AN: A PiP Day 3 Challenge - Prompt Response to the Visual: Fair. Kinda sorta Carnivale themed but not really.


Stupid Gale, I think, pulling the pale stained dress further down my thighs though really not doing much at all to preserve any sense of my modesty. I was getting real sick of his shit. I wouldn't even be here had I not needed the cash for food this month. Mama was still sick and Prim was looking thin again and that just wouldn't do. If he'd just let me work the bottle booth like I did every other night, we'd be okay. But no.

"Not tonight, Catnip. We're short in the tents and we need a woman in there," he explained as I tagged along behind him.

"But Gale, you don't want me in there. I ain't got the curves or the 'look'. You know it and I know it and you're just being a fool!" I argued to his back. We were moving quickly through the ramshackle cluster of tents that we'd pegged down not two days ago. We only had three more days in this town before we tore it all down and loaded up the buggy's again before heading further south.

My family had been travelling the Dust Bowl with this carnival since I could remember. Papa used to muscle for the group, bringing us along even though the carnival ain't no place for little girls. Mama refused to stay home and raise us on her lonesome and so travelling we were. It was always exciting, seeing the bulbs flicker up in some new town every week. Prim and I would run the lines and help with the wash while Mama worked tickets.

At least until Papa died with a few other men. The accident had been quick – a dust storm had kicked up out of the west and taken one of the main mast tents down – Papa and a few others including Mr Hawthorne had been struck by a pole while trying to salvage it.

I hadn't cried. I didn't have it in me to cry. Too much dry dust to suck up the water from me. Papa was gone and ain't nothing I could do about it and that's just how it was. At least we still had Mama.

That kind of thinking was fool of me though. When Papa died I was so young, Prim was knee high to a grasshopper and barely able to understand where he'd went. Mama didn't want to do nothing after that. She stopped eating, stopped sleeping – hell, if it weren't for the Hawthornes Prim and I would have disappeared right along with Papa 'cause Mama hadn't paid us any attention.

No, the Hawthornes helped us get by. Mabel Hawthorne argued for us to stick with the group, pleading for an agreement by all that we couldn't just be left out without a man to support us. They let us stick around, only with the agreement that we'd start real work as soon as we were able.

For me that meant picking up any jobs they assigned me. Prim was tasked with caring for the animals and Mama... Well, Mama stayed in our cart.

The first few years were hard. We had to make our own way, struggling to pay into the communal food and putting in the effort to be worth the gas. I thought for sure they was going to leave us behind when I picked up a cough during a cold spell and couldn't pull all our weight. Thankfully the Hawthornes were there to help and took Prim in while I rested. It was a close call, but we got by.

It steadily began to get better, though money was still impossible and paying into the group was still difficult. I started to grow into more jobs, getting better with fixing engines and helping run the games every night. Just last year I moved up to running my own booth and that's where the money gets better because you get to keep half of what you take.

But from what Gale Hawthorne was telling me now that he helped run everything, they were moving me off the booth and into the tents and that was no place I wanted to be.

The tents were our most seedy attractions by any standards. Some housed our oddities, including people like Lola our Bearded Lady, while others drew the gaze of men who huddled into the tents to throw leering looks at the barely clothed women. Sometimes there weren't no clothes at all. Mama had always told me to steer clear of the tents unless I wanted a good whipping when I got back. But she wasn't paying any attention anymore.

"Catnip, you know I ain't got no choice. Bristel is sick and we're already short now that Maggie went and got herself knocked up. I know you don't want to, but orders from the top say you gotta, alright?" Gale replied, turning to me abruptly and frowning sadly at me. I knew that look. It was the one he doled out when he gave pity in heaping portions.

He knew I didn't belong in there, but now that I was eighteen we had no reason to deny Snow, the ringleader, any longer.

"Is Mabel around so I can get something to wear?" I conceded, not able to meet his eyes knowing that I was going to the tents tonight to sell more that a ring toss.

It's only after finding Mabel and pulling on the pale pink dress that I'm cursing Gale for not doing more to turn Snow off of assigning me to the tents. In all reality, he probably tried his best. You did that for best friends. It just still hadn't been enough and now as I stood in the thick dust cloud that swirled around my scuffed boots I was all disappointed that it wouldn't ever be enough. This was just the beginning and I wasn't fool enough to doubt it.

"Mabel said you got reassigned tonight." Jo, one of the other tent girls sneered as she stepped from behind the mess tent wall. Jo wasn't that bad – a little harsh around the edges and incredibly crude – but loyal too. Not only that but she held her ground and kept her mouth shut on secrets. You could see it in her blank eyes.

"Yeah. My Mama would kill me if – " I stopped and looked away angrily. If Mama wasn't so lost maybe I wouldn't have to be in the tents.

"Look Brainless," Jo started, stepping right up in front of me and grabbing a stray piece of hair that'd slipped from my braid. I smacked her hand away and stepped back from her. "If you wanna make a buck, come with me and I'll show you how. Otherwise, run now and don't let Snow catch you."

Pausing, I considered her words while I scuffed my boots in the dirt. We all knew the tents made money but I'd always been warned off them for as long as I could remember. Even Gale, though he frequented them a lot and more importantly frequented Jo a lot, told me I should never volunteer unless it was a demand. And now here I was, being demanded.

I came to that realization just as Jo was slipping back around the mess wall and disappearing.

"Jo!" I shouted quickly, bolting after her and all the way into her cart.

I spent the next two hours having my hair yanked free of all its tangles, my lips painted red and my dirty hands scrubbed clean. The whole time Jo explained how the tents worked, how men paid at the door and filtered in before the show started at seven, eight and nine sharp. Each girl then entered the tent and sashayed across the boards to their stool.

"And you gotta really swing your hips, Brainless, or you won't make the tips," she warned, showing a flick of her own hips. Once all three girls were seated then, she explained, the money started moving. Men could come up to the ticket man and pay for a kiss, an exposed limb, or a flash of some skin. The thought made my stomach roll and Jo only laughed at my discomfort.

"What if –" I choked on my words, my thick tongue getting the better of me. "What if they want – um, more?"

"Well, depends what they pay. Finn, who is in the tent tonight, is pretty good about making it fair. Never lets it get out of hand all the time I've been here. Plus, his girl Annie ain't big on showing too much herself which works for everyone." Jo explained easily, stepping back to admire her handiwork on my makeup. "Now you're ready for selling." She chirped and nodded her head. I could only lick my lips nervously, my palms sweating and my toe tapping. "Look, Kat, just play it sly. They won't come at you if you look like you did it all before, alright?"

Her words were meant to soothe me, I know, but I couldn't get the feeling of fake fingers sliding against my skin or grappling at my legs.

It was only a little while later after mess and before showtime that I stood outside the tent and clutched my arms around my chest. The breath was heaving in my lungs and I could tell my head was getting light.

"Sugar cube?" A man much taller than me with bronzed hair offered, sticking out his hand toward me. I shook my head nervously and bit my cheek instead. "First night?" I nodded and he sighed before bending towards me and gripping my shoulder tightly in his big palm. "I'm Finn. I'll take care, alright? Just keep it together and you can go on last."

My mouth wouldn't work anymore. My heart hammered heavily in my chest as soon Jo and Annie, the other girl assigned tonight, appeared out of nowhere in light spirits and fancy shift dresses. Comparing myself to them, I looked a right mess in my old faded dress and calf boots. Nobody was going to pay for any part of me and I'll have done this for nothing.

"Ready?" Finn asked, pulling his head from the tent wall and looking back towards us. Jo and Annie nodded swiftly while I remained standing apart from them. I watched then as Finn disappeared, Jo following soon after to a series of hoots and hollers from the men inside the tent.

"I'm going to be sick," I mumbled while the catcalls continued. Annie turned to me quickly, patting my head and smiling softly at me with her kind green eyes.

"It'll be over before you know it, okay? It gets easier," she whispered while inside the tent the tone changed and a record was played on the gramophone. When the music stopped, Annie turned from me and moved without hesitation into the wall of the tent, leaving me alone with my panicked thoughts.

I barely heard the record stop over the roaring in my ears and then it was my turn, my wobbly feet carrying me dazed and into the lights of the tent.


The lights, the sounds – everything was overwhelming here. I'd never been to a carnival before, not at least while Mother had any say. I was eighteen now though and that was exactly where I was going to go with Rye and Charles as soon as one came into town. I didn't have to wait too long – not two weeks after my birthday had one rolled in and setup shop just on the outskirts and far enough away from the church.

We'd all had to listen as Mother snarled her way through another dreary family dinner, her opinions of the carnival folk dripping with loathing despite her never having been to one in her life. Though Father tried to put an end to her rants, we all knew it was pointless. Instead we suffered through, nodding when appropriate and eating as fast as we could.

It was Saturday night when we ventured past the doors of the house and into the night. We were drawn like moths to the flame, our feet carrying us to the edge of town faster than we expected.

I couldn't stop staring at the different colours and scenes before me. Each one told a story, each face drawn with lines that I wanted to paint and understand. The place was teaming with excitement, with action, with the life that I so longed for in our sleepy little town.

"Peeta, let's go!" Rye shouted from where he stood ahead of me with Charles, his face plastered with a wide smile.

"Where are we going?" I gasped, jogging to catch up as my two brothers looped their arms around my shoulders and lead me forward.

"To get you a late birthday present, dear brother," Rye responded with a laugh. I tried to hide my hesitation, moving with them despite my heart rate picking up as they lead me down a darker laneway between tents.

As we walked further and further away from the lights, I couldn't keep ignoring the change in mood as the music from the grand show behind me slowly began to fade away. More clearly around us the tents shifted in the breeze and the sounds grew more quiet and controlled. Up ahead I could see slivers of light peeking from between different sheets of canvas while men stood smoking their pipes and rolled cigarettes around their edges.

My nerves began to fray as Rye moved me onward still, Charles dropping behind us a step or two to peek his head into passing tents. From the glances I took at the men we passed I began to understand where we were heading and without a doubt I knew it wasn't quite where I should be going.

"Um, Rye? Let's go back. I don't need to – " I started, beginning to drag my feet. I heard Charles laughing from behind me and I turned to face him head on.

"Peet, you won't regret this, promise," he assured and grabbed me up tightly by the collar. I couldn't say no to my brothers, they knew that. All I could do was follow along and try not to get involved with whatever they were scheming.

Coming upon a tent near the edge of the lane I watched as Rye exchanged money for tickets with the man at the entrance. Sticking my hands in my pocket I let Charles edge me into the tent and lead me down a middle aisle of benches that creaked when we sat. We weren't the first, nor were we the last, of men to pile into the stuffy canvas room.

My leg bounced as the crowd around us grew. Charles patted me on the back. Rye laughed excitedly and couldn't stop his eyes from scanning the room like a newborn babe.

"Welcome gentlemen!" A bronze haired man called out, bowing into the front of the tent extravagantly and moving towards a record player. "Today, my dear sons of god, we have some beautiful ladies just for you. Make note of the rules – no approaching without paying, no copping a feel you haven't bought, and remain seated until the play portion. Violating these rules or these ladies will get your balls knobbed off by the folks just outside. Now, for your viewing pleasure, please welcome to these here parts the lovely Johanna!"

I watched as a woman broke through the side of the tent and swivelled around the front. All around me men catcalled and shouted their excitement, all the while my neck burned with a hot flush of embarrassment. Rye was nearly bouncing next to me, his body thrumming while he shouted his approval.

When the next woman was introduced I nearly wanted to cover my eyes. She was beautiful but something about her seemed haunted and off. I wanted to give her a blanket and show her home safe.

But it was the last girl, so young like me, who made my cheeks burn red and my mouth dry out. Her long dark locks hung down her back and curled over her olive skin, her pink dress reaching her knees and showing a small bit of skin before her heavy boots took over her legs. I watched aptly as she stumbled in her routine, her grey eyes wide as she stared out at us.

All I wanted in that moment was to shelter her from this and what it must feel like to be ogled. The guilt creeped in then and I turned to Rye who grinned broadly at me.

"See anything you like?" He shouted as the music winded down. I shook my head but he only laughed, getting to his feet to join the line up of men who chose to pay an extra buck to further their experience with the girls.

I sat with Charles while Rye moved closer to the front, talking with the bronze haired man who frowned at him and shook his head. My eyes darted between my brother and the dark skinned girl who fidgeted nervously in her seat while she watched other men paw at the two other women. It made me nauseous to watch her knuckles go white as a man approached her.

"Peet!" Rye shouted from across the tent, tearing my gaze away just as the man blocked the girl from my view. Charles pulled me to my feet, effectively moving me forward towards where Rye was standing. "Since you seemed to like the last girl best, I got you a kiss!" He shouted eagerly and I soured. "He didn't want to sell it but I put down a pretty hefty amount so you –"

"You what?" I hissed, flicking my eyes towards where the girl sat on her stool looking at the ground as the previous man walked away.

"You get a kiss – only one, but that's a fair deal. Better than anything you got me!" Rye laughed and wrangled my neck with his arm as he pulled me towards the girl. Standing before her I found I couldn't even remember her name, too shell-shocked to get past the way this must feel and how uncomfortable she looked with her shoulders hunched forward and her hair hiding her face.

"Buck up, Peet," Charles spoke calmly beside me, lightly pushing my shoulder and forcing me forward. The girl looked up at me from between her lashes, her cheeks wet with tears from whatever the previous man had done. I was torn – spellbound by her but so angry at what was happening that I wanted to steal her away from here.

"Are you alright?" I whispered to her, my hands balled at my sides in barely contained anger. She nodded meekly before looking towards the bronze haired man. Catching the look shared, I watched as she turned back towards me and sat up. "I'm sorry you have to do this –" I started and she shook her head quickly.

"Don't. Just, do whatever you paid for," she hissed, staring me down.

I wanted to shake my head. To step back and leave her be. Or to carry her out of here to somewhere safe. She was beautiful. She didn't deserve this life.

"I won't get paid if you don't," she whimpered under her breath and a sound escaped my throat, one I'd never heard before but very much like the sound of being kicked in the gut. I looked at her then, her gaze meeting mine as I stepped forward and brushed my thumb along her cheekbone to remove the wet tears there.

"I won't ever hurt you," I murmured before pressing my lips to hers softly. It was chaste but still I tasted her lips and felt the burn of her skin against mine as her fingers wrapped around my wrist. Somewhere in the back of my mind a switch went off and I felt my heart rate pick up as I pulled away. We stared at one another for a second longer before Rye pulled me back with a whoop of a call.

"Little brother and his first kiss!" He shouted loudly and slapped my back affectionately. I still couldn't look away from her, nor could she look away from me it seemed. My blood thrummed and I nodded towards her, hoping she understood what I was feeling as it poured over me.

The moment was broken when I was steered out of the tent, our shared gaze finally severed as I was pulled from the tent by my brothers and lead towards the rest of the grounds. I couldn't focus on the rides or the games for the rest of the evening.

Not even after I returned the next night and paid for the show once again. I came alone this time, unhindered by my brothers. When she came out on stage for the later show that night I learned her name was Katniss – a foreign sounding name for a girl of such beauty. I watched as the men pawed her shoulder or shifted her dress higher up her thigh, all the while clenching my fists in my lap and holding myself down from pulling them away with my fury.

When I was the only man left in the tent she met my eyes and frowned, her gaze shifting between me and the bronze haired man before she was lead from the tent.

The next night I returned, paying my way into the tent and watching as Jo and Annie once again pranced into the room. But the next girl wasn't Katniss again. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable being here and not having a purpose. I could explain the night before as having come wanting to protect her but tonight I was simply another leering man.

I didn't stay for the end of the show, slipping out the back of the tent as the last song played me down the dusty lane and back towards the sounds that had captivated me on the first night. My mind stirred with thoughts of where she was, with what had happened to her after last night. I couldn't escape them, not even as I rounded the bend and entered into the games area.

"Hey!" The shout startled me, drawing me up short. Looking around, my eyes scanned the faces of the crowd around me, recognizing almost everyone but not the voice that called me. At least not until I felt the hand on my arm turning me around to face her.

"Katniss?" I shouted over the noise, remembering her name as she stared blankly up at me. She looked surprised to be standing before me, as though she'd gotten here without thinking it through.

"I uh – I..." She stumbled over her words, looking away and shifting on her feet. When she finally remembered her hand on my arm she dropped it quickly as though burned. I missed her touch.

"I thought you worked in – " I started instead, trying to help her out. She shook her head quickly and looked at her shoes.

"No – I, no. I run a booth. But I wanna say thanks for not bein' an ass," she said quietly, the accent in her voice drawing me in.

"I'm sorry my brother paid for that," I respond lamely and shift on my feet, uncomfortable still with having done what I did.

"It's uh – " She paused in her sentence and finally looked up at me again, her head tilting to the side as a shy smile lit across her lips. "You can do it again, if you wanna."

I don't go home that night. In fact, I don't go home ever again. When the carnival wraps up and moves out, I move out with it. I earn my keep day to day working as a labourer and muscle on every stop. Some days I take over cooking duty, some days they let me sell my drawings or paintings when we set up shop.

Katniss and I fall together easily. It isn't rushed – not in the least. I come to find a home with her and her sister, and eventually her stagnant mother as well. They take me in without question and allow me to tag along as they move on the circuit. For a long while our kisses remain simple, our lips exploring as we every day learn more about each other. When we grow together in all ways, exploring the country and its people and also each other, I know that I was meant to find this carnival and it was meant to find me.