck me.

"You don't have to prove anything, Katniss," Peeta whispered. "No one is going to judge you for not going through with it. No one will think less of you."

But that was just it, I realized. They would think less of me. I would think less of me because Johanna had been absolutely correct in her assessment of me. I envied those girls because of how comfortable they were with their bodies and sexuality. I never lived that part of my life because I was too busy being an adult for Prim. Relationships in general took a backseat in my life with the exception of a two year relationship with a childhood friend that ended in complete disaster.

As I stared at the stage, with the silver pole shining in the middle, I knew that I needed it. I needed it for myself more than for anyone else. "Black Coffee," I told him, "Peggy Lee's version."

Peeta stared at me but eventually relented, heading back to the sound booth to find the song I knew he had because I put it on his ipod. I walked up to the now-deserted stage but was stopped by Annie's arm reaching out to grab me.

"Katniss. Are you really going to do this?" I nodded my response and she smiled. "Good. Remember - make sure your hands are dry and the pole is clean. Don't do anything crazy and don't try to flip upside down. Follow your body's lead - your brain is going to tell you to stop but your body knows what to do."

"You think I can do this?" I asked, surprised by her advice.

Her smile widened. "I think you can prove Johanna wrong." She slapped my ass and started whooping when I climbed the side stairs.

I stood up on stage, wiping my hands on my shirt, and gripping the pole the way I had seen the girls do before. I kept my eyes closed and took a deep breath. I imagined myself down in my basement, with no one watching me. The opening bars of "Black Coffee" came over the speaker and I began to rock my hips in time. The words flowed over me and my head dropped to spin, flipping my hair. My hands went to the end of my braid and pulled the tie loose, letting all my hair down in soft waves.

Holding onto the pole, walking on my tiptoes, I began walking in circles, running my other hand through my hair. Sometimes I would spin so my back was against the pole and I'd drop so my knees were at a 90 degree angle. Other times, I'd extend my legs out, holding myself up with my arms, which were shaking already. Spinning and dropping were two things I knew I could do easily enough but I also knew it wouldn't be enough. I would need to do something more.

As I walked around, I opened my eyes and saw Annie in the front, making a spinning circle with her finger and mouth something to me. I nodded, knowing what she was saying. I'd have to do an actual pole move. An image of something I saw Johanna doing that night popped into my head and I worked out the mechanics of it in my head easily enough. Trust your body, that's what Annie told me. And I would need to, because the idea of spinning around the pole with just my arms and legs holding on made my brain want to bail.

I extended my left leg out and brought it in, using my momentum to spin around the pole. I brought both legs straight out in front of me, keeping the pole gripped between my thighs. As I neared the floor, I let my right leg down first, toes brushing against the floor, then bent my knee so my toes were facing backward. I leaned back, using my hands to help stabilize me until my back was against the stage floor. I brought both knees up in front of me and let my feet slide up and down the pole before rolling onto my stomach. I saw how the girls usually got up from the floor and figured it would be good enough for me, so I led with my ass in the air, dragging my chest along the floor until I was sitting on my feet. One more hair flip as the song came to a close and I finally braved myself to look out into the crowd.

"I think Sweetheart may be looking at a job change if she wants it," I heard Haymitch tell Peeta, who was back at the table. His eyes were dark and locked onto mine and I felt my stomach flutter in a way that I knew wasn't from the adrenaline racing through my body. Everyone cheered, even Enobaria, who looked like it was taking everything out of her to congratulate me. Johanna stood up and whistled, confirming my suspicion about her intentions. I took a deep breath and stood, giving a little bow and bounding down the stairs.

"I did good?" I asked Peeta.

His pupils were thick and only a sliver of his blue iris was showing. "I never knew you could move like that," he answered huskily. My tongue slipped out to wet my dried lips and I swear I could hear a slight groan from his chest. For the rest of the night, I was more accepted by everyone but could feel his eyes on me, no matter where I was or who I was talking to.

AN: This was my FF4Ls submission this year. There will be four parts (updated once a week). Thanks to everyone who supported me through this and to my wonderful pole instructor for teaching me so many moves. This isn't necessarily realistic of what happens at these clubs but it's my story so I say it's okay ;)

Let me know your thoughts, I'd love to hear them.