And if I'm going to find a way, then I'm gonna find a way.
Johanna balanced herself on the cold metal ladder her mother had gotten out for her. One boot was firmly placed on the top rung, the other on the top of the ladder, obscuring the warning that read "do not step here." The cold wind pushed at her jacket as she began unstringing the Christmas lights that her mother had hung two months prior at the beginning of December. For a moment her eyes flicked up at the sky, a relief flooding her heart at the blueness of the sky. Another day without a rainstorm.
The deceptive sun offered no warmth as she descended the ladder back to the frozen ground beneath her feet. She shimmied the ladder over a few feet and climbed back upward. While she hated the process of removing Christmas lights it was a welcome distraction to tomorrow's task: driving to New York. Her in-person audition for Julliard was on Monday so she was driving alone to New York Sunday, then auditioning Monday and coming back Tuesday. Luckily her winter break had coincided with the audition process for the school. Her composition was finalized and she could play it without even looking down at her piano. The music flowed as easily as water from the page to her fingers to the keys after months of honing her skill.
She had decided not to tell Katniss about her college choice until she got in. There was no need to put an unnecessary rift in between them if Johanna didn't get into the school. Their relationship had finally emerged from the rough seas of the past few months relatively unscathed. Their conversations moved naturally, their physical intimacy back to normal, the ease of their bond clicking back into place. Things were good. Things were amazing. No need to trudge it through the mud. She hopped off the ladder and folded it up. After putting it away in the garage she emerged into her kitchen and smiled at her mother.
To give it back to you, to try to see it through.
"I can't believe you're going to the Big Apple tomorrow!" Johanna was temporarily stunned to see her mother standing near the oven, tears streaming down her face. Johanna couldn't recall ever seeing her mother cry. Either she never did, or she (like Johanna herself) hid her tears so no one could see them. But there she was in her usual attire of a flannel shirt and dusty jeans, a simple gold chain around her neck with a tiny cross tucked in between her breasts. "I can't believe you're going to college."
Johanna sometimes felt like the Earth, spinning around in infinite space. Her only concern was her proximity to Katniss, the sun from which all warmth and life seemed to originate. She often forgot about the other buzzing stars and planets whizzing around her solar system. All her thoughts had funneled toward how Katniss would react if she got selected to go to school, but wherever she went she'd be leaving her mother behind. This big empty house that she would only occupy in winters and summers, or a long weekend here or there. This life they built together with not a lot of money but a lot of love, she'd be putting it all behind her.
"Mama," Johanna said with a small smile on her features. The name sounded so distant yet oddly familiar, like visiting a grandparent's house. Her mother wrapped her in a hug, holding on tightly to her form. Her mother smelled of sawdust and hibiscus, but mostly she just smelled like home. Johanna buried her face in her mother's shoulder.
"I'm so proud of you, baby girl," Polly said, rubbing her daughter's spine up and down. They rarely had moments like this, of physical closeness. When Johanna was little she would always run home from school and jump into her arms, all lanky legs and wild black hair. Polly would attempt to toe the line between being Johanna's mother and being her friend, as well as being her father and being her confidant. She was all things to her, as Johanna was her entire life. Every moment of work, every conversation, every day spent at the dinner table trying to gently guide her daughter toward success. The cost? Seeing her only child drive away into the horizon and hoping she'd return soon.
My wish is in the well, my heart began to swell.
Her words held more weight than just the pride of seeing her daughter graduate and attend a prestigious unversity; it was also seeing how Johanna had picked up the pieces and put herself back together. All her life Polly had taught her how to fix things - cars, homes, toys - but she hadn't realize those lessons had transcended the tangible. Johanna could fix herself, she could fix hearts. Through the same perseverance that had allowed a twelve-year-old Johanna to fix a broken mountain bike Johanna had gotten herself back together.
The one lesson she hoped Johanna carried in her heart was that anything was possible through determination. A widowed mother could keep her only troubled daughter in school, turn a failing storefront into a thriving small business. While sometimes Johanna was just out of her reach, she saw enough of herself in Johanna's eyes to know that her daughter would always have a part of her.
"Thanks Mom." Johanna pulled back and used the pads of her thumbs to wipe away her mother's tears. In her eyes she saw herself in twenty years, happy and proud. Johanna could only wish to have some of the happiness her mother radiated to everyone she touched. Though she had no one to share that happiness with other than Johanna herself. Johanna wanted badly to give a life of ease back to her mother. She knew the store made her happy, but the constant contract work was taxing on her. Putting herself at the whim of scumbag people like Mr. Diamant and his terrible progeny.
More than anything, Johanna wanted her success to allow her mother to take time off and see the world. Her bedroom held pictures of exotic locations Polly had never been, places she must have seen in her dreams. Johanna wanted to bring those places to her.
My breath became so slow, and the world began to grow.
"Look at me, a damn mess," Polly joked, wiping her own tears and disengaging herself from her daughter. A few childhood photos of Johanna were scattered on the table and Johanna's eyes went to them. She lightly fingered one of the polaroids. It was a photo of herself and her father on the hood of what would be her car. Johanna smiled mildly at the photo. She remembered that day. Her parents had argued hard in the morning about how he should have sold the car to help pay their bills, but he refused. Instead he handed Polly the Polaroid camera and insisted she take a picture.
Her father was an incendiary man with big dreams and small ability. "He would've been proud of you too, you know," Polly reminded. Despite how tumultuous her marriage was, she knew Johanna held some rose-colored memories of her father. In spite of his egregious flaws, he really did love Johanna. She was probably the only thing he did truly love. "He insisted we keep that car for you. He told me over and over how it was the only thing he was going to leave you with."
Johanna chuckled and slapped the photo against her other hand. "What a legacy. It was you and me that got that clunker working." Johanna tried to refrain from getting poetic about her father again. Her birthday was bad enough, but the memory of sitting on his lap in the garage as he uselessly tried to turn the engine over was one of the more permanent memories of him she had. The warmth of his lap, the bristle of his five o'clock shadow on her head, the faint smell of whiskey and cigarettes on his breath.
Polly smirked and nodded. "True, but that's because he was a dreamer. Not as practical as you and me. But you did inherit his big vision. Fortunately you also got my know-how. Lord knows where you got all that talent from. Although your great-grandmother Bernice was a very skilled violinist." Johanna blinked in surprise. Her mother had never spoken about any great grandmothers before. Polly sat at the kitchen table and placed her palms around her mug of hot cocoa. "She was your paternal great grandmother. She got married, popped out your granddaddy, then got divorced and never saw anyone in the family again."
Johanna sat down across from her mother, still playing with the near sepia-toned photo of herself and her father. "Why?"
Polly shrugged and took a sip of her beverage. "Nobody knows. My guess is she wanted to travel the world and play her violin. She didn't want to be a housewife or somebody's vessel for children."
"Weirdly progressive for the early 20th century," Johanna remarked with a raised eyebrow.
"We Mason women can be a stubborn lot." Johanna smiled at this statement and nodded. A year or so after her father died her mother had both their names legally changed back to Mason. It was a strong family name that was rooted deeply in Panem like the great oak trees that stood in their backyard. Polly hadn't wanted to lose hers anyway but her husband had insisted.
"Good thing we're also hot." Polly laughed and raised her mug in a gesture of cheers and drank to her daughter. She watched Johanna play with the photo, which still had her father's handwriting with the date and the words "Jo's Future Wheels" scribbled haphazardly on the white tab at the bottom. She reached across the table and took Johanna's free hand with her own. Johanna looked up at her and smiled. "Keep the photo."
Love has no limit let's spend it slow forever.
Katniss laced her fingers with Johanna's, her hips pressing Johanna's butt against the driver's side of her car. The engine rumbled behind them, a reminder that Johanna's presence was fleeting. She had bid her mother a tearful goodbye, and now here was Katniss, gray eyes glossy with unshed tears. Her mother had refused to let her take the trip with Johanna since they were supposed to go with the Hawthornes up to a nearby cabin for a short vacation.
"It's okay, pretty girl," Johanna soothed, kissing Katniss's forehead. "I won't be gone long. Just a few days." Johanna had told Katniss that she had an eccentric aunt on her father's side who wanted to see her, so she had made herself available during the break.
Katniss unlaced their fingers and moved her hands slowly up the sides of Johanna's arms. Her wrists settled around the base of Johanna's neck as she pulled her in for another kiss. This was probably the hundredth time she had done it but she couldn't get enough. She had to fill her reserve to call upon the memory of Johanna's lips while they were apart. "Please be safe."
"Always. I always come back to you, don't I?" Johanna asked against Katniss's lips, brown eyes searching the murky depths of the gray ones imploring her.
Katniss smiled. "Can't break tradition." She kissed her once more soundly on her lips and took a forced step away. "Okay, leave before I kiss you again and you run out of daylight." Johanna nodded in wordless agreement and opened her door, settling herself inside the warm interior of her car. Katniss watched as she put on her seat belt and gunned the engine, taking off down the street in a soft plume of smoke.
Johanna turned up the volume on her radio. As deeply as she was going to miss Katniss, she was looking forward to this time. Music, the road, a small flask of whiskey she had smuggled unbeknownst to her mother, a few provisions for the trip, and her thoughts. Panem began disappearing in her rearview mirror as she roared down the interstate highway and made toward the east coast.
You know I ain't the type to walk around in matchin' shirts.
The drive was going to be a little long, just over nine hours if Johanna didn't hit any traffic. She had never been this far outside of Panem before, never mind this close to New York. It was a city she dreamed of, spurred on by film noir flicks with men in fedoras, and the quaint whimsical vibe of the show Friends. Somewhere between the gritty city streets and the clean cut coffee shops Johanna felt her destiny was nestled.
Johanna knew nothing about the city other than what she consumed from music, television and films. But she knew, as certain as she knew her name and the notes on her papers, that she would end up there. She would be another face in the bustling streets, illuminated by neon signs and cornfield-color street lamps. Her dreams would not be dashed on to the street and swept up every other Thursday. Johanna knew she held inside her the same thing her mother had said: her father's vision and her mother's ability. Every molecule in her DNA was stacked toward being successful. She was an unbroken chain of reproductive success and no one, not even fucking Cashmere and her hateful words and painful touch, was going to rob her of that.
If relationship is effort I will match your work.
Her eyes gazed on the large cornfields whizzing by her driver's side window, creating a stream of yellow and green that seemed to touch the horizon in every direction. The sun was beginning to settle down for the night, lightning the sky with pale Easter pastels of pink and blue and yellow. Johanna preferred sunrise to sunset, but there was no denying the spectacular death of the sun that cold winter night. The moon was already high up, gleaming down at the dwindling daylight, awaiting its chance to shine.
Johanna focused back on to the long stretch of road and took a small pull from her flask. Her confidence in her ability to pass the entrance exam to Julliard was settled inside her. The only variable was how to tell Katniss. As far as she knew Katniss had applied a few places but was still waiting to hear back. Like always, talk of their future never ventured anywhere. It was like turning down a dead end road every time they tried. Katniss would tense up and change the subject, or they'd just stop talking all together. They'd leave the question mark of their future hanging above their heads, buzzing around like an incessant house fly.
I wanna be the one to make you happiest.
If they settled in different parts of the country, that wouldn't be too bad, would it? It's the 21st century, a lot of people conducted cross-country or even trans-continental romances. There was Skype and FaceTime and e-mails and instant messaging. There was every way to stay in touch with someone you couldn't touch. They would soldier through their four years and hopefully at the end of those times, weave back together with the natural magnetism they seemed to have. Certainly nothing as pitiful as distance would keep them apart for long. They'd just fold the map and be together.
There are times when you'll need someone. Oh darling, I'll be by your side.
The skyline of the city was brightly lit in the dark blanket of night. Johanna disappeared into the green-tinged tunnel that connected the neighboring state beneath the wide Hudson River, emerging into the trafficked, red-and-white lit roads of New York City. Her GPS' voice blared from her phone, telling her where she was to go next. Johanna was glad for its company because her eyes were fixed on the tall skyscrapers that were ubiquitous up and down every block. People with ear buds in their ears skittering across the street on yellow lights, chattering loudly as they waved down the mustard yellow cabs.
Johanna made her way to the hotel she had booked for the few days, just a block away from Central Park. She eyed the valet warily as he took the keys to her car, not entirely trusting the spiffily-dressed young man to handle her baby with care. She watched him drive off until the bellhop escorted her into the large hotel. It was a far cry from Bogie's club. The thin red carpet was a polished beige marble that opened up on to a gradiose staircase that looked like something kings and queens would descend into a ball. The bellhop disappeared with her luggage (which consisted of just one duffel bag and one small suitcase) and she checked in with the smiling woman behind the counter.
It ached in Johanna's heart not to be able to share this incredible vision with Katniss. She turned and used her phone to snap a few photos, committing to sending them to her once she was settled in her new room. She got her swipe key - an ostentatious gold thing that looked like an American Express card - and ascended the glass elevator up toward the 12th floor.
Her luggage was sat outside her room and Johanna lifted it up as she fumbled with the gold card. Each swipe against the door made a loud beep and a small red light blinked at her in defiance. Johanna dropped her things and focused more heartily on swiping the card.
Swearing under her breath she uselessly tried the locked door handle. She ran her fingers through her hair and rummaged in her pockets for her phone, resigning herself to calling the woman downstairs to send someone up to fix it.
"You have the card facing the wrong way." Johanna whipped her head in the direction of the voice. The black-haired girl smiled politely at Johanna and motioned toward the card in her hand. "I had the same problem when I got here yesterday." She took a step toward Johanna, her skirt ruffling in the movement. "It seems logical that the arrow indicate the direction of the swipe, but it's actually just there to tell you which side to swipe. Try it again, but backwards."
Johanna complied with her directions and the green light illuminated and Johanna was able to push the door handle down and open the door. She smiled at the girl. "Thanks. I would've been sleeping out here in the hallway." Johanna put her duffel bag over her shoulder and grasped her wheeled suitcase in her hand. She stood awkwardly in the doorway as the other girl stared at her. Her eyes were so deeply brown they were almost as black as her hair. Her skin was a deep caramel with no marring that Johanna could see. They looked to be about the same age but Johanna couldn't be sure. Her voice had a small accent to it, making her words very distinct and deliberate. Johanna shifted her suitcase to her other hand and offered her hand to her. "Johanna."
The girl smiled and took her hand, shaking it firmly. "Jasmine."
Johanna raised her eyebrow. "Like the princess?"
The girl placed her hands on her hips and cocked one side out. A dark eyebrow raised nearly to her hairline. "You know, that could possibly be construed as offensive. Asking a Middle-Eastern girl if she was named after a stereotype from a horribly racist Disney movie."
Johanna smirked and chuckled. "I suppose so. I don't know any other Jasmines to use as a point of reference. Would you rather I had said, 'like the rice?'" Johanna asked, barely stifling her laughter.
The girl's black eyes twinkled and she shrugged her shoulders. Her white blouse was hanging off both her shoulders, hugging the tops of her arms. "You could have said 'nice to meet you,' but I guess princess is better than rice." She eyed Johanna's luggage. "Are you traveling alone?"
Johanna tossed her duffel bag into her room, placing her suitcase in the doorway to keep the door ajar. She nodded. "Yep. I'm only here for a night or two."
"Likewise," the girl replied, flicking her own gold room swipe key in her hands.
"And what are you here for, Princess?" Johanna asked, a playful smile on her lips.
Jasmine laughed and shook her head. "I am going to pretend that nickname isn't borderline offensive and still not answer that question." Johanna looked over at her in blatant surprise. "Like I'm going to tell some young drifter in a leather jacket who is here alone why I'm here?" The girl scoffed, her lips still set in a smirk. "You Americans are very trusting."
"Do I seem dangerous to you, Princess?" Johanna gasped in feigned surprise. "Wait, am I the street urchin in my 'offensive' scenario? Suspiciously white and disarmingly charming?"
Jasmine laughed again and started toward the elevators. "You know I've never actually seen that film? If the street urchin is as charming as you've been, I'm surprised he ends up with the princess."
Johanna pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side. "Is that so? Well that's because he shows her the world." Jasmine shot her a disingenuous look and Johanna shrugged. "To be honest they don't quite hit it off so well."
The elevator rang and Jasmine stepped inside, pressing one of the buttons. "Well then maybe we do have something in common." Her teasing smirk disappeared behind the closing doors and Johanna shook her head. Only a few hours into arriving in New York City and she had already had a bizarre conversation. She hurried into her room, excited to recant her tale to Katniss over the phone.
Katniss sat along the rocks on the side of the lake. The early morning time was her favorite. The sun was barely peeking over the line of trees that surrounded the lake, leaving the place with an eerie blueish glow. Fish swam happily, uninhibited by boats or predatory fishermen. Birds skimmed across the water in flight, eager to grasp any of the brave fish that dared come up to the surface for more oxygen.
No snow had fallen there in a while but there was still a soft, spotty blanket of white across the tops of the trees. Katniss shuddered in her jacket, rubbing her arms in an effort to generate more heat. Only one moon had risen since the last time she saw Johanna but she couldn't help but feel like she was missing something. The way Johanna had left made her suspicious, though it was very unlike Johanna to lie.
The hard pound of footsteps behind her made Katniss turn her head. Gale walked with lighter feet. The smiling face of Peeta came through the woods, somewhat clumsily traversing the rocky and snowy wet leaves toward Katniss.
"Hey. I thought I'd be the only one awake." The blond boy sat on the rock next to her. He took a sip of what smelled like coffee from a silver bullet thermos. In his free hand was a small pastry with a light dusting of confectioner's sugar. "Want some?" he asked, offering both drink and snack.
"No, thanks." Katniss returned his smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I didn't know you and your brothers were coming up here."
Peeta shrugged and took another bite of the pastry, watching as the white powder floated on to his beige sweater. "Yeah it's pretty much the only vacation we get. I used to love coming up here when we were kids. I loved watching the sunrise. Especially since my brothers would be asleep and it's about the only peace I'd get all week."
Katniss chuckled and nodded her head in agreement. "Between Prim and Posy I'll be lucky to get two seconds of rest." She looked back out across the lake and breathed out a sigh, observing her breath rising in the air and dissipating. "I miss Johanna."
Peeta smiled and finished his pastry, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I'm sure she misses you too. Where did she go anyway? It's weird seeing you without her."
The statement was innocuous enough but it gave Katniss pause. Were they really always that entwined? "New York," Katniss answered. "Apparently visiting an eccentric aunt."
Peeta protruded his lip in thought. "That's cool I guess. My brother Ross was supposed to come but it's the week kids are visiting his university so he had to be a tour guide. He's the only one of my brothers I like. I miss him." He looked at Katniss. "Not that it's the same," he grinned.
Katniss laughed and shook her head, adjusting her wool cap over her hair. "Certainly not."
Her expression slowly fell into wistful as her eyes moved back on to the placid lake. As much as she missed Johanna, she was suddenly consumed with the thought that she wasn't much herself anymore. Her mother spent a lot of time telling her not to get so invested in Jo but she couldn't help it. Was it too much too soon? She was considering turning down the only dream she had ever shared with her father just to be around her.
"Is everything okay?" Peeta asked softly, placing his elbows on his knees and looking over at Katniss.
She gave him a small smile and nodded her head. "Yeah just thinking."
"What about? I'm a good listener you know."
Karniss chuckled. "Everyond thinks they're a good listener. Just like everyone thinks they're good in bed and a good cook."
Peeta's pale face flushed with embarrassment. It made him smile, though, because it was something Johanna would've said. He had realized very quickly that his chances with Katniss were non existent the second the two of them walked into school together. Like Finnick and Annie they seemed like an inevitability. Instead he settled for her friendship, which was nearly as good. "Well I am a good cook."
Katniss heaved a sigh, and while she enjoyed winter, she suddenly wished it was warmer. "It's just... I got accepted to Stanford on early action in December."
"That's great!" he remarked, patting Katniss on the shoulder. "Congratulations."
"Thanks." The miserable way Katniss replied made him raise a pale eyebrow in her direction. "I haven't told Jo. I don't want to lose her and I'm afraid if she knows we'll be going to different schools things will be weird."
Peeta nodded in understanding. He dug his sneaker into the frozen ground, thinking upon the issue. "Long distance relationships take effort but they aren't impossible. I'm sure wherever you both end up you'll stay together. I mean I know we're just teenagers but it happens." He nudged her with his elbow. "If it's meant to be, it will be. If not, at least you don't have any regrets."
Wouldn't she though? The thought if someone else being on the receiving end of Johanna's love made her stomach turn. She wanted to be the one to love her and make her eyes glisten. She wanted to be the one to ride out the storm clouds in her life and soothe her.
But for that to happen, she had to be honest. If this truly was her only love surely they would survive a few years of distance.
I've got this old guitar, the strings are rusty but it's all I need.
Johanna had no problem playing in front of a crowd. Bogie's was usually packed on her night and with a little help from Mr. Jack Daniels she had no issue overcoming the small amount of stage fright that accompanied playing publicly. Her audtion had been in front of only five people, all of whom held the power to raise or crush her dreams. Never had so much of her future been invested in so few, other than meeting Katniss.
Her piece went well and she received a moderate amount of applause. She had even garnered a dirty look from a boy off stage so she knew she had nailed it. After thanking the council of people in the audience she left the stage and went into the hallways.
"So the leather clad drifter is a pianist?" Johanna turned on her heel, her painful, four inch heels that were punishing her feet. She met face to face with the girl from the hotel, who was dressed in a midnight blue leotard, her makeup done professionally and her hair pulled back in a tight bun spotted with diamonds.
"The princess is a ballerina?" Johanna shot back, cocking an eyebrow.
She laughed and nodded her head in affirmation. "Have you met the competition?" Johanna shook her head. "Would you like to? One of the spoiled brats has a penthouse in our hotel."
"The street rat mingling with the royal court?" Johanna grinned and shuffled her weight on her feet. Jasmine smirked at her and rolled her deep brown eyes.
"Nobody who composes the beautiful piece you did and plays it that well is a street rat. No matter how much leather you were wearing." Johanna blushed and ran her fingers through her hair nervously. "C'mon it'll be fun. The kids who aren't here on mommy and daddy's money are actually decent. They all talked shit when you got up there and then when you played, you shut them up."
Johanna tried not to be offended by that. Simply because she came from humble beginnings and didn't already have private school connections that made her unworthy? "Do you need an escort Princess?"
Let's gather 'round and sing a song.
Jasmine dimpled her cheek in a half smile and began taking her hair out of the constricting bun it was in. Her jeweled fingers tousled her loose strands of hair. "I might be a princess, but I certainly am not some damsel. I'll see you tonight. 20th floor, room 213." Johanna was left no time to object to her assumption as Jasmine made her way down the empty hallway toward the door. She decided to like that girl. She began hoping perhaps both of them would be admitted.
And when the night is done, these chains will hold us strong.
The party was well underway by the time Johanna had gotten there. Based off Jasmine's observation of how Johanna was being perceived, she decided to look the part. Her typical flannel shirt was unbuttoned just below her cleavage, leaving her lace black bra partially exposed, half of it tucked into her skintight black jeans. Her fingers were bejeweled in silver rings, her makeup dark and imposing.
They wanted a rebel? She'd give them a rebel. A friendly girl handed her a red solo cup with an unidentifiable coppery liquid that smelled like straight diesel fluid. She drank it anyway. Jasmine had been right. People approached her like she was an animal at the zoo, prodding her and asking her questions.
Toward the end of the night she was completely plastered and in the middle of a heated debate about composers Clara Schumann versus her husband Robert. That conversation came after her in depth talk about the cultural contribution of Jim Morrison on American music in the eighties, after his death. It was one of the only times, other than her conversations with Cressida, that she felt understood and intellectually stimulated. With Jasmine's legs draped over her own they continued their heated debate deep into the night.
The chords will carry on, long after we're done.
At one point kids went back to their rooms and retrieved instruments, gathering together in different parts of the room and coming together to play everything fom Haydn to Haim. She loved every minute of it. In spite of the differences between them all socio-economically, music brought each of them together. Johanna made the decision that night to dip into her savings and stay a few more nights. Years of being outcasted and now she finally felt at home with these people, nestled in their shared love of music.
There's no worries on the earth tonight. We're all walkin' off the world tonight.
Author's Note: Sorry this is so much filler but this sets up the rest of the action for the next two chapters. Thanks for the new followers and reviews!
You know what my favorite fucking thing is? The fact that you guys like the music I put in here AND you're messaging with me with music YOU like and exposing me to more music. Like I literally am drowning in music and it's quite possibly the best thing ever. Keep 'em coming!
Music: "Within the Rose" by Matthew and the Atlas (artist suggested by elliott13), "The Light" by Common, "Gang of Rhythm" by Walk off the Earth.