A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to my new story! I am truly sorry about not updating in a long time. I had surgery quite recently actually. The surgery prevented me from writing, especially since the area they worked on was on my wrist. Then a few weeks after my surgery, I learned that I had a soft tissue infection so I was hospitalized for a few days. I was released from the hospital this week. Luckily they were able to clear the infection, so now I'm just waiting until my wrist heals. It's been hard trying to type with one hand, but I managed to pull through and write this fanfiction! The next chapter of 'Our Story' will be up soon (hopefully). And I don't know when I will be able to update 'Found you', but I'm hoping I'll get it typed up ASAP.
For now, please enjoy the first chapter of Taking on the Storm (TOTS)!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
"Class is dismissed!" our professor yells. Everyone in our class grabs their stuff and heads out the door, back to their residents. I head straight to my red Volkswagen and call up my boyfriend, Gloss.
"Hello?" A deep, husky voice asks the phone. I love his voice.
"Hey baby," I reply happily as I sit in my car. "I just got out of class. I was wondering if you want to go grab some coffee or something then eat dinner."
"Sure Kat that's fine with me. I have to do something first, but I'll meet you up at Starbucks in Times Square in 30 okay?" he says.
"Alright." Muffled screams rang through the phone.
"Okay babe. I got to go now. See you later. I love you."
"I love you too," I sing and he laughs.
"Wear something sexy okay?" he purrs.
"Anything for you sweetheart," I giggle. Yelling echoes through the phone again.
"Sorry," he apologizes. "I'm coming! Calm your tits Cashmere!" he yells.
"Sister trouble?" I joke.
"Yeah."
"Well don't keep her waiting."
"Anyone can wait if it means getting to spend more time with you for all I care."
"Stop Gloss. You're making my blush," I smile.
"That was the intent.' I imagine him smirking. More shouts rang through the phone.
"I have to go now babe. My sister awaits," he sighs.
"Alright, bye. Love you."
"Love you more," he smiles then hangs up. I put my phone into my purse and take what I need from my car. Then I walk back to the residence hall which is on campus in Juilliard. I enter my room and spot my roommate, Madge, in her pajamas, sitting on her bed reading a magazine. Her long, flowing, blond hair cascades over her broad shoulders.
"Hey!" she greets cheerily, looking up from her magazine.
"Hey," I reply as I set down some of my stuff on my bed. I open up my closet and reach for my favorite outfit that wasn't too fancy or too casual. It consists of a black skater skirt with a nice white blouse.
"Going somewhere?" Madge asks.
"Yeah. Times Square with Gloss." She nods. Then I change and put on a little makeup. Before I head out the door, I slip on a pair black wedges and bid Madge a goodbye.
I clumsily shuffle to my car in my killer heels. They're cute and they make me appear a few inches taller, but they are really difficult to walk in. Managing to get inside my car without tripping, I start the engine and back out of the driveway. Times Square is about a five minute drive from Juilliard.
I finally make my way out of the horrendous traffic of vehicles and pull up into a small parking space. To avoid sitting in the car for awhile, I decide to walk on foot to Starbucks. But before I do that, it wouldn't hurt to stroll around a little bit. I am early anyways.
The amount of people seems to increase the more I pass down the roads. People are causing traffic everywhere. They walk across the street not even bothering to look if the light is green or if a car is present. One woman, who was crossing the street, was almost run over by a taxi.
As I haul to a stop at the corner of the sidewalk, I take in my surroundings. It is a typical day in Times Square. Cars, taxis, and bus fill the large streets creating traffic. There was an occasional honk of a horn and loud cursing when a driver was being stupid; typical New Yorkers. Colors, billboards, lights, and humongous advertisements make the area seem alive and well. Tall buildings tower over my head everywhere I glance. Massive amounts of people are scattered all over the place, walking, socializing, texting, dancing, singing, and admiring the beautiful neon colors of Times Square. Today is busier than normal. I carefully examine everyone's faces. Then my eyes land on someone across the street who is acting very strange. He is wearing some sort of disguise – a pair of sunglasses and a cap – to hide his face from the public's eyes. The man looks around here every once in a while like he's expecting someone to attack him. I squint my eyes to get a better look at him. It was difficult since many people were passing by him.
The man is tall – probably around 6' 2" – and broad-shouldered. He looks around my age, which is 23. His beautiful blond peeks out from underneath his black cap. Classic black Ray-Bans conceal most of his face, which makes it even harder to identify who he is.
I cross the street to get a clearer glance at him. Making sure he doesn't spot me, I slip in through the large crowd that is a few yards away from him. Luckily, everyone in the crowd is too captivated by the mime to move. I look back at him; he hasn't moved from his spot, but now I can see what he's wearing. He wears a simply light blue button down shirt along with dark pants. To complete the outfit, he has a pair of worn down converse. I'm not going to lie; he was stunningly hot. He rolls up his sleeves. Something was on his left arm. I look at it closer, instantly turning pale at what I just saw. No. It couldn't be. I must be imagining things. Staring at it again, the words become clearer. My heart sinks; I'm not imagining things. On the man's arm is a small tattoo that says '3.21.2001.' I only know one person who has a tattoo like that and there possibly can't be another person in this world that does – unless it's a coincidence. Cato Evans, my ex-best friend after he left me and started ignoring my messages, is the owner of that tattoo. He was 16 when he got it. We were facetiming when he revealed it to me. And little did I know, the FaceTime call that I had with him would be the last time we were going to talk to each other.
"Hey Kat," Cato smiles, obviously glad to see me. I stop what I was doing and pick up my phone.
"Hey Cato!" I exclaimed. We haven't spoken to each other in two days. "How's life down in LA Mr. Superstar?"
"Fine. The record deal is working out smoothly. I'm working on my new song," he explains while settling on his bed.
"Oooh! Cool, I'm so happy for you," I answer truthfully.
"So how's your life?" he asks.
"Busy as always. Junior year will be the death of me," I groan. "My teachers seem to enjoy killing us with excessive amounts of homework, quizzes and tests." He laughs. Butterflies pit in my stomach. His laugh is so beautiful.
"Don't die just yet. I still need you," he pleads jokingly
"Alright Cato, but no promises." This causes him to chuckle.
"There's the Katniss I know," Cato jokes. "Hey, wanna see what I got recently?" he asks, changing the subject.
"Sure,' I reply as I doodle on my binder.
"Okay, wait a second," he tells me, sitting up on his bed then flipping his camera. I stop drawing and look at my phone. Something is on his arm. I couldn't see what it is since the camera is still focusing. The image becomes clear and I see a tattoo of numbers that look like a specific date on his arm.
3.21.2001
"It's a date," he smiles. He flips the camera back show I could see his face. I take it in for a moment, just thinking. March 21, 2001. March 21, 2001. I gasp and his laughs when he realizes that I figured it out. March 21, 2001 was when my dad taught Cato and I how to play the guitar. After that, both of us wanted to pursue the music dream. That day changed my life because I finally figured out what I wanted to do.
"March 21, 2001," I whisper, still processing everything. "I can't believe you got a tattoo of that date on your arm. But aren't you underage?" I ask.
"Yes, but my parents allowed me to get one."
"Oh."
"Why?"
"Why, what?" he questions in confusion.
"Why did you get it?"
"That day turned my life around. I finally found a reason to live and to be happy because of music. You know, the world wouldn't be the same without music. It will be almost bland, boring even. Music lets us express ourselves, our feelings, our emotions," he pauses from his speech.
"Okay poet man. You can quit the weird poetry talk," I giggle as I begin drawing shapes again
"Yes mother," he mocks. Then his face turns serious. "Oh shit, speaking of mom. I gotta do something for her." He leaves his phone and his bed and I hear shuffling.
"Then go do it," I reply, still doodling
"Okay, bye. I'll talk to you soon, alright?" His face pops back onto the screen. He holds a lot of things in his hands.
"Kay. Bye Catty. Have fun," I say in a little kid's voice, using my old nickname for him.
"Whatever Kitty-Kat," he rolls his eyes then hangs up.
The man looks my way as my thoughts end. Crap. I duck behind a tall person, hoping he doesn't see him. Peeking behind the man, I see that he's still staring in my direction. He turns away when he loses interest. I inwardly sigh. That was close. I check my phone to see what time it is. Shit. It's almost five. Gloss is probably on his way right now.
Frantically looking around to find the Starbucks, I find out that it's just my luck when the man – who possibly could be my ex-best friend – is standing near the entrance of the store. How come I didn't notice that before? Stupid Katniss, you weren't paying attention. Now I realize that I can't avoid him, he will see when I go through the door. Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the crowd and towards Starbucks as quickly as possible. I keep my head low so he won't see my face. As I approach the door, the man notices me. Fucking fantastic.
"Let me help you ma'am." His low voice sending chills down my spine. That voice belongs to none other than Cato Evans. I play it off cool, pretending to not know who he is. He holds open the door for me. I glance up. He looks even more beautiful from up close. Wait, what?
"Thank you," I force a smile.
"Anything for a beautiful woman like you miss," his wears his signature smirk. I hide my blush by looking down then walk in. The door closes behind me and I glance back. No wonder why he's wearing a hat and sunglasses, he's hiding from the paparazzi. I'm surprised that nobody noticed him yet.
I focus back at what's in front of me. The smell of freshly roasted coffee fills my noses. I close my eyes and take a in a deep breath, enjoying the smell.
"Katniss!" a voice breaks out. Looking in the direction of the voice, my eyes land on Gloss, my amazing boyfriend. I hobble to him.
"Hey baby," I reply. He tenderly kisses me for a moment. I sink into the kiss. I pull back and look at what he's wearing.
His plain white t-shirt brings out the muscles in his body. You could see his toned abdomen even when he's wearing a shirt. His black pants make his shirt and his white shoe pop out. Gloss' blond hair is gelled back, making him appear a few years younger than he already is. The most striking feature is his beautiful emerald green eyes. It's something about them that makes me lost whenever I look into them. Someone can stare at them all day and not get bored looking at it.
"You look nice," I complement.
"You do too," he says at first. "No. You look more than 'nice.' You look beautiful. Almost as radiant as the sun," he gushes.
"Stop it," I giggle.
"I got us our usual," he smiles, lifting up two cups of coffee. He passes me a cup and I take a sip.
"Salt Caramel Mocha," I gasp. "You know me so well." The hot liquid slightly burns my mouth, but I don't care; it's too good not to care.
We talk about our day and then he takes me out to dinner. It was perfect. We laughed, joked, held hands, kissed, ate, and simply socialized. I got back to my car at around 7:20. My phone rings. It was a call from Gale.
"What?" I answer turning on my Bluetooth.
"Well hello to you too Catnip. I'm fine, thank you. You surely know how to treat a best friend nicely," Gale replies sarcastically. I tell him about my encounter with Cato.
"You saw him? So you're telling me he's here in Manhattan, right now," Gale practically yells in disbelief.
"Yes," I reply softly, as I park the car then turn off the Bluetooth. I grab the phone and put it against my ear.
"When I see that little fucker I will–"
"Gale. No, you will cause a scene if you do."
"SO?! He deserves it." I wince at his loud yelling.
"Gale, will you stop yelling? At this rate, I will go deaf soon."
"Sorry Catnip. I just want to protect you. A girl like you doesn't deserve what he did to you," Gale says.
"I know, but you learn to live with it." I push open the door into my dorm.
"KATNISS!" A girly voice sings. I jump in surprise.
"Sorry Gale, wait a sec," I whisper into the phone.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT MADGE?" I shout to my roommate.
"GET OFF THE PHONE PRONTO AND COME HERE! I GOT SOME IMPORTANT NEWS TO TELL YOU!" I place my hand on my phone so Gale didn't have to hear yelling.
"FINE!" I sigh. "Sorry Gale, I gotta go. Madge has something important to tell me," I apologize into the phone.
"Alright. Bye Catnip. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay." The line goes dead. "LET ME CHANGE INTO MY PJS FIRST!" I tell Madge.
"HURRY!" she yells.
I change into my sleep wear and get ready for bed. After I finish, I come out of the bath room and plop down on my bed which is beside Madge's bed. She is sitting on her bed waiting for me.
"Okay, what did you want to tell me that was so important that I had to hang up on Gale?" I say as I grab my water bottle on my night stand. I look up a Madge and raise an eyebrow. She squirms excitedly.
"I GOT YOU A JOB INTERVIEW WITH CATO EVANS!" she loudly squeals. I almost choke on my water. Cato Evans?
"You WHAT?!" I shout in disbelief.
"I got you a job interview with Cato Evans. He is looking for a songwriter and I think you'd be perfect for that spot,"
"But I quit music ever since-" I stop myself before I could say it. But Madge already knows why I quit.
"I know but it wouldn't hurt to try. Please promise me that you'll at least give it a shot?" she asks with wide, begging puppy eyes. "Your dad would also want you to do this if he was with us right now." By the look on my face, she knows that she hit my weak spot. "You know what? That's a great idea! Let me call him right now." She reaches for her phone on the table beside her. Before she could grab it, I snatch it away from her grasp and stick it in the back pocket of my jeans. Madge runs over to my bed and sits next to me. "Hey!" she yells as she attempts to claw for her phone. I stop her by holding her hands together.
"Madge, I'm not doing it," I reply, looking straight into her baby, blue eyes. Baby, blue eyes. Baby, blue eyes just like Peeta's. My Peeta; the boy with the bread; the boy that I still love even though he's gone now. Just the thought of him brings tears to my eyes. It's all my fault. I wasn't there to save him. He would still be alive if it wasn't for my stupidity.
"Why not?" Madge whines, wriggling free from my grasp. I let go of her hands and put my own hands to my face and sigh. I am too overwhelmed right now, especially with the thoughts of Peeta and Cato invading my mind.
"Because I just can't!" I snap unintentionally. I pause for a moment then realize what I've just done. Uh oh. It was probably a bad idea to snap at Madge. She was just trying to be a good friend. I hear Madge sob.
"Well then I'm sorry! Okay? I was just trying to be a nice friend and help you out. But it looks like you don't need my help because you don't even seem grateful that I worked my ass off just to set up your stupid damn interview with Cato! You know how hard it was to get in contact with Cato? Very hard! I had to do a ton of research on him until I found his personal assistant's email. Then I emailed him and he never got back to me until 3 weeks later which was today," Madge practically screams as she grips the bed sheets in anger and frustration. I feel guilty now. "I was planning on this for months to surprise you with something to keep your mind off of Peeta for once. Don't you see that I care about you Katniss?" These words that just spilled out of her mouth made me guiltier. She takes a deep breath, calming herself.
"I know you care about me Madge. You always will since we're best friends," I smile at her as she looks up from her lap. Her face immediately brightens at my words. "And I'm so sorry for snapping at you. I didn't mean to. I was just overwhelmed with all the stuff going on right now. Cato was at Times Square today you know? We both saw each other from across that street."
"You did?" she squeaks. I know that voice. It's the voice she uses right before a bunch of questions begin pouring out of her mouth. I anticipate the moment. Then she begins bombarding me with questions. "Did he recognize you? Did you guys say anything to each other? Does he still wear that friendship bracelet that you gave to him? Did he do anything to you? Does he look even hotter in real life?"
"Woah. Slow your horses."
"Sorry. I ask a lot of questions when I'm excited. You know that," Madge blushes. "But anyways, as cliché as it sounds, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that you cannot refuse!" She emphasizes the 'cannot.' "Not only is he the most wanted man in the world but he is your best friend and your ex-crush."
"Correction, he was my best friend. And Cato probably doesn't even remember who I am."
Both our mothers were very close. When they both found out that they were pregnant, they freaked out. They hoped that their soon-to-be-born babies would be best friends one day. Their wish came true when we were born. Cato and I were best friends since day one. He and I were born on the same year but Cato is a few months older than me. We played together a lot when we were little kids. I remember always going to his house every day for a play date.
As we grew older, our friendship grew stronger. When we were around 10, my dad started teaching us how to play the guitar. This was when both Cato and I found a passion for music. We absolutely loved it. Cato would sing and play the guitar and I would make up songs. We would hang out every day to make music. I would bring my guitar and music sheets and Cato would come over to my house. Then we would sing the songs together and laugh like crazy idiots.
A few years later, everything began to change when I found out that I had feelings for him. I kept it a secret from everyone. Only I knew about it. The feelings began growing stronger every day. I couldn't even look Cato in the eye anymore without blushing or let him hold my hand – like he used to do every day – without feeling little butterflies at the pit of my stomach. Whenever he would talk to me, I'd play it off cool and try not to do anything stupid right in front of him. I was able to control it with practice. Cato didn't notice my feeling towards him because I hide it so well. But when he asked for advice about another girl to me, I also lost control. Luckily, I stopped myself, forced a smile, and pretended to be happy for him that he found a girl that he really liked. Every day he rambled on about her. About how she was the prettiest girl he has ever met, how she enjoyed doing the same things as he did, how he would feel his stomach flip every time he talked to her. My heart would shatter every time he gushed about her, but I still smiled stiffly and gave him advice.
When we were 14, I still had feelings for Cato and he still had feelings for his beautiful mystery girl. We began to grow distance; only hanging out at least once a week instead of every day. I would lock myself in my room and cry on my bed, wishing that I never fell for my best friend. Then one day when we were at his house he told me that he was moving to Los Angeles, moving away from NYC and across the country because his dad got a job transfer. Both of us cried and held each other in our arms for comfort that day.
Our family drove his to the airport the next day. All of us were in tears, especially my two year old sister, Prim. She wailed as she walked through the airport, clutching my mom's hand tightly. When I was time for Cato's family to leave, I hugged every one of the Evans: Mrs. Evans, Mr. Evans, and finally Cato. Our hug was tight. He held me into his strong arms as I sobbed into his chest and he quietly cried to himself.
We promised each other that we would keep it touch. He kept his promise for about a year, texting me every day wondering how I was doing. I would tell him about my day, school, and about the new friends that I met. I told him about Gale and Madge. Cato would tell me about his life in LA. He got a record label. I was truly happy for him. He was pursuing his dream to become a singer.
Eventually the messages, phone calls, and emails started diminishing as he became more famous. He stopped replying after I constantly tried to get ahold of him. I would try to talk to him but he never returned any of my messages. The news came on the next day about the famous Cato Evans – who was thriving and living a happy life while I was drowning in my tears – released his first hit song. He forgot about me. My only childhood friend forgot about me. Everything in my life seemed so sad until Peeta came along and took away my pain. He made me feel special unlike Cato, who never bothered to recognize my feelings for him.
Later, Peeta and I began dating and Cato just became more famous as the days passed by. I really didn't care about him anymore since Peeta was there to help me. My feelings for Cato diminished as my relationship with Peeta grew. Ever since then, I put up a wall and wore a hard mask to protect my feelings. I couldn't let anyone do that to me again. If Cato forgot about me, then so would I. But then Peeta was taken away from me too. I would redo that day when he was gone in a heartbeat.
"Nonsense! This is where you're totally wrong girlfriend. Nobody and I mean nobody can ever forget their best friend," Madge exclaims, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Well I found a living example and it's Cato," I sullenly reply, lying down on my bed.
"Come on! Just because he stopped contacting you doesn't mean that he forgot about you. Maybe he was too busy to return your messages. He is a famous singer after all. And the reason why he got a passion for singing was because of your dad. Don't you remember that? Or did you forget that also with your common sense?"
"No. He seemed so happy when he left me," I frown.
"He probably put on a smile for the cameras Katniss! Nobody likes a crying celebrity," Madge explains, running a hand through her long, blond hair.
"No, I don't believe it."
"Stop being stubborn Katniss! There's no backing out now since I already made the appointment."
I sigh since I know that I'm not going to win this argument. When it comes to arguments, Madge is the queen. She can get what she wants simply by using that smart little mouth of hers.
"Fine, I'll do it," I throw my hands up in the air. She squeals in excitement. "But if he's a jackass, then I'm leaving that interview," I say.
"That's cool with me. And if he does that, make sure you tell me so I can beat that bastard. Or I could get Jo to do it for me. I'm still deciding."
"Okay," I yawn as I stretch my arms. "Oh look, we better go to bed. It's 8 already, damn." Time flew by so quickly.
"Your interview is at 4 tomorrow in the hotel Cato is staying at,"
"Alright."
"Get ready for bed Kat. You need your beauty sleep. You've got a big big day tomorrow!" she says, mimicking our annoying manners teacher, Ms. Trinket. No wonder why she's not married. If she ever will, I feel bad for the poor man who will be stuck with her. "Oh! And I can give you a makeover!" she exclaims. I inwardly groan. I absolutely hate makeovers. The last time someone gave me one…well…let's just say she walked out with a black eye and a busted lip. "When Cato sees you tomorrow, he's gonna wish you were his," Madge smiles.
"He probably already has a girlfriend. And plus, I have the sweetest boyfriend ever." In every photo he's in, I see him with a pretty girl slung on his arm. One of them ought to be his girlfriend. I couldn't help but feel the jealousy course through my veins as I imagine Cato with his girlfriend. Wait jealousy? You have a boyfriend remember? Sweet, handsome, and rich Gloss. He would never hurt you like what Cato did.
"Those girls in his photos are just his fuck buddies Katniss. All of them are simply one night stands to him," Madge reassures.
"Sure whatever." I get under my bed sheet and close my eyes. "Good night Madge," I mumble.
"Night darling," she soothingly replies as she turns off the lamp in between our beds. Eventually, Madge falls asleep. I lay awake, running through different scenarios that could happen tomorrow when I finally meet Cato after 9 years of not seeing him. Will he remember me? Will he be that cocky bastard that I see on television? Will he still have that bad-boy reputation plastered on his face when I met him? Or will he welcome me with those warm, strong arms of his as he did years ago? I sigh. Forget about it. Whatever happens, happens. I finally drift off into sleep, dreaming about what could have happened if I told Cato about my feelings for him.
And that's Chapter 1 of TotS! Tell me what you thought about this chapter by reviewing. If you liked it, then favorite or follow this story. Sorry if there were any mistakes. I didn't bother proof-reading because I was too lazy. I will be updating my other fanfictions pretty soon. Bye!
~catoniss4ever
P.S. Who watched Catching Fire? I loved it! It was so good!