Of course I'm not Suzanne Collins. I'd much rather be JK Rowling since Harry Potter is WAY more happily ever after than Hunger Games ever was.
"You made the paper, brainless," she said, slapping the paper down on the desk.
"What else is new?" asked Katniss, taking a sip of her steaming coffee.
"The reason you're in the paper." Katniss glanced up at Johanna Mason, her partner for the past ten years. Though Johanna was a few years older than Katniss, Johanna had joined the academy later than Katniss, so she was only a Detective while Katniss was Lieutenant in the homicide division of the NYPD.
"Care to elaborate?" Katniss locked steely grey eyes with her partner and blew her coffee with lips that hardly ever smiled. Her olive-skinned face held a permanent scowl that made her look intimidating to most, which worked in her favor in her current line of work. She took a sip of the coffee, its dark color the same as her long locks, which was currently braided up and into a bun to stay out of her way.
"You're famous," replied Johanna, jutting her chin at the paper that was now on Katniss' desk. Katniss rolled her eyes at the way Johanna hardly ever answered a question with a straight answer. Sighing she picked up the newspaper and glanced at the article Johanna was alluding to.
It didn't take her long to find it.
Katniss' breath caught in her throat as she stared at a painting of her. It was a stunning picture, even in black and white. She was dressed in all black, looking quite sexy, but not overly so. She had her bow in her hand, her arrows on her back. Her hair was in her old signature braid and she stared ahead in the painting, her face fierce, but beautiful, strikingly so.
"What the hell?" she murmured, her eyes scanning the article.
Her heart stopped.
Mellark, the artist behind his infamous Everdeen painting (pictured above), will be in New York City this weekend at the New Museum of Contemporary Art as we honor the ten-year anniversary of his most famous painting. Join us in a weekend long event. This is the following schedule:
Friday: 9AM-12P— Q & A with Mellark
Saturday: 1PM-5PM—Art Showcase
Sunday: 7PM-12AM—Picture Perfect Awards Ceremony
Katniss finished skimming the article and her eyes flickered back up to the picture of the painting. Her mouth was suddenly dry.
Mellark.
Peeta, she thought to herself.
"So it is you," Johanna said, breaking Katniss' train of thought. "Don't try to deny it. The name of the painting is Everdeen and the girl in the picture has a bow and arrow. You told me you used to hunt back in your hometown. Even if there was more than one brunette, grey-eyed Everdeen in the world, what are the chances she's into archery?"
Katniss looked back down at the paper, her fingertips softly caressing the painting, as if she could really touch it through the picture in the paper.
He'd always been into painting. She knew that. Hell the entire town knew it, especially when he got accepted into the National School of Fine Arts in Paris on a scholarship thanks to his drawings.
He was a natural.
"Are you gonna say anything?"
Katniss couldn't. No words would form.
"Well at least tell me how you two know each other. And since when do you pose for paintings? When did you even find the time, with all the ass kicking and arresting we do?" Johanna sat on Katniss' desk, looking at her expectantly.
"I've never posed for a painting," Katniss said, her face growing warm. "I don't even know who Mellark is."
Johanna looked at her. "You're a shitty liar, Everdeen."
"I've never heard of him a day in my life." And she hadn't.
"You've never heard of P. Mellark?"
"P. Mellark? Where'd you get the P from?"
"It's how he signs his paintings. He goes by Mellark but signs his paintings with what we can only assume is his first name initial. Even I've heard of him, and we all know how cultural I am," said Johanna sarcastically. "P. Mellark is like… major. One of the hugest artists of our time. He'll be up there with Picasso when it's all said and done. And this?" She pointed to the newspaper. "This is his Mona Lisa."
"I'm pretty sure the Mona Lisa was done by da Vinci."
"Whatever. My point is, you'd have to be living in a cave not to know who P. Mellark is. He's bad ass. And fucking gorgeous. Like the entire world wants to sleep with him. Body of a Greek god."
Katniss felt her face grow warm as she glanced at the picture again.
"So he's a successful artist?"
"Successful is an understatement, brainless. God, get out of your bubble, Everdeen. I'm talking to you as a friend, okay? You gotta get out more often. Not knowing who P. Mellark is like not knowing who Barack Obama is. He drew POTUS and FLOTUS last year and auctioned it off to raise charity. That bad boy sold for over five hundred mil. Like how the hell did you not even hear about that?"
Katniss had heard about that, but she'd never gotten the artist's name….
There's no way this could be Peeta.
But how many P. Mellark's could there be in the world?
Especially ones that knew her.
"He's super mysterious though. Like no one knows his first name. He just goes by Mellark. I think it's to add an edge to him, which is pointless, because if you watch five seconds of an interview you see he's a sweetheart. A real charmer." Johanna stood up and faced Katniss. "Tell me how you know him. And please tell me that you fucked his brains out."
"Jo!" Katniss snapped, turning red.
"Oh my God. How are you still so pure? I've known you for ten years and you're still as white as snow as when I fucking met you."
"Drop it, before I have to arrest myself for murdering you."
Johanna sighed and shook her head, walking towards Katniss' office door. "I can't believe you're famous, and you never even told me."
Grey eyes met brown ones, and there was a hint of betrayal in Johanna's. She was tough. She'd been hurt before, and had lost everyone she loved, so she hardly let her guard down. But they were friends.
"Johanna, I promise you, I had no idea this painting existed."
"But you know who P. Mellark is?"
Katniss chewed on her lower lip. "I had no idea P. Mellark was a famous artist."
"Don't go all lawyer on me," snapped Johanna. "You know who he is."
"I have my suspicions. Let me gather my evidence before I present my case, okay?"
"You've spent too much time with Madge lately," grumbled Johanna, referring to their friend and NYPD's go-to DA.
"That's because you're too busy screwing your boyfriend of the month to hang out," Katniss laughed.
Johanna scowled and stuck her tongue out at Katniss, and then walked away. As soon as Johanna was gone Katniss' frown returned. She glanced at the painting again, her heart pumping in her chest.
Peeta Mellark….
Yes… oh yes, she knew him.
And she was certainly wondering what the hell he was up to.
XxXxXx
Katniss still wasn't sure how she made it through the day with no case. Nobody wanted to murder anybody today apparently. This was New York for Christ's sake. People get killed all the time.
And on the day she wanted to get her mind off of something, she found herself twiddling her thumbs. Even thumbing through cold cases didn't get her brain moving in another direction.
She couldn't stop thinking of Peeta.
Because it had to be Peeta. Who else could it be? She hadn't heard from that man since he had his going away party. The entire town had been invited to say goodbye to Peeta Mellark.
The baker's son.
The boy with the bread.
Apparently he's the man who can draw now, Katniss thought to herself as she made her way to her private elevator.
What she really wanted to do was shower, but the first thing she did was get on her computer and Google the painting. She skimmed article after article, but aside from pictures of it and stories of how it's the most brilliant painting of this generation, there was never anything else said. There also weren't very many pictures of him, and the ones she found had half his face covered with shades or he'd have his head bowed.
What was he hiding? And what was he doing?
He hadn't said anything about it.
About her.
And that day.
She searched for a good hour until she was convinced there was nothing to be found. She finally got up and took a shower, braided her hair over her shoulder, changed into some sweats and a tank top, and heated up her leftover Chinese food from last night. She was flipping through the channels when she saw him.
She sat up straighter, gaping at the headline down below: EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH MELLARK, ONLY ON MSNBC.
Holy shit. It was him!
He was still handsome. He always had been, though back then he had had a baby face. He didn't look much older, but he did look like a man now. His blond locks were still just as curly as she remembered, though now there were styled, framing his face nicely. His eyes were still just as blue and piercing as she remembered. His jaw line was even more chiseled than before, his teeth as pearly white as they had been back then. His shoulders were broader, his chest squarer.
He looked good.
"So tell us about her, Mellark." Katniss tensed as the Everdeen painting flashed on the screen, her stomach dropping. This was it. This is when he'd reveal her secret to the entire world.
"Who?" asked Peeta.
"Who? Her! The woman in your painting."
Peeta momentarily looked stunned, as if he had never expected to be asked this question. He quickly composed himself, though, and asked, "Who says she was created after someone?"
"Oh come one. You mean to tell me that painting wasn't inspired by someone?"
"All of my paintings are inspired by something or someone," replied Peeta.
"So you're saying this painting isn't inspired by someone… special? This painting put you on the map, Mellark. This is the painting. This painting made you an international artist. Before then you were only known in Paris and in some places in the US. We're celebrating ten years since the release of this painting and you've never once told her story." The host paused for dramatic affect. "Was she real?"
The silence was overwhelming as Katniss waited for Peeta to answer.
"Yah," he finally said softly, and Katniss let out a breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding. "Yah, she was real."
"I knew it! Tell us about her."
"She…" Peeta's eyes flickered to the camera and then back to the host. "She was beautiful. The most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. She's from my hometown."
Katniss literally felt her heart stop.
"Were you two in love?"
"No," said Peeta quietly, looking down. "I don't think she ever knew I even existed."
What? How could he say that? Katniss stared at the screen, frozen, and slightly horrified.
"Every year I told myself I'd ask her out, but… I never did. I think she was in love with someone else, so…." He shrugged, forcing a grin.
What was he talking about?
"Sounds like bad luck."
"She was happy, so… I was happy. It's not like I was even that surprised. Everybody knew how special she was, and then somebody got the courage to approach her."
"So she never knew how you felt?"
Peeta shook his head. "I never said anything."
"And after this painting was released, she never contacted you?"
"No." Peeta blushed, frowning. "I haven't talked to her since the day before I left to Paris. Knowing her… I wouldn't be surprised if she had no clue who I was. She was never really into art."
"Mellark, you're just as famous as any Hollywood celebrity. She'd have to live under a rock not to know your name, or recognize the picture when she saw it."
"I'm not that famous in the States," said Peeta humbly. "And she wasn't somebody who'd visit art museums, so I think I'm safe."
"Safe? Do you not want her to know?"
"God no. I'd be mortified. Listen, I never expected this painting to take off the way it did. It became famous by accident. I threw a twenty-first birthday bash at my house and Robert Rauschenbergwas there. I was showing him around and he saw the piece in my studio and flipped out. Said it was the most inspiring thing he'd ever seen of this generation."
"He called it the Mona Lisa of this time," agreed the host.
"He convinced me to display it at an art gallery, and when Robert tells you to do something, you did it. I had no idea it'd get me on the map. This painting… was private. It was paying homage to a girl I'd loved my entire life. Ever since I heard her sing a solo at school in kindergarten. She had two braids in her hair and she was wearing a red plaid dress. She was… breathtaking in her talent. I'm sure the birds stopped to listen to her. I was a goner since that day."
"She sounds special."
Peeta nodded. "She was. And I'm sure wherever she is now, whatever she's doing, whoever she's become, she still is."
"And if she's watching? If she's watching right now, what would you say to her?"
Peeta blushed scarlet as Katniss sat up, leaning towards the TV. "I'd tell her that I hope I haven't embarrassed her with this painting…. That I meant it as a compliment, and… I was just painting one night. I hope you're not offended." He looked down, his face sheepish.
"If she's as special as you say she is, I doubt she's offended. If you want to see Mellark again, he's hosting a Q & A session tomorrow at the Ritz Carlton, 9AM. Thank you again, Mellark."
Katniss had to wait several moments to call Johanna. Her throat was just so dry, and she was finding it hard to breathe. She couldn't believe this was happening. He'd make her the laughing stock at the precinct. What the hell did he think he was doing? Why would he say all those things about her?
"Meet me at the Ritz Carlton tomorrow at 9AM," she said once Johanna picked up.
"What for?"
"If we don't catch a case, be there. I'll see you then." Katniss hung up and stared at the screen, her heart still beating a million miles a minute.
Though she knew she wouldn't be getting a lot of sleep, she still made her way to her room.
It was going to be a long night.
XxXxXx
She had to park several blocks away from the Ritz Carlton because there was so much traffic, but she was used to it. New York and traffic were synonyms. She was halfway to the hotel when Johanna walked up beside her.
"You're pissed," said Johanna.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I saw the interview with Mellark, and I know the way you think."
"He made me look weak."
"He made you look desirable," argued Johanna, and Katniss stopped walking and turned and faced her friend and partner.
"What?"
"It's true," Johanna said. "He was being genuine, Katniss. You're the only one who'd think anything of it, because there's this gigantic chip on your shoulder for some fucking reason. Before you go barging in there like James Bond or some shit, think about the boy you knew back home and if he'd ever do anything to hurt you."
Katniss sighed. "Why are you defending him?"
"Why do you think?"
Katniss stared at Johanna and her eyes widened. "You didn't."
Johanna nodded. "Guilty. I called him."
"Jo," sighed Katniss. "It wasn't that big of a deal."
"Gale didn't think so either. But I still called and asked him and told him the whole story. He didn't even seem surprised. But he said Peeta was a good guy."
"Don't let anyone hear you call him that. He's Mellark now. He wanted to reinvent himself. He's entitled to that."
It's what I did, thought Katniss to herself.
"Well, Gale sends his love. I wish he was sending his love to me."
"Maybe if you stop fucking everything over eighteen with a dick…."
"Gale knows I'd give up every Tom, Dick, and Harry for him."
"You ready?" asked Katniss instead of answering, and Johanna nodded. "Good. Let's go. We're already late."
Katniss' plan was to sneak quietly into the back of the conference room, unnoticed.
She didn't even make it to entrance of the hotel.
"Oh my God," pointed a high-pitched blonde girl. "It's her. It's the girl from the picture!"
Katniss froze as people looked from the large poster of the painting and then looked at her. It felt like time stopped as it started to click that Everdeen was live and in the flesh. It didn't take long for the screams to start and for people to start heading towards her. Before her defenses could pick up, a familiar face caught her eye.
He held up his badge, his men behind him, and told the crowd to back up.
"Lieutenant," he said when he approached her.
"Captain Boggs," breathed Katniss. "What are you doing here?"
"I volunteered for security detail. Mellark's people hired several hundred of us for the weekend, from all Districts. I'm a huge Mellark fan."
"Really?" asked Johanna, her eyebrows shooting into the spikes on her forehead. Boggs nodded.
He looked at the picture and then at Katniss. "That you?"
"Don't ask," muttered Katniss. "Can you get me inside?"
"You got a ticket?"
"I got a badge," Katniss responded. "And I'm not above using it. I need to get in there."
"You're the lieutenant."
"Yes I am. Lead the way, Captain."
They shuffled their way inside the Ritz Carlton, keeping their heads bowed, their eyes low. It wasn't long before they reached the conference room. After Boggs talked to the two security guards outside the door Katniss and Johanna got in without a problem.
The conference room was packed to capacity, but at least people were still lingering around. Katniss and Johanna grabbed a seat in the back corner, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Katniss didn't know what would happen if Peeta saw her before she was ready.
"Okay everybody, please settle down," said an eccentric woman. Katniss forgot about blending in when she sat up to get a good look at the woman. "We have a big, big day ahead of us today, and even a bigger weekend."
"Does she have pink hair?" Johanna asked.
"That's what I see," muttered back Katniss.
"Who the fuck does she think she is?"
"Now for those of you who do not know me, I'm Effie Trinket. I'm the Public Event's Coordinator to Coriolanus Snow, the President of Picture Perfect Studios. It is with great pleasure that I introduce to you this year's recipient of the Picture Perfect Award: Mellark!"
The crowd went wild—at least Katniss assumed it did. She was sure people were clapping.
She just didn't hear it.
The minute he came on stage her stomach did this little funny flip-flop thing. As if that wasn't alarming enough, everything seemed to stop and stand still, with the exception of Peeta, who was strutting on stage in slow motion. He looked… perfect with his sunshine colored waves and ocean blue eyes.
Katniss wasn't sure how long she zoned out for, but quite some time passed before she was brought back to the present. He talked about a few of his most famous pieces, which were all well-received, though none of them got the attention the Everdeen painting did.
It was during the Q & A that made Katniss snap out of it—whatever it was.
A girl stood up, her blonde hair falling down her back. "Mellark, I saw your interview last night and I was just wondering why you're so secretive about the woman in the Everdeen painting?"
"I don't think I'm being secretive," said Peeta.
"We've never heard her story. Not once, in ten years. All your paintings have a story, but not Everdeen."
"She was private," Peeta reasoned. "And who's to say, wherever she is, she hasn't told her own story? It's not my story to tell. She's not my story. She's just part of it."
"You can't paint this incredible picture and not tell us anything. Something."
"So you guys can research and bother her?" smiled Peeta, shaking his head. "My lips are sealed. Next question?"
This time a pretty Black girl stood up. "Which painting was your favorite to create and why?"
"Definitely Everdeen," Peeta said without hesitation, "because it was raw, and real, and unexpected. It's a real feeling, this painting, and I didn't paint it under pressure or to sell or to become famous. I painted it from the heart."
And then somebody else stood up and asked a question that made Katniss hold her breath.
"Do you still love her?"
It seemed like everybody turned to the small brown-haired girl. Apparently it was the million-dollar question.
Peeta cleared his throat and everybody's attention went back to him. "I don't know," said Peeta, his cheeks kind of pink. "I mean… I don't know who she is anymore. I haven't talked to her in over thirteen years. I'd like to think she's still just as amazing, just as incredible now as she had been all those years ago."
"That is all the time we have, I'm afraid," said the woman with the pink wig, her metallic gold heels to match her suit clicking on the floor. "Thank you all so much for coming today."
Johanna turned to Katniss, leaning in close. "You have so much explaining to do."
"I honestly had no idea," Katniss said, shaking her head. "I knew him since we were five, and he never said anything to me."
"You wouldn't have noticed if he had," sighed Johanna. "You're completely brainless unless it comes to cop shit."
"I didn't have a lot of time for boyfriends growing up," muttered Katniss. "Come on. Let's go."
"Are we about to go fuck shit up?"
"Yes. But don't call me Everdeen. It's Katniss."
Katniss moved ahead and headed towards an officer. "You," she said, pointing and flashing her badge, "what's your name and rank?"
Before he could respond someone called her name. She spun around and saw Boggs again.
"What are you doing?"
"I need to see him," said Katniss simply. Boggs sighed. Katniss held up her badge. "See this badge? It's a do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it-badge."
Boggs arched an eyebrow. "We're Transformer's now? That line didn't even work for that guy."
"I can get to him with the badge, Boggs. Are you going to make me do that?"
"No," sighed Boggs again, hunching his shoulders. "Follow me. You owe me."
"Anytime."
Katniss and Johanna followed him as they made their way through the crowd, Katniss once again keeping her head down. It didn't take them long to reach a small room off to the side.
"This is his unofficial dressing room."
Obviously, as there was a very muscular blond man blocking the door.
"Mr. Mellark isn't expecting any visitors," he said.
"I'm not a visitor," said Katniss, holding up her badge. "I'm a detective. I need to see him." The guard hesitated. "What's your name?"
"Odair. Finnick Odair."
"You his bodyguard?"
"Head bodyguard."
"I can see that," muttered Johanna, and Katniss shot her a look.
"I understand you have a job, Mr. Odair. I respect that job. But I have a job too. My job trumps your job. I genuinely respect your job, but it's gonna be awfully hard to protect Mr. Mellark if you're sitting in a jail cell. Do you understand?"
"Look, whatever you think you got on Mr. Mellark, you're crazy. He hasn't done anything. I've worked with him for the past ten years. He's never even gotten a parkin ticket."
"I just wanna ask him a few questions."
"In regards to what?"
Katniss tried not to roll her eyes as she stepped closer to the buff blond boy. "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you. Step aside, and open the door, Odair."
He turned and knocked on the door, and then opened it and stuck his head inside. "Mr. Mellark? The police are here to see you."
Finnick stepped aside as Peeta said, "The police?"
And then Katniss came forward, her heart hammering, and stared into the ocean blue eyes of a man she hadn't seen in thirteen years.
He was sitting at a desk, a pen in his hand, and their eyes locked through the mirror for a brief moment, heather grey meeting ocean blue.
"Katniss?" Peeta spun around in his chair, looking at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open.
Taking a deep breath she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Hello, Peeta."
Katniss stepped closer to Peeta as he stood up, clearly dumbfounded.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her, his voice filled with shock.
"I live here," responded Katniss.
"You live in New York?"
"New York City, to be more specific."
Peeta shook his head and groaned, burying his hands in his face. "I knew I should have had this event in Los Angeles. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit." Katniss could see him visibly shaking.
"Calm down," Katniss said, walking up to him. "Why don't you sit back down?"