Music and the Beast

Summary: Caught up in a ruse to stay away from her past, top talent manager, Katniss Hawthorne wasn't one for music or romance. But maybe, there might just be someone to bring the music back into her life. Implied K/C, K/G, but ultimately K/P.

Genre: Comedy/Drama/Romance

Chapter Length: 7,694 words

Warnings: Mature (more of post-trackerjacker) Peeta, heavy and depressing themes, Snow. Just Effin' Snow.


First off I'd like to say thanks to all those who reviewed and added this story to their alerts and favorites list. A big thanks to my anonymous reviewers whom I couldn't thank personally, Holley, KinnaFatniss (lol, I love your name), Sarah, GIFtoJPG, Cannoli, and LiveLaughLovekataang.

To address the questions or comments from those listed above:

Marj: Boo. You were the only one who answered the pop quiz, so you got a sneak peek of this chapter already. Congrats for the effort. Scroll down to see the rest you haven't already read.

KinnaFatniss: I'm aware that my first chapter was pretty long, and I'm not going to lie, this one is going to be pretty long as well. I was planning on making this story a three-shot (not going to anymore, I think), but I'll see what chapter length (and as a corollary chapter number) is most conducive to story progression. I'm sorry if the blocks of text make you queasy X(

GIFtoJPG: This chapter answers your first question. Might I say, you have a good eye for things. Glad to see someone noticed the differences in Katniss' relationships with the men in her life. You'll get to see a lot more of that in this chapter.

Cannoli: Yeah, I do have plans on including Finnick, Madge, and Johanna in the next chapter. Haymitch makes his appearance in this one.

I got quite a few story alerts for this one, but don't be afraid to make your presence known guys. It really encourages me when I get a lot of feedback, and I try as much as possible to acknowledge and reply to each one.

BTW, this is a pretty heavy chapter. A bit of a downer if you ask me, but I tried to fit in as much plot progression as I could. I hope the K/P interaction makes up for it. Don't worry. It'll get light and fluffier as the story progresses in next chapters, but yeah. It was pretty hard to write.

So, on to the chapter then!


Chapter 2: The Storm

Katniss woke up the next day to the sound of nothingness. She spent a good ten minutes staring up at the ceiling before finally forcing herself out of bed. It was unusual not to have her phone buzzing from the get go, but today was just one of those days, she assumed – the calm before the storm. If she was lucky, the figurative storm would come soon. She wasn't used to not constantly being badgered about schedules and appointments, but she really didn't have anything scheduled today, and it wasn't like people called her up because they wanted to hear her voice.

She made her way to the bathroom for a shower and took her time as she felt the warm droplets of moisture against her skin.

No, she had left this day free of appointments, distractions. It was a day of meditation, self-reflection and solemnity.

As she got out of the shower she contemplated the significance of this day. She dug around her closet for the familiar blue dress she donned on such occasions. It was simple, what most would consider out of style and old-fashioned. She couldn't care less. Such days called for simplicity.

She left her room to find that Prim was already seated on the couch, an arrangement of white flowers on her lap. A few of the petals had found their way onto the floor. Prim had the habit of plucking them in her nervousness, but Katniss had neither the strength or the heart to scold her for it. Instead, she picked the stray petals up and let them float above a bowl of water she had prepared.

"Rue left earlier. She sends her regards." Prim watched as Katniss set the bowl on the dining table.

"Have you eaten?" Katniss asked. She knew Prim would say no, but it was more of a formality than anything. Both of them knew that neither had the appetite on this particular day of the year.

"You ready?" Prim called, almost in a whisper.

"Yeah. Let's go." Katniss made her way out, halfway through the door before realizing. "Crap."

"What is it?" Her sister voiced out behind her, peering over her shoulder to see if she had forgotten anything.

"I left my keys at the studio." Katniss stated simply.

Between the stress of yesterday's vehicular mishap, Cato's big TV blunder, Snow's unexpected drop-by and the embarrassing fiasco that was Gale's exuberant display of affection, she had totally forgotten about her car, most likely still parked at the studio parking. She cringed at the possible fine for overnight parking. She had planned on picking up her keys and driving home, but Gale's invitation to dinner had sidetracked her.

"I still have my car." Prim offered, shrugging, "That is if you're not too rich and successful to mind driving around in an old sedan."

Katniss shrugged and nodded. She repeated to herself what she had been thinking earlier. Such days called for simplicity.

The trip to the cemetery was like all the others they had taken since that day. With all the effort Katniss had gone through to forget the incident, to erase it from their lives and act as if it never happened, this day out of all the days in a year was the only occasion that she willingly allowed herself to remember. She hadn't even gone on the day of his funeral, or the next three years after his death for that matter. It took a hardened slap from her then twelve year-old sister to talk her into actually visiting his grave. In all her twenty-seven years, Katniss had not seen such strength from anyone as she did in her sister that day. It was funny how a twelve year-old had more maturity at that time than herself at twenty. A few days later when Gale came around with his grand offer, she decided to pick herself up, if not for herself, then for her sister. Since then, it had become somewhat of a tradition for the two to make their way to their father's grave together, and today was the day.

They took their time at their father's gravestone. No tears were shed, not because they weren't sad, but because they had made it a point to live on, and crying wasn't going to do them any good. Where maturity was concerned, the eight years that separated them meant nothing. They were both adult enough to accept what they couldn't change, Prim was just more optimistic about it.

"You still going to work today?" The younger sister asked as she fiddled with the weeds that had sprouted at the sides of the grave. "To pick up your car at least?"

"I left my entire day free. To be honest I don't feel like letting myself near any of that today." Katniss let out dully. What was a few dollars of extra parking fee going to amount to anyway? "Why, you got anything else planned?"

"No, not really." She pulled a rather stubborn weed from the ground, "Just thought you'd have better things to do than waste your time here with me and dad."

"I didn't hate him, Prim." Katniss found it hard to be convincing when she couldn't quite convince herself, "I don't hate you either." That at least, she was sure of.

"Well you should know I don't hate you either. Neither did he. He didn't blame you, you know?"

Katniss didn't answer and instead looked up at the sky. It was a blue-ish grey tint and dark clouds whelmed forebodingly on the horizon. What looked to be a storm was forming.

"We better get a move on, looks like it's gonna-" Katniss was cut off by the abrupt sound of her phone ringing. She inwardly cursed herself for forgetting to change her ringtone back after Cato took the liberty of assaulting her with a noise barrage of his latest single.

"Is that-?" Prim tried to bite back laughter.

"Don't ask." Katniss cut her off as she answered her phone putting an end to the irritating noise. She raised her finger at Prim, shushing her before any further teasing could occur.

"Hello, Gale? What is it?" She answered harshly without intending to, "You know what day it is. What's up?"

"Katniss, you might want to come in today." His voice sounded uncharacteristically urgent. "Can you be here in fifteen minutes?"

"I'm with Prim right now. I don't think I'll have time to bring her home." She reasoned.

"Then bring her along. She might be able to shed some light on what the hell is happening." Gale voice was frantic.

"We talked about this Gale. Prim and work are two separate things. I am not bringing her to that place." Prim stuck her tongue out at her playfully before resuming her assault on the weeds.

"Well you don't have much of a choice. Leave her outside the office for all I care. We need you here, now." And then he hung up.

"What was it?" Prim stood up and dusted herself off.

"Looks like I'm going to work after all." Katniss shot Prim a sympathetic smile before grabbing her hand in hers. "And you're coming along."

"What does Gale need me for? Do I get to meet Cato?" Prim's eyes lit up at the prospect.

"Like hell you are." Katniss shot any hopes Prim had brewing down as she dragged her down the hill back to their car, laughing along the way. "In fact, I'll make it my personal agenda to keep that man-child as far away as I can from you."

Prim pouted playfully as she got into the car following Katniss. "Eh, it was worth a shot."

"So much for solemnity." Katniss muttered to herself as she relished the sibling banter they had been able to sustain despite the occasion.


Katniss left Prim at the lobby before making her way into her agency's main office. It was rare for her to actually drop in; most of her work was very hands-on with her clientele, and most of the paperwork she did from the comfort of her own home.

It was to her surprise then when the people on duty actually looked like they were expecting her as they all stood up, greeting her with almost apologetic looks on their faces as she walked on by.

'What the hell is going on?' she thought to herself, an odd feeling of apprehension crawling up her spine as she neared her own office.

"Katniss!" Gale caught her arm before dragging her into a corner.

"What the hell Gale?" Katniss let out, surprised by the firm grip that held her in place.

"We don't have much time." Gale started, "Did you sign any release forms for your dad's last few albums?"

"What! No! Of course not." Katniss answered, not knowing where Gale was headed with this. She hadn't so much as touched her dad's work in ages, much less allowed for its distribution. If there was one thing she could be sure of, it's that she had taken all the effort in the world to avoid having to even acknowledge her dad's work existed.

"Well this will come as news to you too then." Gale released her from his grip as he looked around exasperated.

"What do you mean?"

He held her gaze in his before breaking it to her. "Snow's got the rights to all your dad's work, Katniss."

It took a few seconds for Gale's words to register.

"He owns your dad's work."

Katniss didn't even have the time to process Gale's oversimplification of the matter before she was dragged further along the hall and into a large boardroom.

"That's what he's been planning all along." Gale explained, his face void of emotion. "Going a different direction my ass. There's no way in hell I'm producing Cato's next album."

Katniss had a million thoughts running through her mind at once, the most ironic of which was that although she had set this day aside to allow herself a measure of vulnerability, to pay tribute to her father, she was in no way ready to face the daunting mountain that was his entire musical career. Why this? She thought to herself. Was this some sort of divine retribution?

She looked across the boardroom to see the people present for what could possibly be the biggest bombshell in her career. There sat a few publicists she had become acquainted with over the span of her time in the industry, their head of marketing, a few notable music producers, Gale taking his place amongst them as he shot a helpless look at her, and off to the side, looking as if he definitely did not want to be there, sat Cato, fidgeting with the phone in his hands, his eyes trained on it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world at the moment.

The man of the moment had yet to make an appearance and Katniss hoped on the off chance that he never would, she would be spared from whatever personal torture the heavens had in store for her. Without letting her so much as complete her thoughts, a heavy arm rested itself on her shoulder and she was met with the most terrifying pair of eyes she had ever seen.

His eyes now meeting hers in a gaze that seemed impossible to break, Snow wore a sly smile as he squeezed her shoulder, more to taunt her than anything else. "It looks like we can finally start now that Mrs. Hawthorne is here." He cleared his throat before he dropped the bomb, "Or shall I say Miss Katniss Everdeen, daughter of the late Joseph Everdeen."

The air stood still at the revelation and an eerie quiet dominated the room. Katniss could almost hear the sweat that began trailing down her neck, not having been prepared to be outed to this many people, at least not today.

She was well aware that Snow knew of the secret behind the ruse that was her cover-up marriage with Gale. He had hired her in the most unusual of circumstances, three years after the disappearance of any trace of news on the Everdeens, a family so well-known where music was concerned. It was odd that he didn't at all question her similarity in stature and in name to the daughter of the late musician and she figured he knew, but had the decency to not press on with any prying questions. Obviously, she was wrong, and over the years for working for the man, she had begun to understand that CEO Snow was just not a nice man. In the back of her head, she knew it wouldn't last. She just wished it didn't have to end like this, with Snow wrapping her around his finger.

Cato looked at her, face full or remorse, regret and fear. She merely gulped, biting back the tears that threatened to fall. All eyes were now trained on her, some unbelieving, some just flabbergasted, and others itching to alert the press. Gale shook his head, at a loss.

"Why so quiet everyone?" Snow belted out in laughter. "This is a day of celebration!" He gave Katniss a good slap on the back, knocking the air out of her. "What better way to commemorate the death of one of this Nation's greatest musicians than by paying tribute to him and his work with a remake album, sung by the new generation's biggest star, not to mention, produced and supervised by his very own daughter!"

Silence.

"So you're telling us, that Miss Hawthorne here-" A producer, quivering and confused as anyone else, gestured to the unimposing woman who wore her hair in a simple braid and maintained a face free of makeup, and gawked. "- is Joseph Everdeen's daughter." His tone was incredulous at best. "She was lead singer of the band that almost rivaled that of her father's, The Mockingjay?"

Gale stood up, not being to take any more. "Even if that is true, you expect us to just remake an entire album, out of the blue? What right do you have? Do any of us even have a say in this?"

"That's what this meeting is for, young man." Snow managed his tone, although it was obvious that the producer had stepped out of line. "I'm giving all of you the chance to be part of what may be this company's biggest project yet. That or be terminated."

It wasn't really a choice.

"You should be happy you've even been invited Mister Hawthorne-" Snow addressed the tall producer as he started pacing through the room. "What with having withheld the knowledge of the whereabouts of Miss Everdeen this entire time."

Gale was furious. "She is my wife." He said through clenched teeth.

"Not on paper she isn't." Snow answered with a tone of nonchalance as he dropped yet another bomb which solicited gasps from those present. Cato sat up at the news. "I checked."

He made his way around the room so he was now face to face with the producer. Gale recoiled at the strong scent of the man's perfume, so strong he could barely breath.

"And you're wrong about another thing, Mister Hawthorne. I do have the right, or rather, rights, to do anything I want with Joseph Everdeen's music. Bless his soul."

"That can't be possible." Katniss muttered under her breath.

"What was that Miss Everdeen?" Snow redirected his attention to the woman who had her fists clenched tight. "You're going to have to speak up darling, I'm afraid we can't hear your beautiful voice."

"That can't be possible." Katniss said with more fervor. "I didn't sign any papers. This doesn't have my consent."

Snow laughed, all too amused with her naiveté. "Oh darling, of course you didn't." Snow clasped his hands together, almost giddy to break the girl in front of him. "Your mother did."

Katniss couldn't hide the shock from her face. "Mom?"

"She was quite happy to if you ask me." It was as if Snow relished the poor girl's pain. "Quaint little woman. She even sent her blessing."

"And what makes you think I'm giving you mine?" Katniss said defiantly, digging for anything to get herself out of this. "I never said I would produce or supervise any of this. In fact, I don't want to have anything to do with this."

Snow made his way toward the trembling girl and fisted her braid in his hand delicately as he whispered. "You might want to choose your words carefully my dear. I'd hate for the press to paint a picture of a dark summer night, a few drinks here and there, maybe a little substance abuse and just how bad a father Joseph Everdeen really was."

Katniss stiffened as Snow continued to taunt her, unbeknownst to those in the room. "I know all about your family's dirty secrets Katniss. I didn't roll around in the dirt of your father's shoes for nothing."

He let her braid go and turned gleefully to his subordinates, a mask of professionalism pristinely covering his face.

"So now that all that's addressed, I'm guessing everybody is willing to contribute their talents to this wonderful effort?"

Katniss had nothing left to say, so she nodded. Snow had her cornered, and he knew it.

"Wonderful then. I'll expect a progress report and task delegation by tomorrow. Meeting adjourned."


"What just happened in there?" Gale asked her as the room started to clear out. "I can't believe you agreed to that."

"He schooled me. That's what happened." Katniss could only let out a sarcastic laugh before crumbling into a mess of tears in the man's arms. "I can't face him, Gale. I-I can't. It was my fault- He shouldn't have died. I can't-" Ten years of tears seemed to flow out all at once.

"Shh." Gale took her into his arms and cradled her between sobs, rubbing his hand on her back and just wishing there was more he could do for her. He had taken it upon himself to protect her and he failed even at that. "It wasn't your fault. You don't have to do this."

"I have to Gale." She cried into his shirt. "Else, I'd be a worse daughter than I already am."

"Katniss?" Prim walked up from behind the heavy doors to find the two, immediately rushing to their side. "Katniss, what's wrong?"

"Prim, you need to get back to your mom." Gale urged her suddenly, not wanting to have to explain the entire debacle. If he knew one thing about Katniss, it was that Prim meant everything to her, and looking weak in front of her sister was at the bottom or her list of things to be seen doing. "You need to get to your mother and see what the hell is going on with her signing documents and release forms and-"

"Documents?" Prim's narrowed. "What documents?"

"Just get there, and ask her if she's met with anybody. If she signed any papers." Gale directed. "Be discreet, I need to know what the hell is going on."

Prim nodded, knowing that it wasn't her place to pry at the moment. "Katniss, will you be okay?"

"I-I'll be f-fine, little duck." Katniss managed between sobs, burying her face further into Gale's shirt.

"You take care now." Gale called out as Prim went, turning her back oh so often to make sure her sister didn't just spontaneously combust. "She'll be fine. I promise. I'll take care of her."

Quietly, too quiet for anyone to hear, Prim muttered, "She isn't yours to take care of."


Katniss woke up in a room that wasn't her own, unfamiliar bed sheets tucked around her frame and the strong scent of coffee wafting through the air.

"G'morning sunshine."

Katniss fought to widen her eyes against the blaring sunlight to focus on the figure in front of her. "Where am I?"

"After the board meeting, I took you home and you ended up finishing half of my entire wine cabinet and then some." The figure, which turned out to be Gale, helped her sit up as he placed a tray of food on her lap. "Needless to say, you weren't in any shape to make the treacherous journey back to your flat, so you conveniently claimed my bed for yourself, leaving me the honor of sleeping on the couch."

"What time is it?" She asked, completely ignoring Gale's guilt trip.

"Well, it's almost time to meet the music crew to be quite honest." Gale answered, shoving the plate of food toward her, seeing that she hadn't realized it was even there.

Katniss shoved it back, not in the mood for solid food just yet. "Music crew? I thought they were just delegating tasks?"

"Just got the text this morning." Gale replied flatly. "Snow's so excited, he delegated the tasks himself. Says he has a big surprise for us at the studio."

"Crap." Katniss muttered. She had taken a new liking to the word, seeing as she's used it more often in a twenty-four-hour time span than she had in her entire life. It was a mantra now, a summary of what her life was – crap. "The studio."

"What about the studio."

"My car's at the studio." She answered simply, ignoring the giant elephant in the room that was the fact that they'd be starting work on the album today. "It's been there for two nights now."

Gale raised his brow at her.

"It's a long story." She rolled her eyes, hardly in the mood to go into detail.

"Ouch. Wonder if they've towed it yet." Gale dug a spoon into the eggs and shoved it into his mouth. He wasn't going to let a perfectly good plate of eggs go to waste. "You up for some music then?"

Katniss didn't answer. Did she even have a choice? She had spent almost half her life trying to forget. Now she was going to spend the next few months remembering each and every mistake, one song at a time. No, she had no choice.


"It's pouring." Katniss observed as they made the drive to the studio. "Couldn't he at least wait until the weather got better?" Silently, she hoped that the stormy weather would excuse her from dressing up. She had forced herself into an oversized tee and some old jeans she had left at Gale's long ago, not in any way wanting to look like she was eagerly anticipating what was to transpire this afternoon. She had to give herself at least that. That and she had the propriety not to show up to work in the same clothes she had the day before.

"There's apparently a storm coming in." Gale answered the question that had drifted from its importance as-a-matter-of-factly, eyes trained on the road in front of him, obviously not caring that she looked more like a homeless person than someone who was to produce a hit album. "Snow wanted to at least get a head start before it actually hit. He's so work -oriented, isn't he?"

Gale's sarcasm did not go unnoticed by Katniss, who had by now forced herself into an unstable apathy towards it all. "Yeah, if work-oriented was synonymous to cold, heartless, slave driver."

Gale laughed, unrestrained. They had always had a go at the dictator that was their CEO at how he was all business and no soul. Only now, they had a tangible representation of his evil and manipulation, and were getting the brunt of the attack. At least now they had an excuse to hold a certain level of resentment to the man and his ways.

"We're almost here." Gale rounded the curb to the studio. "You excited to meet the people you'll be spending the next month or two with?"

"Ecstatic." Katniss rolled her eyes as Gale pulled over to a stop in front of the drop-off. She got off and slammed the door unceremoniously behind her.

"I'll see you inside." Gale did his best to shoot her a comforting smile. "Don't make any enemies while I'm gone."

"Don't worry. I don't plan on making any friends either." Katniss quipped, a forced smile on her face as she hugged herself to keep warm from the cold winds. "Don't take too long."

Gale gave her a play salute before driving off to park, and Katniss slowly made her way inside, nodding at the man behind the desk. She made a familiar turn to the booth she had come to know so well after having supervised Cato on more than one occasion during his recording sessions. Although it was torture having to listen to the out-of-tune screeches Cato had come to know as singing, she was sure that reliving every shred of her father's memory through his songs would be a hundred times worse.

"You're late." Snow's voice held a certain edge to it, making her flinch.

"The rain held us up." She answered blankly, not wanting to have to sustain further conversation with the man she had come to abhor with a passion in a mere day.

"Very well then." He turned to the man who seemed to be asleep behind a set of drums and cleared his throat, a gesture that he supposed would wake the man.

There was no response.

Katniss furrowed her brow at the man, still sound asleep, slowly falling backwards until his head slumped at a near impossible angle. He seemed familiar, but his unruly hair hid any resemblance and Katniss dismissed the thought. The imposing man beside her began to fume as he sauntered his way toward the man and kicked his leg, causing the man to sit up on impulse, overshooting an upright position and sending his head straight for the nearest snare drum. Katniss supposed she would have keeled over laughing had she not been in such a foul mood to begin with, but she allowed herself a small guffaw at the sight, before the sight of the man's pained eyes brought her back.

"Haymitch."

The man, obviously hurt but not at all fazed by the accidental blow he had received, squinted his eyes as he surveyed his surroundings. One would suppose he was used to unpleasant awakenings the way he merely rubbed the bump on his head that would surely grow to a big blue bruise.

"It seems you know him then." Snow smiled, knowing the answer. He enjoyed watching Katniss shift uncomfortably in place. "I'm sure you're quite well acquainted with your father's past band mate."

At the mention of the word 'father', Haymitch cocked his head and managed to focus his eyes long enough to recognize the face in front of him.

"Well what do we have here?" He got up, stumbling on his own steps as he dragged himself toward the pair. "If it isn't little miss Houdini herself. Miss Katniss Everdeen." It took him a few seconds to find his center of gravity before bending down so he was at eye level with the girl who shared his grey eyes, taking her hand and placing it against his lips. "What a pleasure to finally meet you after all these years. Tell me exactly-" his drawl bore the unmistakable scent of alcohol, choking her with its fumes. "Where've you been all my life?"

Katniss stepped back, more disgusted than intimidated by the man who stood before her, his dark curly hair and grey eyes bearing a strong resemblance to her own, if not in appearance then in the pain that lay beneath them.

Haymitch took her face into one of his large hands and clenched it quite uncomfortably, examining her face. "What? Nothing to say to your good ole godfather?" He laughed cynically, before turning his attention to Snow. "Didn't know that did 'ya?"

Snow was unimpressed at the revelation, it held no merit to him. Katniss, on the other hand, flinched as Haymitch readied a hand as if to hit her. He stopped midway and smiled wickedly.

"Why would 'ya?" Haymitch withdrew and flung his arms into the air. "It's always been Joseph this and Joseph that. Even when he's dead I'm stuck doing his bidding."

"What's going on here?" Gale entered the room as the tension grew thick. He turned to Katniss and held her hand, finding her cold and shivering.

"Ah, it's about time you got here." Snow was unfazed as he sat down on the listeners' couch and began to address the drunk in the room. "If you please, Mr. Abernathy, I'd prefer it if you kept your angst and self-deprecation to yourself. Now if we could only get that young arranger here, we could finally get started."

As if on cue, a disheveled young man barged in, his damp boots streaking puddles across the floor and squeaking incessantly as he fiddled with the strap of his bag, caught on the door handle from his entry.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I had to pick up my bike from the shop. And the rain-" He paused a moment to gather his bearings before settling for a staring competition with his feet.

"Ah, Mr. Mellark, how wonderful of you to join us." Snow laughed patronizingly as he stood up and walked toward the man, clasping is hands together now that his favored bunch of misfits was complete. "I'd like you to meet your new workmates."

"Peeta Mellark." He introduced himself, somewhat embarrassed at his tardiness. "It's such an honor to be working on such a big project. Joseph Everdeen was one of my biggest idols and I can't wait to get started on his work." He only managed to let out the last few words of his sentences before his blue eyes met a familiar shade of grey. "You."

"Me?" Katniss squirmed under his gaze, taken aback at his recognition of her.

"You're the girl from the parking lot." His brows furrowed, recalling the event.

Katniss tilted her head to the side trying to recall where she had seen this man. Had he witnessed the shame that was that awful accident? She had to shut him up.

"You crashed into me and made me park your car?" He let out, his tone baffled. "You don't even remember?"

The men in the room turned to her, curious and awaiting an explanation as Katniss' eyes widened at the sudden realization. "Oh god, just kill me now."

"It is you!" The blonde man started to laugh, his wide chest bellowing at the action. "I can't fucking believe it. You're working on this too?" He tossed his jacket off to the side before collapsing on the couch at the ridiculousness of it all, suddenly forgetting the formalities.

Gale stood between the dodgy blonde and Katniss, confused, yet furious for no apparent reason. "Katniss, you know this guy?"

Before Katniss had the chance to explain, Peeta sat himself up. "Wait. So you're Katniss Everdeen?" He let out in a more than disrespectful tone than earlier, now refusing to acknowledge her. "You're the daughter of Joseph Everdeen?" He turned to Snow, a dubious look on his face. "You've got to be kidding me."

Snow couldn't help but smile at the young man's blunt attitude, whereas Gale was reeling, fists clenched and ready to take a jab at the smaller built man. Katniss felt insulted, although she herself knew she wasn't much of a daughter either. Haymitch just let out a hoot and sat behind his set of drums before finally passing out.

"I'll let you three get acquainted then." Snow had other things to take care of. "Mr. Hawthorne, you're coming with me."

Gale turned to the CEO, surprised. "Wait, what?"

"I have some things to discuss with you." Snow explained, the tone of his voice implying more to it than was said. "You're coming with me to the office."

"I don't think-" Gale started to reason.

"Exactly." Snow cut him off. "You don't think." His tone was decisive. "I think for you."

His tone sent shivers down Katniss' spine. What was he going to do with him?

"Now you three, go through Joseph's songs. I need a shortlist of songs to include in the tribute album. I want them ready by the time I get back." His voice was unforgiving and Katniss suddenly felt as if her life was in grave danger. "You'll find the preliminary plans in the files I've set aside for each of you. I trust you'll choose accordingly to suit Cato's image the best."

Gale gave her a look and she understood. 'Trust no one.'

And then they left.

Katniss' knees buckled as the door shut behind them. She clasped the side of a large piano for support. The world seemed as if it were spinning.

Peeta began digging through the files and reading the summaries of the contracts that bound them to the project. "This is bullshit." He stated simply.

Katniss snapped out of her momentary blackout to examine the blonde man who had now stood up and started pacing around the room, still continuing to rummage through the files. His ashy blonde hair was tussled and damp from the rain, sticking out at odd angles as it framed his face. His countenance betrayed his age in that his eyes and features made him look considerably younger than she assumed he was, that is until she noticed how tall he was compared to her. His shirt clung to his body and she noted that he was well built, albeit not as stocked as Gale was. If she crossed this man, he could easily knock her out. She walked cautiously toward him to peer over at what he was reading.

"Great. First I find out that the daughter of my lifetime idol is a crazy psychopath who can't even park her car and now I discover Snow only plans to pay me half of what this drunken ape gets." For someone with a baby face, he didn't speak with much reserve.

"Then why don't you just quit?" Katniss voiced from behind him, making him jump at her proximity. Apparently he hadn't noticed her sneak up from where she had once been. She was quiet on her feet.

Katniss had meant no harm with her question. She was honestly just curious at what his reaction would be and if there was any truth behind his words of adoration for her father. If she would be forced to remember and face the trying ordeal of dealing with the unpleasant memories attached to each song, she'd rather do it in the presence of people who could at least understand and appreciate her father's work. It would seem less of a defilement of something sacred to her. Additionally, she silently hoped it would change his view of her, shaped by that unfortunate accident that befell them both. Why she hoped that, she had no idea.

Her tone however, suggested otherwise, as Peeta took it as more of a taunt and challenge than anything.

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you?" He turned away from her as he paced across the room, stepping over the fallen Haymitch and proceeding until he was significantly distanced from her. Something about her presence unnerved him, and she smelled too good for someone dressed so badly. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you're stuck with me. There's no way in hell I'm giving up this chance."

Katniss didn't get the information she wanted. What chance? A chance to make it big? A chance to make some cash? A chance to do her dad justice? She again hoped for the latter.

Katniss backed down and sat herself on the piano chair, laying her hand on the keys playing nonsensical notes. "At least you want to be here."

Peeta turned back to her, his face suddenly softening. "What do you mean?" Her words seemed preposterous to him. "Anyone I know would give an arm and a leg to be here." His voice quivered at the words that suddenly hit too close to home. "I'm glad I'm here." He finished, hoping his resolute answer hid his moment of weakness.

"Well I'm not." She answered, mostly to herself, but he heard.

"Yeah, of course you're not." He leaned against the piano and crossed his arms, regaining his composure and feeling the vibrations of each key she pressed. "It must be so hard for you. Going through your father's songs and getting to claim all the glory for yourself. Tell the world, how great you are and take credit for everything he's strived for in life. Not bothering to even acknowledge his death, hiding yourself for all these years. You must have hated him."

Katniss stopped playing.

"Take that back." She whispered. Outside, the wind blew stronger.

"It's true, isn't it?" He taunted. The rain poured with more intensity.

Katniss kicked back her seat in rage as she stood up, slamming her hands onto the piano, the sound it made echoing her feelings. "Take that back!"

"Isn't that why they call you The Beast? Yeah I've heard about you. If it's any consolation, nobody likes you ei-"

Katniss stood in front of him, ready to raise a hand to his face for a slap.

And then the lights went out.

Peeta had braced himself for the blow, but it never came. In its place, deafening thunder bellowed, one blow after the other.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness to find Katniss was nowhere in sight. Had she disappeared with the thunder? What was she, some kind of witch?

A small sob, however, alerted him to her still presence, its source betraying her.

One sob, then another followed from under the piano as the thunder continued to roll, with increasing fervor. Peeta peered under the large instrument to find Katniss curled up in a ball, eyes tightly shut, hands over her ears, and tears threatening to fall as she rocked herself back and forth.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice grew soft as he reached out for her. She recoiled at his touch, violently turning away from him before resuming her self-developed ministrations. "Katniss, it's just thunder."

A large flash of lighting struck, which lit the room momentarily, long enough to allow Peeta to see clearly the fear written in Katniss face to understand that this was more than just a silly fear of thunder. "Katniss come here."

She shook her head violently, shutting her eyes tighter as her rocking intensified. "Katniss, I'm not going to hurt you." Peeta urged, his voice suddenly pleading. He had no idea why her fear affected him so. "I'm sorry. Just come here."

The next flash of lightning was bright and blinding, and the ensuing thunder had Katniss throw herself at the man, catching him momentarily off guard.

The warmth of her tears distinguished themselves clearly from the cold dampness of his shirt, and he couldn't help but hold the quivering girl tighter against his frame as he rubbed her back, at a loss as to how to proceed. She seemed so small in his arms at this moment, and he could feel her shivering frame curl tighter against itself as the thunder only seemed to grow louder. He could not believe that the same woman he had heard to be ruthless, manipulative and unforgiving was the same girl he held in his arms. Slowly, he started to question if any of those rumors held any truth in them at all and he berated himself for even believing at all. It took less than a second for the hardened shell of a woman to crumble into nothing. Was that why she had abandoned all traces of her name and the fame that accompanied it? Looking at her now as she balled her fists tighter against her ears, all her actions were more out of self-preservation than anything else. He then noticed how frail she actually was under the baggy t-shirt she wore and suddenly realized how fragile she truly was. And then he understood.

"I guess even The Beast has its weaknesses."

Katniss didn't answer. Instead she buried her face further into the crook of his neck praying for the thunder to stop.

And then she sang.

Her voice was soft and quiet. The thunder continued to roar and barely made it possible to hear, but Peeta heard. And it was the most beautiful thing his ears had perceived.

Between labored breaths and sobs, Katniss continued to sing to herself, hoping to drown out the noise of the relentless storm and Peeta rocked her back and forth, the only thing he could contribute to making her feel better.

After a while the thunder ceased and the lullaby drew to a close. The rain, however, continued to pour, unyielding. Katniss still held herself tight in Peeta's embrace, and he was in no hurry to let go, lest a sudden burst of thunder scare the poor girl to death.

"What was that about?" Peeta whispered softly as the air grew quiet, loosening his grip, but still refusing to let her escape his embrace. A few minutes passed without an answer and Peeta was content to leave it at that. He had no right to dig at her personal issues.

Katniss' breath slowed and her sobs grew sparse. "Explosions." She answered simply.

This was surprising to Peeta. What did explosions have to do with thunder and lightning?

"I don't like loud noises, or lighting or thunder. I don't like-"

"Explosions." Peeta finished for her.

She gently pried herself away from his hold as she adjusted herself, turning away in embarrassment. She was so weak, and Peeta had been more than accommodating, indulging her childish phobias. He wasn't so bad, she decided. He did have the decency to set aside the apparent dislike he had for her to at least not make her feel like a weak fool. Secretly, she thanked him for the support, although she tried to convince herself that she'd have handled it fine on her own.

In the darkness, there was no judgment. No preconceived thoughts, or rumors to set them against each other. And in the darkness, Peeta felt a connection to this girl he barely knew. Maybe she wasn't such a beast after all.

Even apart, he could still feel the heat emanating from where she sat, just inches from him, too afraid to move from her spot. She left a tingling sensation where her face buried itself against the crook of her neck, and Peeta suddenly felt a surge of emptiness as the sudden lack of warmth.

"The song-" Peeta began, in an effort to distract himself from these confusing emotions.

"It was my father's." Katniss answered too quickly, eager to ease the tension that seemed to be building.

"How come I've never heard it before?" He asked further. It was true, he hadn't.

Katniss paused before she answered. Was she ready to bare her life to this man? In her head, she remembered Gale's warning look. Trust no one. She looked at the man who sat against the leg of the large piano, his eyes focused at a distance, a grave look on his face. She had the sudden urge to unfurrow the creases between his brows but she resisted. "He sang it to me and my sister when we were younger." She halted briefly before she continued. "And unfortunately, I doubt his label thought a lullaby would bide well amongst some of his greater hits."

Peeta dwelled on her answer. For someone whom Snow made out to be spiteful of her father, she spoke of him with such a tender quality to her voice, and as he snuck a glance at her from the side, he witnessed a lone tear run down her face. She was sincere.

"I didn't hate him." She said finally, unnerved by his silence. "No, that isn't right. I don't hate him." She corrected herself, for once more sure of the statement than ever.

Peeta finally turned to her fully, to find his eyes meet hers in the darkness. Was it possible for her grey eyes glowed with the intensity that they did at that moment? Beyond his control, he found his hand reaching out for hers. "I'm sorry about what I said."

"You didn't mean it." Katniss replied. It was a lie. At that time, she was sure he did. "But it's fine. I didn't expect you to like me anyway-" before she could finish her sentence, a warm touch on her hand caused her to jump, making her hit her head against the bottom of the piano.

She stood up immediately, recoiling from the touch and rubbing her head furiously at the spot she had bruised. "Ow."

It was then that the lights decided come back on, revealing a large Peeta, still crouched down under the Piano and a flushed Katniss squirming at the thought of what had just happened.

Peeta immediately stood up as the sound of the power returning throughout the studio rung through the hallways, clearing his throat to alleviate the awkward atmosphere. What had gotten in to him? He thought to himself as he looked at his own traitorous hand, the spot where he had made contact with hers still burning with quite an intensity.

"I guess we should get started then." Katniss provided, looking around to see Haymitch still splayed out on the floor and various documents now scattered and messy from the earlier altercation. She had regained her stern tone, determined to complete the project with a professional mindset. She was already at a loss as to how to deal with this man. He wasn't like the others she could so easily boss around, or like Cato who she had wrapped around her finger with a single purr of her voice. She frowned, realizing that although she could manipulate this man just as she had any other, she didn't have the heart to. At least not anymore. She shot a glance at him, seeing how he would react.

"Uh sure." He shrugged complying. "Think we need to wake the drunk?"

They looked at each other for a moment before both doubling over in laughter.

"Nah."


Notes:

Is it wrong to say I enjoyed writing Snow's maniacal dialogue at the boardroom? For some reason it felt so empowering to write. Ahaha I'm an evil dictator in the making. Needless to say, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm not even sure if stuff like this happens in those big entertainment companies. I'm winging it, really. I hope you guys don't mind. But anyway, yay! Katniss and Peeta interaction. Finally! Congrats to GIFtoJPG who guessed right that the guy in the motorcycle was in fact Peeta, and to Marj who got to see an extended preview of this chapter.

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Chapter 3: Familia

The rain continued to pour as the two got to work going through songs, classifying them and filtering them for content. Peeta was comfortable to work with, Katniss decided, and she found herself letting more of her guard down as the work progressed.

It was difficult seeing the title and lyrics of each song and then suddenly recalling the inspiration behind them. She had thought about her dad more in these few hours than in all the days she had gone to his grave to commemorate his death. She hated to admit it, but she was lying to herself all those years, telling herself that she allowed herself to feel for at least one day a year when in reality she would make her way there with Prim still fighting back the memories that flooded her at the mere sight of his grave. She didn't honor him in the way he deserved.

"Hey, look at this." Peeta said from behind her, snapping her out of her daze. He was now rummaging through CDs and their packaging, nitpicking through album art, credits and acknowledgements. He held up an album cover and she walked over to him to take a closer look before stopping when realized what he held in his hand. "This you?" he asked.

Katniss nodded. In his hand was the cover of one of her father's earlier albums, Panem and Familia, an album dedicated to their family which made account of the hardships of living with a dream as elusive as making it in the music industry with the support of his family. She scanned the picture wistfully. There she was at seven, each of her hands clasped firmly on her father's and her mother's clothes, a blissful smile on her face. Her mother smiled with the awareness that her blank gaze couldn't afford her these days, her belly plump with the growing baby inside her. Prim. At first her eyes refused to meet those of her father's in the picture, but when they did, they were met with the warmest and truest of smiles.

'He looked so happy'. She thought and instead of shedding tears as she had thought she would, she found herself smiling back, a sudden warmth enveloping her inside.

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