Chapter Text
Happy 2016!
Chapter 1: She wanted the help
No. Oh, she can't be doing this to me. I glare at the Help Wanted sign and all that it entitles to any onlookers. How could she. Putting the darn thing in front of our flower stand a few seconds ago, despite my long-winded - and reasonable - refusal. It was too colourful, too personal and just plain unnecessary. We don't even need someone to decorate the pots. 'But it'll mean we can charge more Katniss' she said. Prim had even gone to the extent of handwriting each word in her neat script - a talent that puts my writing to shame - rather than just stealing a cheaper version from another stall.
"Don't you think this is a little too much?" I ask crossing my arms. Prim stands a few feet in front of the stand, smiling as she admires her work oblivious to me questioning her motives. I scowl. It doesn't help that she intentionally put the sign in the centre of our display, concealing the best flower pot arrangements that any and every potential customer would want to see before they make a purchase.
What was the point anyway? Did we really need any more help for our little stand? No. Would it be too much for a single person to handle, especially if they liked flowers? No. With Primrose moving on in life and growing in her potential for so much more than I could ever do, was I given priority over our stall? No, but I should have been. Besides I'm four years older than her; perhaps I should have been better friends with Rue. Maybe then she would have given me the authority of looking after the business. I mean, I haven't spent the last few years dismissing weekend shopping – even though given the chance I'd be reluctant – and lunch for nothing. It's my future, not hers.
This is insulting.
"But Prim" I drone on, uncrossing my arms and slumping my shoulders in defeat. Prim's eyes flicker between me and the sign before settling on me with an apologetic smile when she notices the broken expression on my face.
"I'm sorry Kat, but we need the help. You can't do everything on your own" she says.
"Of course I can," I continue stubbornly, "I've been practically running this whole thing by myself for years, doing absolutely fine, besides I could do with the practise".
She sighs and visibly deflates at my persistence "For what? This is what you wanted to do and you've had more practises then you'll ever need. Oh and lately we've lost a tenth of our weekly customers".
"How's that my fault?" I argue.
"You're not the most charming person to be around. Come on Kat" she says "It'll make me feel better".
"And what about me?" I ask lifting my arms, confused.
"You'll still work here when I'm gone. Besides you could do with more friends" she continues as she reaches forward to pluck a few leaves off wilting flowers.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I complain lowering my arms.
"Nothing just you're not the most social person out there" she says as she arranges the leaves in a pile at the bottom of the sign. Is that supposed to be for decoration? Is she decorating that sign? What a waste.
"There's nothing wrong with that" I argue, I'm perfectly contempt with being alone. She should just agree with me. Everyone knows I'm the one decorating the stand at dawn every day, delivering the ordered flowers in the afternoon and selling to customers at dust. For nine – no, ten years now. It's never her. Sure Prim managed the legal stuff making sure we were allowed our place on the street, ordering flowers and checking our revenue but is it really that hard? I deserve more – no all the authority.
"I agree but we need someone in-between, a person that can help do all the little messy jobs. It'll be less stress" she finishes.
Right because watching and making money off flowers is so hard and as for messy jobs; well what have I been doing then? I heavily exhale and turn away from my sister before leaning back on the stall.
"You're my sister you're supposed to be on my side" I say growing more and more tired of this argument by the minute. "What about Maysilee?" I suggest. She liked flowers, didn't she? I mean she might be old but she had a flower garden at her home. This could just be something to help pass the time. Or maybe I could persuade her to-
Prim's laugh interrupts my train of thought "Maysilee has her job, the same one she's had for fifty years and I'll be getting mine soon. Just trust me Katniss". Way to rub it in. Primrose has spent the last few years searching for a real job because apparently being associated with me and the flower stand isn't a career.
Sighing I pass the next few hours by re-arranging the flowers so they look decorative and appear an amazing quality to match the prices as well as attempting to design the pots and tying the stems for custom made bouquets and flowers. Unfortunately they aren't enough of a distraction to make me forget about Prim complaining about the outcome of the pots. They should be 'prettier' and have a sense of 'artistic finish' whatever that means. Grabbing her tablet she circles the stand taking pictures of the displays and me as I arrange the flowers regardless of how uncomfortable I feel. I don't even see the need for the extensive advertising on our website but she is anything if not persistent.
Thankfully, the time soon came for me to take my hour-long lunch break. It's a shame the sky isn't clear though, huge grey clouds seem to hover and obstruct the light given off by the sun. Scowling, I stroll past a homeless man sitting on the other side of the street and down the marketplace glancing at a few competing shops and stands ranging from clothes to meat, mainly the local butcher who seems to be ever popular. The buildings seem to grow in height the further I walk until they are towering above me, lifeless and dull in desperate need of a new coat of paint and some re-furbishing.
Everything is so different from our colourful stand practically bursting with life; these shops just make the area seem dull and cheap but then again they must have good business otherwise they wouldn't have a shop in comparison to a cheap, homemade stand.
Turning around I queue up at the local butchers and order some meat and put it in a bun. Somehow this shop teamed up with the local bakery – not the best in the district unfortunately – and from what I know they weekly trade products. With fifteen minutes to spare, I quickly eat my small lunch and pay the man before wiping my hands on a cheap napkin near the counter when I see two people come into the shop. Unlike the other customers, one is a teenage boy with ashy blonde hair hidden beneath his hoodie, with a man who I assume to be his father by his side. If not for the stark age gap – visually – then I'd guess they were brothers. As I walk past them I get a clear view of his face, and recognise him instantly. He glances my way, unfazed by the staring but his usual stoic, expressionless face remains the same. He doesn't care.
Peeta Mellark.
He didn't see me – or at least recognise me. He doesn't know I'm here, not that it matters though. I snap out of my thoughts when his father gently touches his shoulder as if he didn't want to frighten the boy. "Peeta, go have a seat, I'll order for us okay?".
He scowls. I instantly hate him for it. That's my thing, besides his father doesn't seem to have done anything wrong. The ignorance of this generation. "Peeta I know your upset, but this will be good for you, alright? These things just take time. Trust me" he continues empathetically. I grimace at the similarity between their conversation and mine with Prim barely an hour ago.
Peeta glares at his father moving out of his reach. The same glare he aims toward anyone in school, even remotely looking in his direction let alone trying to speak to him. I train my eyes on the door and rush past them and everyone in the queue. Did he see me? He must have seen me, right? I shovel my way through the crowds on the street as I return to our stand. Well the stand which is currently missing the Help Wanted sign.
"No" I groan walking over to Prim "What happened?".
She smiles gleefully, "It happened. I hired a new employee, this is perfect and that was fast, wasn't it? See, the sign wasn't a waste". My eyes flitter around our stand analysing the pots when my mind registered her words.
"Wait" I say "You - without asking - where's my. Its been an hour, where's my authority-".
"Kat" Prim says interrupting me as I stutter, "If I had consulted you then you would have tried to talk me out of it again and you wouldn't have seen his potential as a wonderful addition to our business".
His?
I shakily exhale before slowly breathing in, allowing my gaze to focus on the small plants in a box leaned up against the metal bars that held up the green tent above the stand. I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Who" I clear my throat "Err, who is it?"
She pulls a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and tugs at the hem of her dress "A man came by earlier with his son and said he's looking for a job. Oh and the best part; he paints - well kind of, he's an artist but that's just even more useful right! I mean he could paint the pots and help arrange flowers when I'm not here, oh and-".
I tune out her words as she continues to rant on, listing every small job he could do "Is that the only reason you hired him? To design our pots?".
"No he. Look it'll be great, he's amazing, your amazing, I'm amazing. Its perfect, oh" she adds in an afterthought "he's also mute, which is kind of weird but his looks make up for it and anyway painting requires focus so he won't be able to talk and if its important... well he'll figure something out".
A jolt of unease lurches in my chest and I grip the table to keep from falling. "Mute?" I mummer. She nods happily.
"Is his name Peeta?" I whisper. Maybe its someone else, that's possible right?
She nods again destroying any ounce of hope I had left. Prim grins "Yeah, you know him? That's great, see you guys can be friends it isn't as bad as you thought right?".
I think back to the restaurant and Peeta's rude attitude towards his father. How I felt his eyes on my back whenever he sat behind me in class, how he didn't like anyone or anything. How could Prim be desperate enough to hire him?
"I cannot believe this," I murmur, shaking my head in disbelief. How could she be so clueless? After all my hard work at this stand, she's willing to throw it all away for a random painter, I bet his even rubbish at that. I mean Mellark out of all people? Surely you can go back on a deal if you don't like the person right? I don't want to deal with him every day nevertheless somewhere I'm happy.
"What's the big deal?" she asks tiredly.
I scowl, "You're the worst little sister and business associate ever, that's the big deal".
She laughs as she picks up the box of flowers "Stop exaggerating Kat".
I narrow my eyes "Oh, and by the way, can you go around and try to sell the 'Help Wanted' sign? Its in great condition so we could probably get some decent money for it".
I force a smile as I pick up the sign "Sure sis" I say tossing it behind me and into the homeless man's fire, "I mean it was just decent".
She crosses her arms and glares at me as I stroll past her, "Hey Kat?" she calls as I prepare to gather my items for the delivery. I swing around to face her smirking, "He starts Monday."
Authors note ~ hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed this new story, I've already got the next few chapters ready. Should I continue? Please review, I love your feedback!
Happy new year and I hope you all had a merry Christmas or if you don't celebrate it then I just hope you had an amazing day!