Chapter 1: An IKEA Love Story
Pretending to be homeless was the first time that Peeta had ever felt alive in his whole life.
As he slowly drifted off to sleep on an expensive palomino leather sofa in IKEA, he pondered his newfound life. Despite the narrowness of clothing options and inability to indiscreetly enter nice restaurants, the idea of creating a completely new identity - one that no one else knew about - deeply excited him. His life prior to becoming a pseudo-homeless man now seemed like a nightmare. If having the mind of a thirty-five year-old unemployed hipster/blogger while being stuck in the body of a seventeen year old boy wasn't bad enough, Peeta's life as an upper-class American living in the suburbs was full of problems: An endless need for more shoes, finding the balance between your blanket and electric fan at night, no wifi at McDonalds, too much dip for your chips, unlocking the wrong Prius in the parking lot, constantly forgetting to bring sunglasses...and the list goes on.
Peeta's favorite part of being a pseudo-homeless man was that look people gave him when they saw him. Even disgust and pity surpass a blank expression. An IKEA employee with a tattoo sleeve was giving just that look, a mix of revulsion and superior sympathy. Peeta pretended to sleep as he watched, through his eyelashes, Tattoo getting his supervisor and gesticulating towards Peeta. Excitement began to pound in Peeta's ears as he anticipated his grand exit of IKEA. He stroked the soft leather of the TULLSTA chair. Swedish furniture really was his first and only love.
Peeta's grand exit would have been spectacular, maybe even headline-worthy, if he had not been distracted by a lovely young woman pondering over some sheer green curtains. He was so startled by her beauty that he almost forgot where he was. Peeta's gaze followed her long black hair down to her hip, where she balanced a stack of shockingly tasteful novels. He continued to lay there for another minute, and then made his decision. While carefully watching Tattoo and his supervisor, Peeta got up and stealthily sneaked into a nearby staff room (which was surprisingly empty), where he found an IKEA vest hanging on one of the coat racks. He donned the vest and examined his face in the dusty bathroom mirror. His face was covered with a layer of grime. After rinsing it with water, he unveiled a slightly boyish face with blue eyes, a feminine but straight nose, small mouth, and wavy blonde hair. He realized that he could probably smell better, but there wasn't much he could do. He smoothed down the wrinkled vest one last time, and left the staff room.
His heart hammered in his chest as he walked up to her. She was now examining a red swivel chair. He smiled as he realized the brand was SNILLE. Excellent choice, he thought.
"Excuse me, miss," he said as he flashed his radiant smile. "Are you remodeling your home? This floor lamp would go quite well with that chair you're looking at." He held up a decorative black STOCKHOLM lamp.
She pushed him aside with a perfunctory "No, thank you," continuing her steady examination of three very similar office chairs.
Peeta persisted.
"What are you looking for? Can I help you?" Peeta asked in a slightly threatening voice.
Still not looking over at him, the woman let irritation creep into her voice.
"I'm really alright," she snapped as she glanced over at him. "Hey!" She hesitated. "You're that homeless guy who got kicked out of Lucky's Vintage Power Emporium! What the hell?"
The woman shoveled the cake into her mouth as she mentally made a joke about needing to assemble the layered chocolate IKEA dessert. It was one of those days where you wish your neck were shorter so you could get the food into your face faster. A red-haired middle-aged mother and father swung their tiny red haired boy by the hands, narrowly missing the cart of used plates. All three of them laughed, and the mother pinched the boy's nose.
The woman abruptly realized why Marcus had broken up with her so suddenly that morning. IKEA, she thought, was a place for serious couples. When she wanted to take that next step in their relationship, to redo their bathroom, he chickened out. In fact, now that she thought of it, he had started acting distant immediately after she began putting up glossy magazine pictures of claw-foot tubbed dream bathrooms on the refrigerator door. Well, she pondered wistfully, at least IKEA was also a city of unhappy fighting couples. She saw at least three very un-smitten pairs within a 9 meter radius, staring at the floor stonily. This cheered her up considerably.
She polished off the last of the cake and pushed the plate away from her. Picking up her purse, she wandered away from the table without pushing her chair in. Feeling quite sorry for herself, she began to plan her future dream home. She decided on an off-white sofa, maroon carpeting, and black cabinets for the living room. She even picked up a lovely set of cardboard classic novels to add a little sophistication to the room.
About half an hour later, she was struggling to decide on an office chair for her study when out of the corner of her eye she noticed an IKEA employee walking toward her. He attempted to sell her something, but without looking up she politely refused. After he continued to pester her, she became annoyed and glanced at him. He was wearing torn corduroy pants, an old flannel shirt, and the usual yellow IKEA vest with a badge that read, precisely:
Hello, my name is: David
She then looked up at his face. She frowned. He looked awfully familiar.
"Hey! You're that homeless guy who got kicked out of Lucky's Vintage Power Emporium! What the hell?"
He hesitated, before replying, "I'm sorry, I think you're mistaken. I've been working at IKEA for - "
She cut him off, mid-sentence, squinting at his badge. "Your name isn't even David, is it?"
"So? Neither is yours, Katniss. Nice to meet you. I'm Peeta." He held out his hand.
"My name isn't Katniss, it's Tessa!" she snapped, ignoring his gesture. The corner of his mouth twitched. The woman felt slightly uncomfortable. Her name actually was Katniss, Tessa was actually her dog's name. She didn't give her name to strangers on principle. But how had he known her name?
The truth was he hadn't known at all. Peeta merely thought, falsely we might add, he was making a clever joke that would hopefully cause an accidental slip of her name and maybe impress her slightly.
And the correct guess of a name, readers, is only the first of many eerie and rather uncanny coincidences.