Hey guys! Cupcake here with a brand new story in the Huger Games fandom! This idea has been in my head for a while now and I decided I wanted to share it with all of you. I take requests and I will do the best to implement your ideas into my story. Along for the ride is my fabulous beta, . If you've read my previous stories, she's a fun-loving, free-wheeling grammar Nazi who is also a great writer. All of her fans [myself included] are excited about her new story How To Save A Life. While you're waiting for her ridiculously long update time, check out her previous story Glad You Came. This is a SAD Percabeth fic that involves an anorexic dancing Annabeth [le gasp]. It's very well done and I'm sure she would appreciate some reviews, so take it from me and CHECK HER OUT.
This story is in both Katniss and Peeta POV's, and if you've read my other stories there WILL be FLUFF. This first chapter is only in Peeta POV but Katniss is up next. This will be a long story, so hop on the Cupcake Cruise for a good time. This story is rated K+ for not so graphic abuse and some occasional language. NO F-bombs, but you know they are teenagers living a hard life, so it's not all rainbows and sunshine. I'd say if your over eight you should be fine. In this story Peeta is like Katniss in the sense that he feels emotionally detached from most social situations and that he'd rather be alone. Katniss is slightly more outgoing and friendly, specifically towards Peeta. She's more open about her talent, but not cocky at all. I wanted to write a school story that actually meant something but still had that casual feel to it, especially because it is told in the POV of Katniss and Peeta. There are no Hunger Games but the districts are more or less the same.
Be sure to check out my review on Percy Jackson and The Olympians: The Sea Of Monsters. In Theaters August 7th, starring Logan Lerman and Alexandra Daddario. According to beaner. weener, it's funny but you'll have to see for yourself.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. If I did, I would be middle-aged and definitely NOT writing fanfiction. I don't own Katniss Everdeen. If I did, I would jump for joy and then kill her for…reasons. I don't own Peeta Mellark, if I did, he would be a married man, and I'm not talking about Katniss, guys.
MEET PEETA MELLARK
To some degree, I've always felt like I didn't belong. Whether it was at school or at home, I always felt removed, out of place, although others saw the opposite. They saw the popular wrestler, with tons of friends, good grades, and the perfect life. The baker's son, with no worries of starvation or illness. They saw Peeta Mellark, the persona, but I never really felt like anyone knew me. If they did, my façade would crumble. I would lose everything. The false life and reputation I have carefully built up over the years would all come crashing down, and would lose the comfort of being thought of being normal, even though I know I'm not. See, I have a secret.
I love photography.
Ok, go ahead, point your fingers. But sometimes, when things get bad with my mom [we'll revisit this ticking time bomb later], all I want to do is create the perfect picture. The beauty and simplicity of a good photograph is sometime enough to mask my pain.
I've always related to the camera. It stands all alone, by itself, capturing moments of passion, love, and happiness but never actually experiencing the joy of anything. All it gets is tiny, blissful moments of borrowed kindness, encased in hardworking, unattractive hardware that's covered by perfectly shiny aluminum. And you can just tell by the quick whirl of its gears that it wants to get out and just feel. Anguish and sorrow and pain, but also love and light. But it can't. It's trapped in its own taunting, cruel prison, until one day it just can't take it anymore. It dies. Completely loses its purpose and just shuts down, taking all the carefree smiles and goofy faces with it. I was constantly looking at life through a camera lense, detached from the rest of the world.
The one thing I wanted, more than Katniss Everdeen [yet another enigma of my life], was the C.A.M.P scholarship. Creative Arts Music and Performance. The recipients were sent to study their art of choice at Panem University, the best school for the arts in the entire world. They trained under the best career and life coaches known to man, Effie Trinket and Hamitch Abernathy. Free housing and talent agents are also provided with the deal. If you're picked, there's pretty much a guarantee you're gonna get rich and famous. I'm applying, as well as hundreds of other from my hometown, District 12. My major is photography and cinematography, with a minor in painting, as I enjoy that as well. When you apply, the applications are sent to the Capitol, the center of Panem. Effie and Haymitch read and views them all, and six are selected from each district, boiling down to 72 fiercely competitive, talented young artists. They work together everyday, and each one is partnered up with another. The idea of the pairs is that each one goes together, say a singer and guitair player. Most branch off on their own after the program ends, but a few stick together their entire careers. Romantic relationships are common, as Effie is quite the matchmaker, but they don't usually last. I know that many are applying, but I don't know what for. But Katniss Everdeen is applying for singing, with a minor in dancing and modeling. My greatest dream is to be partnered with her, to paint and film and photograph to my hearts content.
Katniss Everdeen. The one constant in my turbulent existence. I first saw her when we were in the same kindergarten class, and I was immediately in love. Her mom used to be in love with my dad, but when she met Jack Everdeen, it was over between them. Katniss got her beautiful voice from him, because when he sang, the birds stopped to sing.
Her father died when she was eleven and her mother started watching Looney Tunes soon after. She has a younger sister, Primrose, who she supports by herself with her job at the local cabaret, The Hob. Primrose dances beautifully and is also applying for C.A.M.P. Katniss lives in the poorest part of the district, the Seam, but she has the voice of an angel, can dance like Ginger Rogers, and has a beautiful [although somewhat gaunt] body. She sings at all of our assemblies, and she is truly enchanting. Everyone says she sounds like a mockingjay, this really rare bird that can echo back songs and phrases if they like them. Her stage presence is fantastic, giving off this "look at me" air, but not in that super obvious way. The only time where I feel truly safe and comfortable at school is when she's on stage, performing her heart out at afternoon assembly. And she feels the same. She always smiles shyly at me in the halls, but our only personal interaction was when we were both eleven.
Her father had just passed away, and she was in a bad way. Her mom was checked out and she had a six year old to take of with no source of income. She was walking by the bakery, trying to sell some ragged old baby clothes, when I heard her cries as the rain beat down on her shivering form. My mother had just walked in when I impulsively dropped the bread, thinking of Katniss 's beautiful voice going hoarse from lack of food or water. She looked at me and then at the now scorched bread. After yelling at me 'till I was shaking, she told me to go feed it to the pigs we kept outside the bakery. When I saw staring longingly at the unwanted bread, I couldn't bear throwing it to the pigs, who were getting more food than she was at that point, while she was sitting there, desperately hungry for a better life. So I threw her the bread quickly and not very accurately. But I didn't have time to linger, for my mother had been watching me throw away the bread, as if she was afraid I would mess that up too. She gave me a stern look and proceeded to pull me back inside by my collar. I got one of the worst beatings of my life that day. I had to stay home a full week from school, which really killed me because I couldn't check on Katniss.
The day I got back, I saw here singing in the streets, to a very large crowd, I might add. That's when I knew my mockingjay would be alright.
Although my relationship with my mother was toxic, and my brothers weren't much better, my dad was my best friend. He taught me how to bake and how to love. My father is probably the reason I'm not so bitter after all these years of constant abuse. He taught me that you just have to fight fire with fire. Kill their hate with love. I had nothing but good things to say about my mother, even if they weren't true. And I told her every day, how pretty she looked, how nice she was, what a great Mom she was to us kids. She hated me even more for it. It became sort of a coping mechanism for me, rather than defense. So I started to implement it into my every day life. That's why they all love me. Because of my kindness. And it may seem like I'm tooting my own horn here, but I really don't think being nice is all that great. Incredible, inspirational people didn't climb their way to the top because they were nice. They made it 'cause they were good enough to. Katniss certainly didn't get to where she is today by being the most angelic girl around. She got there with work.
So I try to do as much as I can to be exactly like her. Because honestly, other than my dad, she feels like the only person out there I can truly worship. When I look at her, I see a strong, beautiful, independent woman who doesn't need anyone. She doesn't even have friends, now that her best friend Gale is out of school. And I've seen what he's like. Needless to say, I can't help but feeling lonely for her, even though I know she doesn't mind. She just looks so bare. Not like plain, bare. But bare in the way that she doesn't have anybody to look after her. I long to be that person, the one she turns to in times of need, when she just can't take it anymore. But I know she'd never let anyone take care of her, especially me. That's why I want her to be my partner, if we both make it. So I can take care of her. And she of me. I think since the bread incident, we both felt the obligation to not necessarily take care of one another but to keep tabs on each other, look out for each. Simple things like helping cleaning up a mess, or standing up to my friends, or even the occasional smile I get from her can brighten my day or my week even. When I get sad, I think about the little moments we shared, and what I can do to make them more. And then I get happy.
So there it is, guys. Tell me what you thought of this chapter!
-Cupcake
