Chapter 6

Week 1

The next day was his day off, and Peeta chalked it up to fate. There was literally nothing on his list of things to do that day. If he'd truly hit rock bottom, then the only place he could go was up. And that was where he planned to go. He was out of excuses and ways to avoid it.

Today was the day.

He rose early – that wasn't really motivation, it was really just being used to baker's hours – and quickly showered and shaved. He paused in front of the full length mirror in his bathroom and surveyed his body in the morning light. Poking at his thick side, he pinched at the fat roll that was there and then dug his fingers into to flab to poke what he could only hope was muscle. Grimacing, he did his best to shake off his loathing and nervousness and dug out his most-forgiving black t-shirt. It hugged his arms and did a decent job of camouflaging his round middle. Pairing it with a pair of gray sweats, he pulled out his worn sneakers and pulled them on. Surprised they don't have dust on them, he lamented to himself.

Dressing himself was suddenly the most difficult thing he'd ever done.

Checking his coat for his wallet, keys and phone, he loaded himself into his car and opened Google Maps to type 'gyms'.

A few popped up – Panem wasn't a huge town, but it was big enough to offer him several options. He read a few reviews, but people started talking about this trainer or that, the meal plans involved, the equipment, the this and that….soon his head was spinning. This was going to be harder than he could have ever imagined.

Just put the car into drive, he chided himself. Just go. Do it.

Heaving another sigh, he picked one that said 'Panem Fitness' and started driving before he could procrastinate even more. He stalled another few minutes in the parking lot before sucking it up and finally walking inside.

A wide, open reception area greeted him. The girl behind the counter looked up, quickly slapping a smile that was a little too wide on her face.

"Welcome to Panem Fitness!" she trilled.

He learned her name was actually Cashmere and that her voice only got higher the more excited she got. Why she was so excited talking to him about gym memberships he didn't know, but he supposed Cashmere wouldn't get excited about the bakery's new mixer the way he would. To each their own, he thought as she rattled off the packages.

"I'll do…the six month," he heard himself say. Shit. It cost an arm and a leg, but he would get a personal trainer, three visits with the dietician on staff, and access to every machine they offered. It was more money than he would have ever thought, but he paid it all –every last cent. No turning back now.

"Now we'll just need to measure you and take pictures…"

His head shot up from the release forms he was filling out. "Huh?"

"The before and afters? It's part of the program!" she exclaimed, flashing her too-white teeth. "We'll get your measurements and that way we can document your progress. If you aren't happy with your results or where you should be in the six months, we'll look at changing your program."

"Uh…" he hadn't expected this part. He felt himself get a little sweaty.

"Right this way!"

He shuffled his feet to a room off to the side, his heart pounding in his chest. This would be mortifying. He was so focused on what was about to happen that he nearly collided with a man coming out of the office next door.

"Whoa!"

"Oh! I'm sorry Mr. Crane!" Cashmere exclaimed, throwing her manicured hands up as she pulled Peeta to the side. "I was just helping Mr. Mellark here! We're so sorry!"

She seemed a little panicked, Peeta noticed. The tall man he'd almost run into looked every bit the gym buff, and he no doubt worked there. His body was long and lithe and what parts of it Peeta could see were tan and corded with muscle. He wore expensive looking track pants and a shirt that clung to every inch of his torso, while his hair was slicked back and styled in a way Peeta didn't very much care for. His facial hair was shaved into an intricate pattern that had to have taken him an hour to do. Everything about him screamed money and power and self-control. Everything Peeta wasn't.

Douchebag, he thought while slapping on another smile. Deep down he knew berating the good looking, albeit strange looking man in front of him wouldn't help him one bit in this, but he couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry about that. Wasn't watching where I was going."

The man Cashmere had referred to as 'Mr. Crane' glanced at him, giving him a not-so-subtle once over. Peeta swore he saw his smile falter slightly before straightening out again.

"Mr. Mellark, was it? How happy we are to have you here at Panem Fitness. Has Cashmere given you a rundown of the services we provide?"

"She has," Peeta nodded.

"Mr. Mellark signed up for the six month package!" Cashmere interjected. "I was just about to do his measurements."

"The six month?! Is that so…" Another up and down glance of his body and Mr. Crane couldn't seem to control his skeptical glance. "My, that's…ambitious. But we're here to help you any way we can. In fact…" he touched his chin as if deep in thought, and his eyes lit up slightly.

Wow, Peeta thought, this guy just judged the shit out of me. I bet he thinks there's no way this fatty is going to make it here six months. Maybe he's right.

Peeta looked at his shoes. Crane's eyes were more than he could stomach at the moment; the piercing blue gaze felt like it was gnawing its way down to the very core of his insecurities. Did he pick the wrong gym? The place looked huge on the inside with booming, upbeat music and people coming in and out the front door. Maybe he should have picked somewhere smeller, somewhere with fewer clients…he'd hoped that he would blend in, lost in the crowd of everyone else.

In a way, he'd hoped the vast size of Panem Fitness would help him feel smaller.

So far, he felt like he was larger than ever and out on full display for the world to see and judge, and he'd only met two people. The familiar feeling of bitterness laced with despair settled in the pit of his stomach, where it remained like a ball of lead.

"I have just the trainer for you, Mr. Mellark. She's working today! I'll have Cashmere here run and fetch her. Cashmere, be a dear and pull Katniss from the back, will you? I have her cleaning yoga mats today."

Yuck, Peeta thought. I wouldn't want to be cleaning the sweat off of used up yoga mats. Poor girl. Wait…girl?!

Cashmere's smiled briefly faltered, but she nodded and scampered off to do as she was bade.

Mr. Crane stood and rattled off facts and figures about the gym as they waited for Cashmere to return. Peeta's mind was going too fast to even pay attention – what had he gotten himself into?! He nodded and put on his best polite 'smile and nod' façade while Crane spoke. He even took him around the corner where Peeta laid eyes on about a hundred complicated looking contraptions he had no idea how to work or vague idea what they were used for – the rooms were all lined with mirrors and weights of every shape and size and Peeta couldn't' decide what was scarier – not knowing where to start, or knowing he would be able to see his reflection in every corner of the room once he did start.

He was led down to a hallway of smaller rooms equipped with mats, weights, and all sorts of stretchy contraptions he had no words for.

"Ah! Jo is working today. This is a great example of the customer service and one on one help we can provide. She's one of our high motivators," Crane explained. Peeta glanced into the room and his eyes immediately widened. He saw a petite woman wearing what he figured must be the gym's uniform – a tight, stretchy, black looking workout top and equally tight shorts that were striped with maroon and grey, bent over, absolutely screaming into the face of a middle aged man. The door was closed, but Peeta could see through the glass window that her client was in decent shape. What really made him feel ill was the fact that the muscles in his arms and the lack of fat anywhere on his body didn't seem to be helping him in his current situation. Red faced, sweating, and looking like he might throw up, he dipped down into another pushup. Peeta was pretty sure what was coming out of her mouth as she crouched on the mat next to the struggling man weren't words of encouragement.

He was feeling so sick he thought he might just throw up and high tail it out of the gym. The door isn't far away…

"Mr. Mellark, I'd like you to meet one of our best personal trainers – Katniss. Katniss, Mr. Mellark has signed up for our six month challenge package," Crane explained, "And I want you to work with him to really figure out what his goals are. Really push!"

There's that tone again, Peeta thought. Like he's decided I'm not even worth it. We didn't even meet five minutes ago. Why is that people automatically write people who aren't beautiful off?

Peeta was almost so busy sulking he didn't notice the girl who had appear at Crane's side. He felt himself stop breathing and he really started to sweat.

His trainer, Katniss, was stunning.

Her eyes caught his and he swallow dryly. They were orbs of steely silver, uniquely offset by her slightly olive skin and dark mahogany hair. She had it twisted into an intricate side braid, but pieces of it had fallen out to shape her perfectly oval face. High cheekbones and full lips accented her already beautiful features and Peeta thought he might faint. This was the girl who was going to help him?

I might as well go home now. Yup. Just mumble something about having explosive diarrhea, run for the door, and never look back. Solid plan.

Mr. Crane stood around long enough to give Katniss a brief rundown of what he recommended for Peeta, but it was lost on him. The blood was pounding in his ears and he was certain he was a shade of ruddy pink that was just about the most unattractive thing ever. He found himself staring at the wall and the ceiling and anything but the people in front of him as they finalized what they would do for the day.

Peeta sighed in relief when Mr. Crane walked away, but realized now he would actually have to speak to the gorgeous vixen in front of him.

"Erm, hi," she greeted awkwardly, scratching her head. "Thank you for…uh..picking Panem Fitness…" she trailed off, shaking her head uneasily. "They make me say that…"

"…No, it's…fine," he chuckled. "Uh…I'm Peeta."

"Katniss. But my….boss probably told you that."

"Yeah, uh…."

There was a beat of awkward silence before she motioned to a little room off to the side. "We can weigh you and take measurements over here."

Katniss' day wasn't going much better.

Crane had made it clear to her that this was indeed her last shot at this. She was still within her 90 day orientation period and could easily be fired for next to no reason at all. She needed this job and she hated like hell that she did, but there was no getting around it when there was tuition to pay and food to buy. If Prim was going to stay in school she couldn't be worrying about the rent being due or where her next meal would be coming from. She had to buckle down and focus on this if she was actually going to help this poor guy.

And boy did he look like he needed it. Not that she was judging- people of all shapes and sizes came into the gym all day long. Even though she was in relatively good shape, she realized that working out wasn't easy and it certainly wasn't always fun. The effort it took her to drag herself to that place every day was monumental and she was being paid. How anyone could get motivated enough to actually do the opposite and pay to go there was beyond her capacity of reasoning.

He must really want to change, she thought.

Peeta was still reeling from the shock of having been assigned such a gorgeous woman for a trainer when she talked about weighing him. He was fairly certain if he could get over the humiliation of this experience he would be able to survive anything. Suddenly asking Glimmer on a date paled in comparison with the situation he now found himself in.

He followed, the blood rushing in his ears. She glanced back at him expectantly.

"What? Sorry, I…."

"I said 'It's okay'. You look really uh...nervous," she glanced over her shoulder, sneaking a look at him. And he did – eyes darting around, wiping his palms on his sweats, and doing his best to look pretty much anywhere but at her. If he only knew I was twice as nervous as he is, he would feel fine, she groaned to herself.

"Do I?" he asked, following her into the little room. There was a plain desk with a computer, a plain photo backdrop and camera, and….a scale.

He had to swallow back his nerves as he waited for her to sit down and fire up the computer. She didn't quite look like she knew what she was doing. After fumbling around for a few agonizing minutes, she finally got it turned on and loaded while he stood and looked anywhere but at her. He couldn't be sure who was more uncomfortable.

"You can get on. I'll um, try to get the…camera set up."

Peeta stepped one toe on the scale. His heart was in his throat and the blood was now roaring in his ears. If there wasn't an inch of him stained with scarlet from blushing so hard he would have been absolutely shocked.

Once he was on, he looked up slightly.

Katniss walked closer, and he tried to focus on the way her scent wafted gently towards him. Her fingers were clumsy as she moved the weights on the scale to get a proper reading.

"D-do I have to look?"

She looked up at him in surprise, then at the number on the scale. Did he think it was that bad? The tips of his ears were stained pink, the same color as he cheeks. He chewed his lip and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Erm, well don't you want to see your starting point?"

She wasn't sure what to even say at this point – it became apparent to her that this Peeta was mortified to be at a gym and embarrassed about his weight.

"Not really, I…." he glanced at the number anyway, his heart sinking slightly. He weighed at least fifteen pounds heavier than he thought he would have, had he been brave enough to actually own a scale. It was worse than he'd thought.

"You can step down. We're all done," she said softly, trying to move on from the awkward moment. Choosing to skip the pictures for now, she had him sit down beside the desk while she filled out some of his health information on the computer. After asking him some basic questions the he painstakingly answered, she pushed the keyboard away and faced him. Her own cheeks were burning slightly as she cracked the blinds to the little office so that he could see out into the gym a story below.

"You know, everyone out there is here only because they don't like something about themselves."

He glanced up at her in surprise. "What?"

She nodded her head in the direction of the people below who were working out; either lifting, running on treadmills, flexing and taking selfies in front of the rows of mirrors.

"Very few people come to this gym to just be healthy. Everyone down there wants to change something about their body that they don't like. I think everyone has something they'd like to change."

He snorted softly, "Even you?"

She looked at him with surprise, her silvery eyes bright. "I'm not perfect. I have things I don't….that annoy me, about myself."

"Sure, no, that's…." he mumbled, trailing off.

"You have nothing to be worried about. We don't even have to do anything too difficult today. Do you have um…anything you want to focus on?"

He shrugged, scratching his ear idly. "Just….getting more fit. I don't know…that much about fitness, well…obviously," he motioned to himself. "I did sports in high school so really all I know is weight lifting and running."

She nodded. "Let's just…see where the day takes us. We usually have seventy five minutes, is that okay?"

"Yes."

Peeta stared down at the gym floor below, his eyes trained on the mirrors. How terrifying would be to have to watch himself working out? To see his disgusting body moving and shaking and jiggling? In front of her? How was he going to do this? The prospect of it just got more and more mortifying as the minutes ticked agonizingly by. Once she finished with his paperwork, she bypassed the pictures.

"We can do that on day two. Let's just go down to the studio and get started, okay?"

Peeta could only nod as he followed her out of the tiny office and down the steps to the main floor. She wound past the large room with all the mirrors and selfie takers and instead took him into a little room that he could only guess was in the back of the building. High windows blocked any view from the alley, and the sunlight poured through them to illuminate the little room in bright sunlight. Mats lined one side, and while there were a few mirrors there they weren't the only focus of the room. The empty, pale orange walls perfectly accented the lightly colored bamboo floor. The room smelled faintly of oranges and sandalwood and unlike the rest of the gym.

"I teach yoga here a few times a week. I just like it better than all that annoying thumping music out there," she explained, going to a small speaker in the corner. After fiddling with an ipod, calming music soon filled the room.

"Grab a mat. We'll stretch first."

Peeta followed her instructions, rolling out a yoga mat onto the floor and watching for further instructions. Katniss gently walked him through a few basic stretches that were easy enough – he wasn't very limber, but it actually felt good to try to stretch out. She didn't push him – instead, she showed him what to do, watched patiently as he tried, and averted her eyes as they held the stretch for a ten count.

Not so bad, he thought.

He then jumped slightly as he felt her hand on his back, urging his spine forward as he attempted to touch his toes. He might have been able to had it not been for the spare tire around his middle.

"Breathe…deep breath in, then out, then stretch…there you go," she murmured. He could instantly understand why she was a yoga instructor – her raspy voice was low and smooth and he found himself actually relaxing as she instructed him through the stretches. She sat down on her mat, facing him and motioned for him to do the same.

"How do you feel?"

"Relaxed," he admitted, "You're good at that."

She cracked a smile. It wasn't every day someone told her she was good at her job.

"You should come to yoga sometime. It's not as exciting as lifting weights or cardio, but I bet I could make you sweat!" she laughed, the hearty chuckle surprising him. She seemed to compose herself quickly after, looking at him with her head tilted.

"I'm not sure why he said I was the best trainer. I'm not," she admitted, feeling somewhat relaxed. Peeta was quiet and somewhat reserved, but she liked him so far. He blushed when she touched him and hadn't once looked down her cleavage like every other guy would have. Half the guys in the gym besides Gale made a game of 'accidently' rubbing up against the girls when they were in their tight, spandex-y uniforms. She rolled her eyes at the thought.

"You're pretty good at making me feel…better, about this," he admitted, glancing around the room. Nervousness still laced his tone, but he looked a little calmer. He offered her a bashful smile.

"What do you want to get out of this, Peeta?"

His smile faded slightly. He hadn't expected that question, to be honest.

"I…want to learn about fitness and….erm….get in shape and….just look better?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes searching his. He squirmed slightly and she realized he wasn't being entirely honest. Licking her lip, she pulled one leg up to rest under her chin and watched his face.

"Want to tell me the real reason?"


Oh, you had to know Katniss was going to see right through that! I hope you enjoyed this chapter where Peeta starts to face his fears and meets our girl. He's about to get a reality check!

Thank you for all of the kind reviews and responses on this fic - it warms my heart and inspires me to keep writing. I am so glad this fic has resonated with you all and that you are enjoying it. Thank you for reading!