Fancy

Chapter 2

Peeta

When I first heard about Katniss working at the Trackerjacker, I didn't believe it. She's not the kind of girl who would work at a place like this. She's always been insecure about how she looks, supposedly not even wanting to change in front of the other girls when we had gym class back in high school. I didn't think I'd ever see her again after her mom kicked her out. But the night of my brother's bachelor party, I learned how wrong I was.

When I saw her on the stage when I walked in, I wasn't quite sure it was her. All I saw was dark hair highlighted by cherry red streaks and soft olive skin. I barely even recognized her when she was sitting right next to me. She was wearing makeup that made her eyes glow and she never once wore makeup all the times I'd seen her before.

But when she was sitting on my lap, right in front of me, talking to me, I recognized those beautiful storm cloud hey eyes of hers. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The girl of my dreams sitting on my lap in nothing but red lingerie. And then she shocked me even more by kissing me. When that happens, I know for sure she doesn't have a clue who I am.

She pulls away and then laughs as she leans over and grabs a Kleenex from the table behind her.

"I'm sorry," she says. "But I got lipstick all over your face." She gently starts wiping around my mouth, giggling every once in a while.

"What's your name?" I ask her, wondering what she'll answer since I know very well she wouldn't use her real name around here.

"You can call me Fancy," she says. "Thats what everyone around here calls me."

"But it's not your name," I say.

"No," she says. "But I don't think my real name is any of your business." The frown on her face proves that the honey in her voice earl as she flirted with me was jus that, flirting. It wasn't real. She gets up and starts trying to walk away. I grab her arm and her eyes shoot daggers at me.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I crossed a line."

"You're right," she says, "You did. Because I don't tell anyone my name. I don't want this reputation following me around the rest of my life."

"I guess I can understand that," I say. She sits back down next to me.

"Half the people who work here don't even know my name," she says. "They can't know me as a person. Only as Fancy."

"Why?" I ask her.

"Because I don't want to be known as a stripper," she says. "I know this is a lot to lay on a complete stranger, but I want a life some day. I'm gonna be a lady someday. Someone my Daddy would have been proud of instead of ashamed of."

"Do you wanna go somewhere and talk sometime?" I ask.

"I don't do that," she says. "I may make my money taking my clothes off in front of strangers, but I don't sneak off for quickies with them in the ally beside the dumpsters."

"No I mean like go out for coffee or something," I say.

"I don't do that either," she says. "I don't go in public. I don't like it. I see the faces of wives, girlfriends, mothers, fathers, children, boyfriends and I can't help but wonder if I'm seeing one of my coworkers families and if they know their little girl is striping or wether I gave their husband or boyfriend a lap dance the night before. And I can't walk around out there as Fancy. She stays here and I," she has tears in her eyes as she stumbles over the last words. "I can't be myself if I'm ever going to get anyone's respect."

"No one needs to know," I say. "You can just tell me a name. It doesn't have to be yours."

"No," she says. "I've already told you too much." She looks over at the clock and smiles. "My shift is almost over now anyway. I guess this is goodbye." She stands again and walks out of the room and I follow her.

"Fancy wait!" I call but she keeps going so I whisper shout something I never intended to say in such a public place. "Katniss!" I almost think she didn't hear me until she turns around and stares at me with utter horror written on her face. She walks back over to me and shoves me into a room I didn't notice and locks the door behind her. She then turns on me and shoves me into the wall.

"Who are you and how the hell do you know my name?" she asks, staring at me with confusion and fear in her wide grey eyes.

"You really don't recognize me do you," I say. "You have no idea who I am?" She steps away and shakes her head.

"I know you," she says. "You look so familiar but, I just don't know where from."

"My name is Peeta," I say. "I was," I start but she cuts me off.

"I remember," she says. "I'll never forget what you did for me. But now I suppose you'll tell people that the Seam rat is stripping so they can all come in and laugh and point at the fact that this is the only steady job I can get is as an exotic dancer."

"Why would I do that?" I ask her. "I care about you. I've always cared about you. Why would I embarrass you like that?"

"Because I'm not like you," she says. "I'm a slut. I feed and clothe myself on singles I earn from lap dances and strip teases."

"But I don't care," I say. "That doesn't change how I always have and always will feel about you."

"What are you saying?" she asks taking a step back.

"I'm saying I love you Katniss," I reply. "I always have. And I'm gonna find a way to get you out of here." She just stares at me, shaking slightly.

"I don't need you," she snaps. "I can get myself out of this just fine when I'm ready. But I don't want help. I want to do this on my own accord and walk out of here with my head held high, knowing I'll never have to come back. I might have been born trash to some people, but here, I'm Fancy. And no one can do it for me. I don't need your help and you'll never convince me otherwise." She walks back to the door and shoots a glance at me. "I get off early tomorrow. If you still want to talk, I'll tell you everything then."

"Yes," I say. "I want to know."

"Then meet me at midnight in the hanging tree," she says. "I'll tell you my story."