Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
Other Side of the Tracks
Gale's parents' house is just one of hundreds of identical ones, cookie cutter and a step above shanty buildings, built during the Second World War for the hundreds of families that flooded the area when there'd been an air base.
The base was long gone, dismantled as an unnecessary relic, but the houses remained. Cheap, available housing for the poorest of the District.
Madge has never been in one of the houses, never set foot on the old base land where most of the District workers lived. She'd been lucky enough to be born on the right side of the tracks, the best side of the tracks, better than most even. The side with multicar garages, too many rooms in the house, a Country Club with a pool, and a golf course in the back yard.
Her life has been a far cry from the street with a flickering orange security light and no sidewalks.
She presses her hands onto her skirt, smoothes out a few nonexistent wrinkles, checks her blouse, she would die of embarrassment if a button had popped and she didn't notice. What a first impression, flashing her bra at Gale's parents.
"You don't think I overdressed do you?"
His eyebrows arch up, "I always think you're overdressed."
She shoots him a withered look. This really isn't the time for that.
"I'm serious, Gale. I don't want them to think I'm, I don't know, putting on airs or something."
He bangs his forehead against the steering wheel, "They're going to love you. Stop worrying."
That was easy for him to say. Impressing her parents only took showing up. Her mother was a bit of a lush, loved Gale from the moment Madge uttered the word 'boyfriend' and her father was too busy to notice anything past that Gale was present.
From the way Gale spoke about them, Madge was going to have to do a little more than smile and nod to get their approval. He was their oldest, the first in their family to go to college, all their hopes and aspirations were riding on him. They wouldn't want just some silly little rich girl wasting his time.
He takes her hand, gives it a reassuring squeeze, then pulls her out of the truck cab, into the chilly December air.
There's a little bit of snow on the ground, Madge's heels are woefully inadequate for trudging up the little walkway from the covered part of the drive to the front door.
The house has peeling paint, the shutters on the front window are missing. There's a firewood stand, metal poles welded together to support the chopped blocks of wood, pushed up against the side of the house. Towards the back she spots a window unit jutting out of one of the rooms.
She grins up at the frosted looking multicolored lights that Gale had told her he and his brothers had put up the weekend before. There's a cheap plastic Santa in a sled with all eight tiny plastic reindeer and Rudolph cheerfully taking off from the roof and a dimly lit snowman in the overgrown flowerbed under the living room window.
"Biggest pain in the ass, putting those bastards up," Gale had grumbled about the decorations. "And I almost pushed Rory off the roof. I swear he's more obnoxious everytime I go home."
Madge's parents had always paid someone to put up their lights. She'd go to school one morning and come home to perfectly positioned clear white lights on the roof. No tacky decorations or colors, just the barest of basics to show they did celebrate the season.
The tree, just as tall as Gale, glows through the front window. It's real; Gale had mentioned going to buy it with his siblings. Tinsel and homemade decorations adorn it, a little wildly. Both things were forbidden in her house. The housekeeper wouldn't let Madge touch the tree and only pristine store bought items could go on it. Tinsel was far too messy, it wouldn't've made it past the front door of her house.
Gale doesn't knock, just pushes the door open and pulls Madge into the room.
"I'm here!"
The living room is cramped, but cozy in a strange way, smells of firesmoke and roast. The couch is threadbare, beaten down from what must've been a couple of decades of use. A hideous orange recliner sits in the corner, just as worn as the sofa. An ancient television is playing a special, the little girl in front squeals and lunges at Gale's ankles, nearly taking him down.
"You came back!"
Gale reaches down and hoists her up, "You act like I don't come home every weekend."
"It feels like forever," she puts her hands to her hips and gives him an exasperated glare. After a moment she notices Madge. Her nose wrinkles, "Who are you?"
"Posy, this is Madge, remember I told you I was bringing someone with me to dinner?"
Posy clearly isn't impressed with the dinner guest, "I thought you meant like Thom."
A woman, Gale's mother, comes out of the small kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She smiles warmly when she sees Madge.
"Momma, Gale brought a girl!" Posy shoots Madge a dirty look.
Mrs. Hawthorne smiles a little brighter, "I can see that."
She strides the short distance and takes Madge's hand, "Oh it's so good to finally meet you, dear. Gale's told us so much about you."
Gale's mother is so warm Madge almost forgets Posy's hostile reception.
A pair of dark haired boys pop out from around the corner to the kitchen, they look a little puzzled by Madge's presence. The younger one grins, a little lopsidedly, and waves his hand, potato masher and all. His brother makes a face when a bit of the spuds fall off and land on his shirt. "God, Vick, get it together."
Vick's face gets considerably darker and he vanishes back into the kitchen. The other brother, he must be Rory, rolls his eyes before following after him.
The front door opens again and a blast of icy wind whips through their clothes. A man, Gale's height, in a heavy pair of coveralls and a dark coat comes in, carrying an armful of wood.
"Got us some more kindling," he tells them through his scarf. He deposits the firewood in the corner, across from the wood burning stove and starts to take off his coat before he even notices Madge. His hand reaches up, pulls his scarf from his mouth, revealing a stubbly beard and a bright smile. Madge can see where Gale got his good looks from. "Well, hello there."
"I'm Madge," Madge puts her hand out.
He takes her hand in his gloved one, "Well you are a pretty one, aren't you?"
Madge feels a blush creep onto her face.
"Yeah, you are," Rory has reappeared from the kitchen. His nose wrinkles up as he looks at Gale, "Why the hell are you dating Gale?"
"Rory," his father gives him a sharp look. "Watch your mouth."
Rory nods, "I'm sorry. Why the hell are you dating Gale, ma'am?"
Madge has never seen two parents look more exasperated with a child than Gale's do with Rory in that moment.
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Dinner is around the tiny table in the add-on of the house.
Madge remembers many a meal around the lonely little table in her family's breakfast nook. The formal dining room was rarely used, except during parties and when her mother got a wild hair.
The Hawthornes only had one table, one area, for meals.
They don't have 'good' china or 'fine' silverware, or even a complete set of what they did have from what Madge could tell. The plates are faded and chipped, the silverware is mismatched. Posy is eating, glaring at Madge, with a plastic fork and spoon that Madge is certain came from a cereal box. They changed color with the heat of her food.
Mrs. Hawthorne doesn't have serving sets, just plops the food down on the table in whatever she'd cooked it in.
It's much more practical, Madge decides, much less messy than moving the food to a special bowl just for the sake of making it pretty. It's just going to be eaten after all.
After a little showdown with Posy, who felt Madge needed to sit as far from Gale as possible, between Rory and Vick, something Gale was adamantly against, things go smoothly. They get halfway through dinner, making pleasant conversation, before Rory decides to let his personality, something Gale had warned Madge about, shine through.
"So is Gale, like, paying you off to be his girlfriend or something?"
"Rory!" His mother's jaw drops as she looks at him. "You-Why would you ask something like that?"
He frowns, "Yeah, you're right, Gale hasn't got any money." A little grin forms on his mouth, he wags his eyebrows, "I bet I can guess what he's paying you off with."
Madge knows she's scarlet. Her face is burning. Gale makes a threatening noise next to her.
His father points his fork at his son, "Rory, go to your room."
"No," his mother shakes her head, "he'll enjoy that." She gives her son a look, "You're doing the dishes. By yourself."
Judging by the way Rory shrugs, smirks at Gale's glare, he doesn't mind his punishment. He might even feel it's worth it to have embarrassed his older brother.
"I think they dropped him on his head as a baby," Gale grumbles to Madge, stuffing a spoonful of potatoes in his mouth.
"We didn't," his mother sighs.
"Maybe you should have," Gale grunts.
###########################################
When dinner is over, Madge helps clear the table, takes them to the sink where Rory is waiting. Madge glances around the tight space, expecting to see a dishwasher, but finding none.
She feels a little silly, they don't even have central heat and air, so of course they don't have a dishwasher. It's a luxury, even if she's never considered it so.
Carefully she scrapes the few remnants of her dinner from her plate. She'd been careful to eat everything but the gristle from the steak, not wanting to waste any of the family's precious resources.
She hands the plate to Rory, who smirks.
"Really, what's he doing for you?"
Madge snorts, "What makes you think he's doing anything for me?"
Vick comes up behind her, "'Cause you're really pretty, and he's…Gale."
"I don't know if you two are aware of this, but your brother is considered to be pretty attractive." Incredibly attractive.
Vick and Rory exchange a look. Clearly disbelieving.
Finally, Rory grins. That can't be good.
"So, you're just using him for his body?"
Madge barely keeps her face straight, her mouth twitches, "Yeah."
"Lucky bastard."
Vick giggles and Madge loses her composure.
Sensing no good was going down in the kitchen, Gale's mother comes in and gives her sons a narrowed look, "Does Vick need to help with the dishes too?"
Vick quickly shakes his head, grabs Madge by the hand and pulls her out of the kitchen and back into the living room.
"Sit next to me," he pushes her toward the couch. "We're gonna watch 'Christmas Vacation'."
Before she can collapse into the couch, though, Gale catches her other hand, pulls her from Vick's grasp.
"Madge and I have to go. We're supposed to meet Thom and Bristol."
Posy, who'd been cross-legged in front of the television, gets up and stomps her foot. "Why do you have to go? Can't she just leave?"
"Posy." Mr. Hawthorne gives his daughter a sharp look from the recliner, plainly telling her to be nice.
She stomps her foot, flops back down to the ground and juts her bottom lip out.
Gale hands Madge her coat and bids his parents and siblings, a pouting Posy, disappointed Vick, and a smirking Rory, goodbye.
"It was so nice to meet you," his mother tells Madge as she gives her a hug.
"Don't be a stranger," his father winks at her.
When they get to the freezing truck, Gale pulls her to him, presses a kiss to her cheek before whispering into her ear, "So…you're just using me for my body, huh?"
She's glad the light is so sparse, her face is warm again and she doesn't want him to see how embarrassed she is that he heard her little exchange with Vick and Rory.
"Well, of course."
He chuckles, "I'm okay with that."
Madge rolls her eyes, "Uh-huh, bet you are."
Kisses begin peppering her cheek, neck, then back up to her face.
"Gale!" She tries to fight off the giggles his hands, at the junction of her blouse and skirt, are causing. "We are in your parents' driveway."
He grunts, continues to kiss her for a minute longer before sitting back. "Yeah," he glares up at the house, "I bet those little assholes are watching too."
The truck clanks as Gale shifts it into gear, backing out of the driveway and into the street.
"So," Madge presses into his side, trying to siphon off some of his warmth, "where are we meeting your friends?"
A little grin twitches to life on his lips, "Just somewhere off the beaten path."
############################
It was certainly off the beaten path, Madge would give it that.
She's never been this far in the country before.
The bar is poorly lit, most of the lights under the overhang had gone out sometime around the last decade and no one had seen fit to replace them. There's a little window, so covered in soot and grim that it may well have not existed, it's so horribly opaque. A man is passed out on the bench by the heavy riveted entrance, she worries he might be dead until he makes a gurgling noise in his sleep.
Why Gale thought this would be a good place to bring her she didn't know. Probably payback for having him go with her to the Country Club for her neighbor's daughter's wedding reception.
"You'll like it," he tells her as he pulls her from the truck.
She drags her feet a little, trying to avoid the inevitable. The noise is already a little deafening, even through the thin walls of the bar.
When he opens the door she's hit with the stench of cheap booze and cigarettes. The music, something not completely unpleasant, but a little more twangy than she's use to, blares from the banged up juke box in the corner. She didn't even know there werejuke boxes anymore.
Gale drags her across the sawdust covered dance floor, through the already inebriated patrons, to a dimly lit booth in the corner where a couple of people were already waiting.
"Thom, Bristol, this is Madge," he gestures to her then to them, "Madge, this is Thom and Bristol."
Thom, a wiry looking man with foggy, clearly already drunken eyes, gives her a quick up and down, before whistling.
"Prettier than I remember from high school."
Madge gives him a smile and hopes her blush isn't too evident in the pinkish light of the bar.
Bristol, who looks a little rough, rougher than Katniss at least, who'd had just as hard a life, smiles and smacks Thom on the arm, "Stop embarrassing the poor girl."
She grins up at Madge, despite her ragged appearance, she seems genuine as she offers up a basket of something fried and unhealthy looking.
Judging by the overall cleanliness of the establishment, Madge suspects the food is probably only slightly more sanitary than the basket it's served in, and only because its been fried. She doesn't' want to be rude though, these are Gale's friends and this is Gale's comfort zone, if she wants to stand a chance in his life she has to toughen up, be a little braver.
She takes one of the fried objects, bites into it with a grimace. It isn't bad, but she has the horrible feeling she's eating something she'll regret later.
Gale gives Madge a little push, into the booth, sliding in after her, stretching his arm across the back of the tattered faux leather padded seat. Instinctively, Madge leans into him. He's the only known factor in this smelly, dirty place and she wants him as close as she can get him.
"So, first time at the Slag Heap?" Thom asks after another swig of his beer.
Madge arches an eyebrow, glances down at her pale colored dress, blouse, and cardigan, taps her damp pair of Manolo Blahniks on the ground. How did he guess?
"Nope, come here all the time."
He snorts, "Clearly you're a regular."
She gives him a serious nod, "You must just miss me each time."
"Must."
Bristol takes a swig of her beer, "So you met Gale's family." She arches her eyebrows up, "That's some serious stuff."
Madge feels her stomach turn, though whether from the unknown food of from someone pointing out how big a step she'd just taken.
"Big change for you, huh?" Bristol asks kindly, "I mean, this isn't exactly your turf."
Thanks for pointing it out.
Bristol's eyes flicker up and down Madge's outfit, gives her a sad smile.
Madge can't sense any hostility, but she feels a little hurt anyway. She'd thought Bristol was going to be an ally, not another doubter of her ability to adapt.
"Yeah, but, it went well," Madge flashes her brightest smile, she won't let the slight ruin what has otherwise been a good evening.
Gale gets up, "I'll be right back."
A little flicker of worry races through Madge's system, but she keeps her expression calm.
Thom offers her a taste of his beer, and still refusing to be rude, Madge takes the smallest of sips. It's bitter and harsh, she has to force it down and grimace a smile for him.
"Better than the crap they serve at that Club behind the fences, huh?"
Madge really wouldn't know. Her mother might, but Madge tries to avoid the stuff, mostly because of her mother…
Thom looks so thoroughly convinced though, that Madge nods. He beams at her.
A soft song begins, the dancing slows, Madge almost recognizes the tune, is a second away from placing it, when Gale comes back and pulls her from the booth. "Let's dance."
Gale is a terrible dancer, mostly Madge just lets him cling to her while they sway in place.
She puckers her lip, still focusing on the music, when Gale dips in and kisses her. He grins when he pulls back, "So, enjoying yourself?"
As desperately as she wants to make him happy, tell him she is, she can't lie. Her whole life seems so artificial compared to his, so cold and empty, she can't add that to what they have.
"Not really."
She expects him to get annoyed, he'd gone with her to that stupid wedding and only complained a little, but Gale just chuckles, "That's what I thought."
Her nose wrinkles, "What's that mean?"
He grins, "Why'd you make me to the Club with you?"
This was payback. Damn.
"I just wanted to show you off…" She had a handsome boyfriend and she wanted to rub it in those stupid floozies' faces…
Madge narrows her eyes, "Did you bring me here to show me off?"
He kisses her again, pulls her flush to him, "Why the hell else would I bring you to a dump like this?"
A little snort escapes her nose, "Okay, fine, I won't make you go to the Club with me anymore if you promise I don't have to come to anymore places like this."
Gale shakes his head, "Are you kidding? The Club has an open bar. I want to go there as often as possible."
Madge rolls her eyes, "You are so lucky you're cute."
He kisses her again, "I am aren't I?" His mouth turns up, "I'm proud of you though, you ate those calf fries without batting an eyelash."
What?
Her stomach rolls, unquestionably from the fried food this time.
"What did I eat?"
Rude or not, Madge thinks she needs to get back to her side of the tracks, and fast.