I suck at updating. Sorry.

My second, third and fourth weeks in Boston pass in a flash, and I begin to wonder if life is always so fast-paced in a big city, or if it just flows by quickly because I enjoy the change.

It's Friday again, and I already made a habit out of going to Haymitch's bar every Friday night after dinner. Peeta always works anyway, and it's Finn and Annie's "date" night. I say date loosely because I mostly mean sex. And they are loud.

"If you're going to come every Friday for my advice, I'm going to start charging you by the hour," Haymitch jokes as I remove my coat and sit in front of him.

There's truth in that; during the short time I've spent in the city, he's managed to become my personal therapist. Liquor appears to loosen both my tongue and my dislike for sharing details of my life.

I like to come at this hour, when there's almost no customer yet, and pour my heart into Haymitch's patient ear. I don't think I've ever done that with anyone besides Prim, and I'm glad. Especially now, I don't want to bother her with all my silly troubles, not when she's working so hard.

"How was your week, sweetheart?" He asks, pouring me a drink. I smile, I've had a pretty good week at work. Effie was out with the flu, and there is no use in pretending I wasn't thrilled about it.

"I didn't have to babysit my boss, she was sick all week," I explain.

"I'll drink to that." He raises his glass towards me, and I do the same.

I'm about to ask how his week went when a woman storms from the kitchen to his side, behind the bar.

"Good god, Haymitch, you promised not to let this place go wrong while I wasn't here." She angrily shakes a piece of paper in front of his face.

He rolls his eyes. "Hey, Johanna, when did you get back?"

"Just now, and just in time it seems, Marvel tells me you've forgotten to place our purchase order for next month."

I've heard of his partner, Johanna, both Peeta and Finn painted me quite a picture of that woman, and when I see how beautiful she is, and how provocatively she's dressed, I decide they haven't exaggerated a bit. With her black silky hair up in a trendy ponytail, her dark makeup, her black nails and molding black suit that leaves little to the imagination, she looks every bit like the man eater they described.

Haymitch keeps his cool and wink at me before answering: "We still have plenty of time."

"Don't fuck with me, Haymitch," she curses, her eyes narrowing.

"I'm not, I'll do it tomorrow, I promise," he sobers up quickly, his voice suddenly serious.

I can tell this woman is governing this ship with a hand of steel. She seems content with his answer. Her entire demeanor changes and every muscle in her body relaxes. She starts looking in my direction.

"Hi, I'm Katniss," I introduce myself. I can tell by the way her eyes gauge me she's heard of me.

"So, it's true the Mellarks traded in a beast for a beauty," she says matter-of-factly, and it takes me a second to get it.

She extends her hand to me and I shake it while she says: "I'm Johanna, the pain in Haymitch's butt, but apparently the only one who gets anything done around here."

"Nice to meet you," I smile, while Haymitch rolls his eyes again.

We chat a bit, Haymitch tells me all the details of his latest conquest and Johanna punctuates it with sarcasm. More and more people start to come in and Johanna ends up teaching me how to mix drinks, saying I could get useful sometimes.

When the crowd thickens, I clear the way, not nearly familiar enough with the place to actually help them, and I go back to my seat, thinking about leaving as the music is getting louder and louder.

"Hey Katniss."

I recognize Peeta's voice behind me and turn back in surprise.

"Peeta," I greet him with a smile, he was supposed to work all night.

Johanna comes towards us and plants a kiss on both his cheeks. "Hey Peet!"

"Hey Johanna, had a good trip?"

"You have no idea," she winks at him before going back to her customers.

"I see you've met the devil," he says, turning to me.

"Yeah, weren't you supposed to work through the night?" I ask.

"My evening gig was cut short, and for once I'm happy, I've had a shitty day," he says with a tired expression, signalling to Haymitch to bring him a beer.

"What happened?" I ask, curious. During my three weeks in Boston, I've never heard Peeta say one negative thing about his job or his day.

"Nah, it's not important, I don't want to be a drag"

"No, tell me," I insist.

"It's just the manager at Wild Flour, he's being a total ass about having to work around my bakery schedule, I think I'm going to have to choose between the two" he sighs.

I always forget how hard Peeta works, he's juggling three jobs to save more money. I know he would rather be just a pastry chef but he also waiters, and caters, for just about anything.

"That sucks," I sympathize.

"Big time, he nods, taking a long sip of his beer with a huge frown on his face. I wish I could cheer him up, wipe the worry from his face. I take a look at the dance floor and back at Peeta. Haymitch and Finn have been trying to get me to dance all month, and I never do. I grab Peeta's arm before I can second guess myself.

"Come on, we're going to dance."

He stares at me in shock, already accustomed to my no-dancing rule, but follows me anyway.

I'm a bit buzzed, and I don't hate it as much as I thought I would. In fact, after a song or two, my body starts loosening up to the rhythm and I enjoy myself. The frown on Peeta's face quickly melts away and I'm proud I did that.

We dance, we drink, we laugh and before long I'm thirsty again. I take a quick break to get myself a beer, I ask Peeta over the loud music if he wants one too and he nods.

"Haymitch, two beers," I order playfully, hitting the bar with my hand in a commanding gesture.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?"

"Much," he chuckles and Johanna walks to me with three beers in her hand, opening one for herself.

"God, Peeta looks especially good tonight, don't you agree?" She asks, longing laced in her voice.

I turn back to the dance floor where I left him, he really looks like he's enjoying himself. He looks in our direction, a big smile on his face, I think he's a bit drunk too.

"I guess he does," I answer nonchalantly, not really noticing anything different. Peeta always looks good, he wakes up looking like he does now.

"I can't believe he's still with that boring girl, Fanny something,"

"I think it's Delly," I point out, thinking there is no way I know that and she doesn't.

"Whatever," she scoffs, "he was just so much more fun when she wasn't around, these bakers' hands," she says suggestively, licking her lips, staring at Peeta with a predatory look.

It's obvious she slept with him before, I could kind of figure it out in the way Peeta's cheeks turned red when he talked about her, but I was hoping it wasn't true.

I feel unease rising in my chest the more Johanna talks about Peeta. It's obvious she wishes she could go home with him tonight. It all feels very wrong. He has a girlfriend.

Truth is: I can't picture sweet and gentle Peeta with someone as brazen as Johanna. That forces me to imagine Peeta and Johanna is a sexual scenario. And I really don't want that mental image. I cringe.

"Ok, ok, I'll stop," she chuckles, the sound bringing me back to reality. I have missed at least her last three sentences.

"God, you're sort of a prude, aren't you?

"Beg your pardon?" I defend myself, suddenly very annoyed.

"Don't freak out, I was just reminiscing. I'll spare you the details next time."

Details. Huh.

I grab the beers and go back to Peeta without saying goodbye, pissed.

"Thanks," he says, taking it from me and hesitates before he asks, "What did Johanna say to you, you looked upset?"

I frown, I looked upset? I'm not upset. Ok, I'm not the most open person about sex, but what's wrong with that? Why do people have to talk about those things, to near strangers no less? I've suddenly lost the will to dance.

"Nothing, I just have a bit of a headache." I lie.

"Yeah, it's getting late, want to go home?" He offers and I nod in agreement.

We make our way back to our coats and Peeta insists to pay for our drinks, grabbing his wallet. He struggles with the change a bit. I was right, he is a bit drunk. I find myself looking at his hands, and I can't help but think back to what Johanna said about them. I feel blood rushing to my cheeks. God, I can't be thinking about this.

And then it hits me, why Johanna's comment annoyed me so much. The girl is right, I am a bit of a prude.

Review Please. Elmo13.