Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, nor do I own the material that this fiction is based off of, the film The Nice Guys. All content belongs to its rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Warning: The following contains graphic imagery and references to pornography.
*~*~*~* Prologue: Wish You Were Here *~*~*~*
Panem, California - 1977
Twelve-year-old Levy Jackson sits impatiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for the clock to strike two. He knows his parents went to sleep hours ago, but he wants to wait to be absolutely certain that they are asleep before he acts on anything. When he looks to the clock on his wall, the minute hand has barely moved from when he last checked. Levy suppresses an inward groan toward the nighttime sky out his bedroom window, as time for him seems to be moving infinitesimally slower than it did during the day, and he can barely keep his eyes open any more.
When the desired hour finally approaches, he springs from the bed with such a ferocity that he nearly stumbles and falls over, which would undoubtedly ruin the whole plan.
Levy makes sure to tip-toe extra quietly as he creeps into his parents' bedroom. His father is snoring loudly as he sleeps on his back, and his mother has her back turned from the door, taking most of the blankets with her.
Checking once more to ensure that both of his parents are sleeping, Levy snaps his fingers. The room remains still and unchanging. Levy cheers silently for this victory before proceeding with his plan.
Levy quickly dives under the bed, careful not to make too much noise. Thrusting his arm out, he feels around until he finds what he is looking for. His heart races with the intensity only a truly daring mission can strike within. It takes several moments to realize, as he begins to creep out of the room, that he has barely breathed once the entire time he was in there.
Once he crosses the threshold of his parents' room with the magazine, Levy lets out a small sigh of relief. The busty blonde woman on the front cover greets him with an inviting smile, her dazzling blue eyes nearly winking at him. She lies upon a bed of cashmere sheets, a token to her namesake. They conceal very little of her exposed body.
The young boy's eyes rake the glossy pages of the magazine, memorizing the curves of breasts and hips and asses until his mouth is as dry as the California heat itself.
When he reaches the centerfold, a low whistle escapes Levy's lips.
He's never thought of sex on a rock in the middle of the ocean until finding his father's secret magazine weeks ago, and now it's all he can dream about. Just as he remembers her from the night before, and the night before that, and many nights before that, the girl of his fantasies has been frozen in her moment of climax as a wave crashes against the boulder.
The long, red hair that cascades down her bare back is dripping wet, while the rest sticks to her shoulders. Eyes closed, she is arching backward, exposing her huge, creamy breasts and pink nipples for all to gaze upon. She appears to be moaning with pleasure, her kissable rosy lips forming an inviting 'O' shape that causes something in Levy's pajama pants to twitch.
Her perfectly manicured fingernails are digging into the chest of the handsome man under her. One of his large hands comes around to grip her perfect fleshy behind while the other is buried her forbidden fruit, the place Levy longs to touch.
Levy has looked at this picture almost every night, but somehow, the sight of Annika Breasta coming always manages to get him off.
If only she were real, he thinks to himself, as the painful reality of the pornography star's unattainability strikes sorrow in his young, aggressively hormonal heart. He knows he could be a better lover than the infamous Nick O. The things I would do to her…
Levy's thoughts are interrupted when the flash of headlights sliding across the Jetsons poster taped to his bedroom wall cause him to jump and shove the magazine under his pillow.
But when the headlights become larger, and closer, instead of fading away, adrenaline pumps through Levy's veins once more.
He climbs to the edge of his bed to stare, wide-eyed, through the window at the terrifying sight that unfolds before him. A bright red Lamborghini looks to have a mind of its own as it veers off the highway and screeches down the forested hill behind his house at full speed.
The car crashes into a tree just several feet from his window, nearly slicing the Lamborghini in half as the metal shapes itself around the unmoving tree's trunk. Levy gasps and, without much thinking, rushes outside to investigate the scene.
Smoke piles high from the engine in plumes that disappear in the overhanging treetops. The headlights flicker, casting treacherous shadows throughout the forest. Levy's concern heightens when the headlights linger on the distinctive outline of a human body sprawled upon the ground, at least half a dozen feet from the site of the collison. Grabbing his flashlight and double-checking to make sure the magazine is well-hidden, should his parents wake, Levy quietly makes his way outside to investigate.
The sounds of broken glass and metal crunch under Levy's sneakers as he tentatively approaches the seemingly lifeless body. But as he gets closer, he notices that the girl who has been propelled from the vehicle is breathing — shallow, final breaths.
He drops his flashlight when he realizes almost instantly that he recognizes the person belonging to the naked, bloody, writhing body. The same crimson hair he longed to comb his fingers through is fanned around her head and matted with something dark and sticky. The same large breasts he had just been ogling over are heaving as the girl gasps desperately for air. She's bleeding and bruised just about everywhere, and as Levy's eyes search her body, he comes up short in trying to find the source of her injuries.
Levy longs to hold her hand, to feel her satiny skin against his touch, or at least to cover her up somehow. But he stays frozen in place, paralyzed in what he must imagine is a nightmare.
There's no way that his wishful thinking brought this upon the woman he was in love with, is there?
He pinches the flesh of his forearm as hard as he possibly can, and it is with horror that Levy finds her still lying on the soil beneath his imposing gaze. She is as real as he had wished her to be just moments ago, almost appearing as if she is posed for her final photo.
Annika Breasta's wide green eyes, even more beautiful than he had conjured up in his head, are skittering everywhere until they meet his. A calm seems to settle over both of them once they make eye contact.
And later, when the police question him the next day, he thinks that maybe he imagined it, but he could have sworn her luscious lips had turned up into a small smile upon noticing him.
One thing, however, was certain. With her dying breath, Levy tells the police, Annika had whispered to him, "If we burn, you burn with us".
A/N: Hello! Hope you enjoyed the first bit of As the Clock Ticks On, my first venture back to writing after a few months and a very turbulent semester. The idea for this came to me while seeing the film The Nice Guys with my sister (a highly recommended watch!), and from how it fed both my affinity with the seventies and my fascination with the thought that Gale and Peeta would make for an excellent buddy cop comedic duo in an alternate universe. While the fic is based off of the major plot points of the movie, I've taken some liberties and adjusted things to better integrate the Hunger Games world. If you're familiar with the film, you know already that this story is loaded with twists, turns, action, and more - and I hope my portrayal (as well as a few of my own twists and turns) to an already great story can bring that to this forum!
Please, feel free to leave a review and any feedback you may have, as I would love to hear from you! Thank you for reading!
-ILoVeWicked
