A/N: OMJ guys, thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I'm not ditching Chafed or Omega, by the way, I just want to have fun with a more modern day story (:

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or the lyrics to 'Unchained Melody.'

Chapter Two

At first, it was accidental. There was something about Peeta's cardigan that didn't want to leave the classroom. Every single day, without fail, he forgot to take it with him to his next class. It got so bad that he began to worry that Mr Hadley was going to think he was an airhead, even though the tutor didn't show a flicker of that across his face. Unless his smile had a sublimional message of, 'Poor sad boy, always forgetting his cardigan. There has to be something wrong with that kid.'

After two weeks of class, Peeta realized that he was beginning to purposely leave the cardigan behind. As sad as it was, it was nice to talk to Mr Hadley. Their small conversations were nice, even if when they held eye contact too long, Peeta would get flustered and have to quickly leave lest make a fool out of himself. Madge didn't mind covering for him if they had a class next but she always had this silly smirk on her face every time they split in the corridor. Probably her dirty mind at work.

It turned out that Dance class didn't just involve dance, it involved anything muscial as well. This made Peeta re-think his anger at Madge for signing them up because, even though he would never do anything in front of people himself, music was one of the things he absoloutely adored. Madge knew this . . . maybe that was why she signed them up. When they were kids, they made plans to form a rock band. They were going to call themselves, 'The Merchants,' and were apparently going to take the world by storm. Except they never got round to it. Peeta knew it was his fault but Madge refused to let him think like that.

It was Peeta's fault though, he knew it was. Before he developed the social anxiety that seemed to follow him from puberty onwards, he had been a very confident child. Mostly because he hadn't realized the many opportunities for humiliation and disgrace until his voice broke and the acne came. But it had been his idea to start a band and Madge fell in love with it. But when the social anxiety did come, it became a struggle to even keep up idle chat with his friends. That's why they all grew apart and haven't talked to each other for years. But Madge stuck with him and didn't let him get scared of her. She was really the only friend he had from his childhood who he wasn't uncomfortable talking to.

The Dance classes were taken by Portia (she didn't tell them any other name and told them to call her Portia, nothing else). For the first two weeks, they did nothing but introductions to the course and some theory work. But at the start of the third week of the year, things got a bit more interesting.

"Okay class," Portia said, clapping her hands to capture everyone's attention. Her gold finger nails caught the light, the one sparkly nail on the forefinger of each hand confusing Peeta. Why was one fingernail always different from the others? It didn't seem to make sense. "I'm curious as to what the people in the class are capable of. Does anyone have a musical background?"

"Katniss sings Miss!" The girl who sat at the front of the room immediately announced. Peeta vaugely remembered her name was Delly. With a high pitched voice and outspoken attitude, Delly was one of the more extroverted people in the class.

Katniss used to be one of his friends. They shared lunches back in Pre-K and continued to do so in middle school until high school. It wasn't that Katniss left him when social situations started getting difficult for Peeta but, when her dad died, she seemed to grow away from everyone. Even now, she was shrinking into her seat, looking like she wished she could just disappear. Peeta remembered her singing voice well, also remembering that she did not like to showcase it. It made him wonder what she was doing in Dance class at all.

"It's not like it's an instrument or anything," she sheepishly mumbled.

"Don't put yourself down, Katniss," Portia encouraged. "Your voice can be the most powerful instrument you can have."

"Well Madge can sing too!" Katniss quickly declared, seeming to not want to be the only one in the class being singled out. As far as Peeta knew, Katniss and Madge were still quite good friends. Maybe Madge had a knack for keeping her friends stuck to her like glue, no matter how many people they grew away from.

Madge gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her throat in surprise. "I can?" she asked sarcastically. "I didn't realize!" Sometimes Peeta wondered what it would be like to be as confident as Madge, to not give a damn about what other people thought of him and to be open and loud. "Nah, I know. Golden throat, that's me."

Portia beamed. "Excellent! Can anyone play an instrument?"

"Like our fantabulous voices aren't enough," Madge joked, nudging Katniss with her elbow. Portia chuckled, liking her classes to have a laid back and casual atmosphere. No one put themselves forward to answer the question though. No one seemed to play an instrument. Maybe most of them just came for the dancing. Understandable enough, since it was called Dance class.

"No one?" Portia sounded slightly disappointed.

"Peeta plays piano," Delly said. The mere sound of his name made his heart stutter and Peeta glanced at Delly out of the corner of his eye. How did she know that? He never played in front of anyone. "I remember hearing the music teacher in Middle School trying to convince him to play for the Christmas talent show."

"He doesn't anymore," Madge quickly said.

Delly frowned. "Can you forget something like that?"she asked.

"I wouldn't think so," Portia put forward. "Do you think you can still play, Peeta?"

Still play? I play nearly every day. I just don't play in front of people.

Oh god, all eyes were on him. Swallowing hard to wet his dry throat, Peeta shook his head. "I-I wouldn't r-r-remember any songs," he lied. Delly didn't look convinced, neither did Portia. Madge was squirming nervously in her seat, twiddling with her thumbs as if trying to think of something else she could say to save him.

"Here," Portia said. She placed a book onto Peeta's desk, opening it at a random page. It was filled with songs. All of them pretty basic, he could do them with his eyes closed. "Why don't you play the class something?"

"Oh no Miss, that's not fair," Madge quickly blurted out.

"Let Peeta answer for himself," Delly said. "God Madge, sometimes you sound like his play-by-play."

"Oh shut up Delly," Madge replied.

This was one of those situations that didn't have an easy way out. There was no way in hell he could go to the piano at the top of the room and play something. What if he missed a key or messed up because of all the eyes watching him? But saying no to Portia's face didn't feel any better either. What if she was offended? Got mad at him for not doing what she asked of him?

"Come on, give it a go," Portia insisted. She sort of ushered him out of his seat, not even noticing the war going on inside of him. Peeta looked at Madge in a panic and begged her to do something with his eyes.

"Oh my god, what's that?!" Madge screamed, pointing out the window. Everyone turned to look at where she was pointing, even Peeta. He yelped when Madge grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him back into his seat. "Oh goodness, it was just a crow!"

Thankfully, Portia forgot about what they had been talking about. Peeta shrank into his seat, trying to seem even more small than he had before. He didn't want to be picked out again, certainly not about his piano or, even worse, his painting. He was lucky to have someone like Madge as a friend, or else he'd have been screwed over long ago.

~xXx~

"Basically, gas exchange can take place in a plant or an animal," Mr Hadley explained. "In an animal, it takes place in the alveolus in the lungs and in a plant it takes place in the cell membrane . . ."

Madge leaned over in her seat, frowning at the amount of notes on Peeta's sheet and comparing them to her own. "Damn," she whispered. She'd only filled half a page whereas Peeta was on his third sheet. Scratching the back of her head with a frown, she awkwardly twisted her head to read off Peeta's watch. "Oh well, only five minutes left."

"You can get a lot done in five minutes," Peeta muttered, continuing to copy out what Mr Hadley was writing out on the black board. Madge read some of the stuff he written.

"In single-celled organisms diffusion can occur straight across the cell membrane; as organisms increase in size . . . whaa?" She sat back and looked at her page blankly which only consisted of a brief description of what respiration was and 'Mr Hadley is hot' written in cursive with a glitter pen and surrounded in hearts. "Where you getting this from, Mellark?"

"The textbook," Peeta answered.

"Um, right, about that, can I borrow yours?"

"Where's yours?!"

"I left it at home!"

Just then, the bell rang, indicating the end of class and the end of the day. Madge sighed overdramtically, jumping up and sweeping her books into her bag. "Let's go!" she exclaimed, hopping down the steps two at a time. They were just out of the room and down the corridor when Madge stopped and slapped her forehead. "Oh wait, let me guess, No sex Mellark has forgotten his cardigan, hasn't he?"

Peeta scowled. "No," he lied.

"Then where is it?"

"Erm . . ."

Madge grinned. "Thought so." She lightly slapped his arm. "Go on then. See you tomorrow."

"See you Madge." Peeta spun on his heel and was half way back to class when she cat called:

"Tell Mr Hadley I said hi!"

"Sssh!" Peeta was pretty sure he was blushing as he knocked on the door. He wondered if Mr Hadley had cottoned on to what he had been up to for the past two weeks. And, if he had, that he didn't see him as a freak or a stalker. The thought of staying in school, even for just a little bit longer, was a lot more appealing than going home.

"Come in Peeta."

Peeta jumped, alarmed that Mr Hadley automatically knew it was him. It made him feel stupid opening the door and walking in. He ignored his heart-which always seemed to weep in want when he laid eyes on his tutor. Mr Hadley was sitting at his desk, a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read something from the book in front of him.

"That darn cardigan again?"

Peeta nodded mutely, not knowing what else he could do. When he turned to collect it, he realized it wasn't there. Mind going into overdrive, he panicked as he tried to think of what could have possibly happened to it. He looked back at Mr Hadley, who looked like he was trying to hold back a smirk.

"D-Do you know where i-it is?"

Mr Hadley stood up and walked around his desk. Peeta felt fear bubble up inside him as the man approached him. Was it just his imagination or had his eyes gotten greener? The tutor took his elbow and turned him around so he faced the door. Peeta looked at the hand clasped around his arm, noticing how strong Mr Hadley's grip was.

"I hung it on the hook," his tutor told him.

True to his word, Peeta's blue cardigan was hanging from the hook on the back of the door, ontop of the black military jacket Mr Hadley always wore. "Oh," was all Peeta could think to reply with. "T-Thank you." He stood stock still, terrified to move out of fear of doing something wrong. His skin was on fire from where his tutor still held onto his arm, the tendrails travelling up his arm and squeezing his heart.

He looked at Mr Hadley just in time to catch the tutor looking away. It made him wonder if he didn't want to look at him. Mr Hadley took the cardigan off the hook and handed it to Peeta. As he sheepishly shrugged it on, he couldn't help noticing that it smelt like Mr Hadly himself. Of some musky cologne and a small tint of citrus fruit. Peeta almost swooned on the spot.

"If you wait a minute, I'll walk you out," Mr Hadley said, going to his desk and collecting a couple of things up. "I have to talk to you about something anyway."

He did?

What did he have to talk to him about?

Was it bad?

Peeta inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth, a technique he used to smooth his frayed nerves. If Mr Hadley had to talk to him about something bad, he wouldn't have seemed so calm and casual . . . right? To distract himself from his racing thoughts, he zipped up his cardigan and adjusted the tassels so they both hung at equal length.

Mr Hadley slung his satchel over his shoulder and grabbed his coat off the door, pulling it open and gesturing for Peeta to go out first. They stopped outside the door so Mr Hadley could lock the classroom. "So, Peeta, here's the thing," he began. "As head of Pastrol Care, if a problem is brought to me, I'm supposed to follow it, and a couple of days ago Delly Cartwright visited my class and told me she's concerned about how you're adjusting to college life."

"S-She did?" What the hell? What did Delly care about him? Then again, she did seem like the annoying 'concerned for all' type. Those people were always very irritating, poking their noses were they aren't welcome.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed that you always look slightly uncomfortable," Mr Hadley said. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah!" Peeta blurted out, a bit too quickly. "Everything's fine!"

"What do you think has concerned Miss Cartwright, then?"

"Uh . . ." His knuckles were bone white as he desperately clutched his bag straps. The proximity between himself and Mr Hadley as they walked down the corridor made his heart flutter. "Delly's very excitable . . . maybe she's gotten the wrong impression?"

Mr Hadley raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Are you sure about that?" he asked.

"Yeah," Peeta replied. It was half true. Delly was very excitable.

"If you're worried about telling me about your SA, I already know. It was in your class file," Mr Hadley told him.

Oh god, why did he let his father tell the school about his SA? According to his dad, it wasn't a question of whether Peeta wanted the school to know or not, they had to be aware of his . . . 'problem' in case he took an attack in class. Noticing his hesitation, Mr Hadley gestured to the deserted corridor.

"I'm not trying to pry into your personal life, I'm just letting you know that if Delly is right-in any shape or form-then my door's always open for a chat," he said. "I can't pretend to know what it's like to go through what you do on a daily basis but sometimes just talking about these things can help."

Peeta nodded, unable to speak through his dry mouth. He wanted to say something and sound cool but he couldn't gather enough of his shredded confidence to do so. Instead he forced a smile, immediately feeling stupid because he probably looked like a manaic. Swallowing hard, he said, "Thank you . . . Mr Hadley."

They reached the exit and stopped in the threshold. "Remember, it's only school. It isn't the end of the world. You'll get through it," Mr Hadley said.

Peeta nodded again. His heart was squeezed so tight it felt like it was going to explode in his chest and leave him lying in a heap on the floor. "Thanks," he mumbled again, ducking through the door as Mr Hadley opened it for him. He jumped down the steps at the front of the school in two giant leaps, scared that if he turned around and looked at his tutor as he left, he'd pass out.

He was almost positive he felt eyes on the back of his head, watching him as he left campus.

~xXx~

"Oh, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch. A long, lonely time." As any pianist would know, the moment your fingers touch the keys, you're lost. In the music, in your mind, the melody. It's like a spell falls over you and you're gone. It's not a bad spell. In fact, most use it to escape from everything that's going on around them. "And time goes by so slowly and time can do so much. Are you still mine?"

Peeta was taught to play by his Aunt Mardgary. She had a beautiful piano in her house. It was sleek and black as night, always having sat infront of her patio doors. He could still remember sitting beside her when he was little, his hands not big even to reach all the keys and having to scurrying around to find them. She used to do vocal exercises with him as well.

When his Aunt died, he didn't stop playing. But Mardgary was the only person he did it in front of, he wasn't comfortable with the idea of doing it with anyone else. "I need your love, I oh I need your love. God speed your love to me."

Something made him open his eyes and stop. He stared at the keys of the music room piano blankly, wondering what he was doing. The room was empty, obviously, but Peeta wasn't sure what possessed him to play on it. Or sing one of his favourite songs for that matter.

He looked at the classroom door. It was ajar. Had he left it open? Unnerved, he grabbed his bag and left. This was one of the reasons why he didn't play in public. He'd forget things or the ways they were when he started and finished. Peeta was terrified of the idea of someone having heard him.

Okay, so this time Peeta had forgotten his cardigan.

He went to the Biology room and peered in through the slit in the door. Mr Hadley wasn't there but his cardigan was, folded up on his tutor's desk. Peeta crossed the room and picked it up, smiling at how it still had the musk and citrus scent. He couldn't help noticing that Mr Hadley had left his computer open, the screen blaring a white glow and the battery humming.

Curious, he slipped into the seat behind the desk and examined what was on the screen. It was just a Windows home screen but two tabs were open along the bottom bar. When Peeta clicked on one, it simply opened up a lesson plan for the next day in the form of a slide show. He clicked on the next one, which was definitely not a lesson plan.

It was like a set of qualities set out in bullet points, as if Mr Hadley was trying to figure something out:

Crystal blue eyes.

Hair like individual threads of gold.

Smooth lips, like two pink rose petals.

Milky white skin.

Meek as a mouse.

Voice as smooth as silk.

Barely says a word.

Most beautiful thing on this earth.

Peeta frowned. What was he doing? Planning a fictional character? Maybe he was writing a novel. His eyes skimmed down the page until it reached the bottom. The list was endless. Maybe he was describing a girlfriend or something . . . Peeta felt his heart sink.

He felt immediately sick. Oh god, he shouldn't even be reading this . . . He scrambled out of the seat and quickly pulled his jacket on. Just as he was struggling with the zip, the door opened and Mr Hadley came back in. Peeta jumped and resisted the urge to burst into tears right there on the spot. Was he going to get angry at him for being there when he shouldn't be?

"Get your cardigan?" Mr Hadley simply asked, that beautiful smile still on his face. Peeta nodded and walked past him really fast without saying another word. It was only when he reached the door that he realized that he hadn't closed the window. "Peeta?" Mr Hadley suddenly said.

Peeta looked around, his heart stopping when he saw Mr Hadley looking at his computer screen. They met eyes and Peeta could see just how horrified his teacher was. Terrified, he grabbed the doorhandle and threw it open, running out of the classroom.

"Peeta! Wait!"

He didn't wait, he left the college as fast as he could. He was worried. About how attached he had gotten over two weeks and how the idea of Mr Hadley having a special other half had him super upset. God, he was such a freak.

Why would someone like Mr Hadley like him anyways?

A/N: Please R&R with your thoughts! I hope you liked it! :D