Hi, everyone! I'm so sorry, I know it has been over 2 weeks since I updated this story. But between school and work, I just haven't really had time. I'm hoping to do better in the future though, I will make time for you guys! A giant thank you to all who have read, followed, favorited, and reviewed. It really means a lot to me that you like this story. A huge thanks, as usual to Artemis Rose, who edited this chapter, as she has with all the others. She's awesome, I love her, and I don't know what I would do without her. The Games begin in next chapter, so hopefully you guys will like my take on what Peeta does while separated. Other than that, I think that's it. Except, please, please, please, review. I really like hearing from you guys. I want to make sure I'm doing Peeta and his thoughts justice, and I would love to know if you think I am. And then, of course, I do not own the Hunger Games, or any dialogue spoken while Katniss is present. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

Shock waves wash over the crowd as what I have just said sinks in. I see the cameras flash to Katniss' face, who is wearing a look of complete shock, before choosing to hide her expression.

"Oh, that is a peace of bad luck," I hear Caesar say, drawing my attention back to him.

"It's not good," I reply, shaking my head.

Caesar gives me a sad smile, "Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady. She didn't know?"

"Not until now," I shake my head again.

I chance a look at the screen, and see Katniss is blushing. I know how much I embarrassed her. I don't think she likes attention much, and now all of Panem will be talking about her.

Caesar addresses the audience, bringing the cameras back on us. "Wouldn't you love to pull her back out here and get a response?" There is a cheer from the crowd. "Sadly, rules are rules," Caesar continues. "And Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours."

The crowd lets out a cry of disappointment, as I murmur a thank you, and walk back to my seat. As the anthem plays, all the tributes stare out at the crowd. I just want it to end; I need to get back to the penthouse and asses the damage I did with Katniss. I know she is upset, but hopefully when I explain why I did it, she'll forgive me.

As soon as the anthem ends, Katniss takes off. I try to follow her, but the crowd of tributes, stylists, mentors, and escorts gets in my way. As I'm fighting through the people, I see her get onto an elevator, and go up to our floor. After minutes of struggling to get to the elevators, I finally manage to get onto one, with the tributes from Eight and Ten.

"Just talk to her," I think. "She wasn't expecting that. The surprise probably got to her. Just explain, and everything will be fine." That's all I can hope for. I know Katniss is angry, but I hope that she'll understand my reasoning. I'm trying to protect her, to get her home. Haymitch and I agreed that this was the best way to do that. Tug at the Capitol citizens' heartstrings, and make them want to help us.

As the elevator doors open, my eyes sweep the room for Katniss. There is no sign of her at first, but as I walk out into the penthouse, I feel a pair of hands collide with my torso. The force of her shove, combined with my surprise, sends me flying backwards into an urn. I feel the shards pierce my hands, and look down to see the thick, hot, red blood seeping from my new wounds.

"What was that for?" I ask, looking up at her, angry. I knew she was embarrassed, but this is way worse than I thought. She's more than embarrassed, she's pissed.

"You had no right!" Katniss screams. "No right to go saying those things about me!"

I'm about to respond when I see the elevator arrive again, and in come Haymitch, Effie, and both stylists.

They stop, taking in the scene. Effie's eyes widen as she sees the blood coming out of my hands.

"What's going on?" Effie asks, scared. "Did you fall?"

I snort, "after she shoved me."

Haymitch takes his attention off me, and directs it towards Katniss, "shoved him?"

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Katniss asks, dodging his question. "Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?"

I can't let Haymitch take the fall for this one. This was my idea, and I'm going to be a man and own up to it. "It was my idea," I tell her, while removing shards of the urn from my hands. "Haymitch just helped me with it."

This seems to make Katniss even angrier. "Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. To you!"

"You are a fool," Haymitch tells her, a tone of condescension in his voice. "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you could never achieve on your own."

"He made me look weak!" she screams, voice cutting through the air.

"He made you look desirable!" Haymitch retorts. "And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until he said he wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District Twleve!"

"But we're not star-crossed lovers," Katniss practically spits.

"Who cares?" Haymitch asks, grabbing her, demanding her attention. I'm fairly sure that Haymitch is trying very hard not to employ a few of his favorite swear words, to spare himself a lecture from Effie, but his patience is wearing very thin. "It's all a big show," he continues. "It's all how you're perceived. The most I could say about you after your interview was that you were nice enough, although that in itself was a small miracle. Now I can say you're a heartbreaker. Oh, oh, oh, how the boys fall longingly at your feet. Which do you think will get you more sponsors?"

Katniss' nose wrinkles in disgust, as she loosens herself from Haymitch's grip. I see Cinna walk over, draping his arm across her shoulders.

"He's right, Katniss," he tells her. Hopefully she will listen to Cinna and calm down. I don't know how, but those two seem to have some sort of bond, and she obviously trusts him.

"I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid," Katniss says meekly, looking at her shoes.

"No, your reaction was perfect," Portia assures her, making me like my stylist even more. She seems determined to stand up for me. "If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real."

"She's just worried about her boyfriend," I let the jealousy color my voice. Now Katniss knows that I do know about Gale, and the bond that they share.

I see her blush, "I don't have a boyfriend."

I snort, "whatever. I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it." And even if he is, he might still believe my love declaration, considering it was real. "Besides," I go on, "you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?"

Katniss' look goes from angry to embarrassed, as she realizes we were all only trying to help her. I knew she'd be upset, but I never imagined she'd be this angry. I thought she would have been embarrassed, but once I explained everything, she would have been fine. However the girl didn't really give me a chance to explain why. Hopefully, now that she does understands, she won't be as distraught.

"After he said he loved me," Katniss looks at us. "Did you think I could be in love with him, too?"

"I did," Portia tells her. "The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush."

Everyone nods, and gives their assent.

"You're golden, sweetheart," Haymitch informs her. "You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block."

Finally, for the first time since the interview, Katniss' eyes meet mine. "I'm sorry I shoved you."

I shrug my shoulders, showing my indifference. "Doesn't matter. Although, it's technically illegal."

"Are your hands okay?" her voice has some concern in it, though not nearly as much as I wish it did.

"They'll be all right," I assure her.

"Come on, let's eat," Haymitch directs us to the dining room, seeing as a mouthwatering smell is coming out of there. As we begin to eat, my hands have still not stopped bleeding, so I go off with Portia to get them all fixed up. A medic puts an ointment on them that is supposed to help them heal quickly, before wrapping them in bandages. By the time Portia and I return, the rest of them have finished the soup.

As soon as dinner is over, we go and watch the recap of the interviews. Katniss is spectacular, between discussing her training score, and best of all, Prim; she is magnificent, and unforgettable. I, on the other hand, watch myself and feel that I come off as awkward. The only thing about me people will remember is the fact that I'm in love with Katniss, and the fact that we can never be together. But, that might just be significant and memorable enough to save her life.

As soon as it's over, Katniss and I know we have to go to bed. Haymitch and Effie won't be able to see us in the morning, since they will be getting us sponsors and attempting to figure out what to use the money on.

Effie grabs are hands, and I'm touched when I see the tears in her eyes, threatening to brim over.

"You two," Effie's voice cracks. "I just want you to know how proud I am to have been your escort. You did wonderfully. I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!"

"Really?" I think. "That's how you want to say good-bye to us?" However, I am heartened when she kisses both of us on each cheek, before swiftly running from the room, trying to keep us from seeing the tears that are falling down her face.

I direct my attention to Haymitch, "any final words of advice?"

Haymitch locks eyes with both of us for a moment, before starting. "When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopia. Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water. Got it?"

"And after that?" Katniss inquires, her tone serious.

"Stay alive," but unlike the train, his face is unsmiling. He really means it this time, and he's right. That is the next step, finding a way to survive.

Katniss heads to her room, but I decide to wait around for a few minutes. Portia is still here, so I walk over to her.

"Thanks for taking me to the medic," I say.

She smiles at me, "any time, Peeta."

I sigh, "Gosh, how am I going to sleep tonight?"

"I don't know. But you need to try. You're doomed if you're exhausted. You need your rest."

I hear Katniss' door close. "Yeah, you're right," I agree with her, before heading off into my own room.

I decide to take a quick shower, ridding my body of all the make-up. As soon as I'm dry, I climb into bed. As desperate as I am to fall asleep, I can't. I keep thinking about tomorrow, and what I'm going to have to do to stay alive, and more importantly, save Katniss. Chances are, I'm going to have to kill people, and the thought terrifies me. I don't want to do that; I'm not a murderer. Yet, if I want to save Katniss, most likely, that's what I will have to become. I just don't want to become one of those bloodthirsty psychopaths we see in the arena. I want to be myself, or at least as much of myself as I can be, while in there. I climb out of bed, suddenly feeling restrained by the sheets, and decide to go up to the roof. Hopefully some fresh air will help me.

I have been up there for about an hour, willing myself to get tired, while continuing to ponder how to achieve my goal in the arena, without allowing the Games to change me. All of the sudden, I hear someone speak behind me.

"You really should be getting some sleep," Katniss says.

I jolt, but continue to look out at the city. With her light hunter's tread, I didn't hear her come up, but am glad she did.

"I don't want to miss the party," I tell her. "It's for us, after all."

She stands next to me, looking at the Capitol, too. "Are they in costumes?"

I laugh. "Who could tell? With all the crazy clothes they wear here," I sigh. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off," she shakes her head.

"Thinking about your family?" I ask, knowing how important they are to her.

Katniss looks like she just committed a crime. "No. All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course." I see her eyes go to my palms. "I really am sorry about your hands."

I give her a weak smile, "it doesn't matter, Katniss. I've never been a contender in these Games anyway."

"That's no way to be thinking."

"Why not? It's true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and…" I stop. I want to tell her about how I want to remain myself, but I don't know how she'll take it.

"And what?" she asks.

I decide to just tell her. It can't be that bad, no worse then telling the whole country that I'm in love with her. "I don't know how to say it exactly. Only…I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" I see her shake her head, no. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

Katniss looks saddened. "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"

I shake my head. "No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to… to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games."

"But your not," she reminds me. "None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"Okay," I give her. "But within that framework, there's still you, there's still me. Do you see?"

"A little," she responds. "Only…no offense, but who cares, Peeta?"

"I do," I tell her. "I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" There is anger in my voice, as I try and make her see that I know I'm dead, and I just want to still be me.

Katniss looks startled. "Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive."

I snort, as my eyes roll. I'm not going to survive these Games, I wrote myself off a long time ago. She's the one who needs to win these Games. "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart."

"Look," Katniss is annoyed now. "If you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some noble death in the arena, that's your choice. I want to spend mine in District Twelve."

I smile at her. "Wouldn't surprise me if you do. Give my mother my best when you make it back, will you?"

"Count on it," she assures me, before turning back towards the door, and descending the staircase back into the penthouse. I stay there for a few more minutes before realizing that I'm not going to get any sleep while standing up here, so I decide to head back down to my room.

Sleep comes about an hour or two after I return to my room. Despite the lack of rest, I'm, luckily, not feeling tired. All the extra sleep and naps since I've been here have made me fairly well rested, and I'm grateful.

Portia comes in, and throws simple pants and a shirt at me. I dress, and she takes me to the roof. Katniss is nowhere to be seen. Since the Games don't start until ten, I will have a few hours in my holding cell below the arena to eat breakfast, change into the tribute outfit, and mentally prepare myself for what's to come.

I climb on the ladder that will take me to the hovercraft. I am frozen in place as the ladder brings me to my transportation. On my way to the arena, a man comes by with a syringe, sticking it in my arm, and implanting what I assume to be my tracker. This way the Gamemakers will know where I am at all times, and, more importantly, when my heart stops beating so they can fire a cannon.

Not that long after boarding the hovercraft, we touch down, and I am taken to my holding cell. I eat some eggs and toast, before Portia brings out my tribute outfit.

It's a simple set of pants, with a black shirt and boots. It's not until she holds up the jacket that Portia gets excited. "This is really special. The material reflects body heat. It will be invaluable. Based on the rest of the outfits, I'd guess forest, but the jacket suggests cold nights."

I nod and put on the jacket.

Portia grabs my shoulders, and meets my eyes. "Do you have a District token?"

"No," I shake my head. "I don't have anything."

"Okay," she nods.

We sit, mostly silently, as I sip water, not knowing when I will see it again. Occasionally, I ask what time it is. Suddenly, a woman's voice rings through the room, telling me to get into the tube that will take me to my demise. I stand up and do as instructed.

Portia smiles at me, as I prepare to be lifted into the arena. "You're a great person, Peeta. It has been a pleasure being your stylist. I hope we meet again." She smiles weakly at the last part.

"Thank you," I say, as the tube encloses me. Then I am being lifted.

"Here we go," I think, as I am taken to my death. I know I will have sixty seconds to get my bearings, before the gong will sound and the tributes will be after each other.

As my plate stops, I hear Claudius Templesmith, the announcer say, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

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