A/N: I promised I'd do this like 6 months ago, and when I was traveling this weekend I started getting ideas and I ended up writing this chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

Rating for language, drug use, sexual content.

It looks like a dollhouse. Like a dollhouse made of pink and blue cotton candy, whipped cream clouds above, nestled on an acreage beyond an equally pink picket fence. If you can stomach the Pepto Bismol hue, it's a dream Victorian home. Why have a little house on the prairie when you can have a big house in the Rockies? Big house, that's perfect, because that's essentially what it is - my prison for the next eight weeks.

"Johanna!" calls Cinna with far more enthusiasm than is purely necessary. "Let's get moving! Your true you awaits you!" Pardon me for not being able to echo his excitement. I shouldn't even be here, it's not like I actually need their help.

I met Cinna yesterday evening when my boyfriend, Blight, dropped me off at home after our few hours of work in the forest after school. It turned out he was actually dropping me into a sneak attack intervention. I walked into my living room to see the caramel skinned-man with a small afro and plenty of bling standing there in a blue t-shirt with "straight is great" blazoned across the chest. He told me that my parents, friends, and boyfriend wanted to have a conversation with me, and that he was there to help facilitate that dialogue. My reasonable confusion was solved pretty quickly when people started bringing up things ranging from the few times I'd made out with girls at clubs when we'd hit the city (who hasn't?) to my reluctance to kiss Blight (which I blamed on his prickly facial hair, to no avail), to my fondness for Orange is the New Black. Apparently, those things plus my vegetarianism and my Tegan and Sara poster add up to me being a lesbian. Cinna and my parents told me I needed healing, and the next thing I knew, I was being carted off to this facility in Colorado Springs, home of Hokus Pokus for the Family or whatever those creepy religious nutjobs are called. My parents are probably hoping True Directions can cure my agnosticism too.

I reluctantly climb out of the vehicle and grab my luggage from the backseat. Cinna offers to take it, but I scoff and brush him off. It's mostly because I resent the fact that he's treating me like a little lady, but the whittling knife I snuck into a hidden compartment in my checked luggage also factors into me not wanting anyone else to touch it. It didn't even occur to me that I'd have to declare it at Customs until we were on the plane. I'm not usually that brainless. Thankfully, it slipped through. I've slung my small duffel bag over my shoulder and am rolling the suitcase up the sidewalk when the hot pink door swings open and a woman with flawlessly straight grey hair comes floating down the stone steps to greet me, closely followed by an African-American man decked out in blue, much like Cinna.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome! You must be Johanna!" the woman beams. "I'm Alma, the founder of True Directions. This is my assistant, Boggs." The man behind her steps closer, and I immediately note his kind brown eyes that contrast starkly with Alma's almost inhuman light grey ones. All her grey features don't go so well with her bright pink outfit. I'm sensing a theme here.

"Pleasure to meet you, Johanna," Boggs says in a tone as gentle as his eyes. He goes to grab my luggage, and I instinctively clutch it tighter.

"We have a bit to catch up on, Johanna," Alma explains. "Boggs will just drop those off in the room for you so you don't have to drag them around the house. Don't worry, he won't bite." It's not him I'm worried about, to be honest. I hand the bags over warily, and he takes them with a silent smile. Cinna quickly steps up to take the duffel bag a little too eagerly, and the two of them disappear into the house. "Let's go chat in my office," Alma says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. I'm wigging out before I even walk in the front door. Everything about her, and this place, feels incredibly creepy and fake.

A few minutes later, I'm seated across a glass desk from the founder, who has a name placard in from of her reading, "Alma B. Coin." I'll bet I know what the "B" stands for.

"I went over more with the others in orientation earlier this afternoon," she explains, "But I'll give you the basics. It's a two-month program based on five simple steps." I cock an eyebrow at her with a hint of a smirk, and she quickly abandons her fake smile. "Let's just concentrate on the first step, Johanna," she asserts. "You admitting your problem." I still say nothing, so she clears her throat and begins, "When you see a woman in a tight skirt, and her long, beautiful legs…"

"Listen, Mrs. Coin," I finally butt in, "no disrespect or anything, but you're wasting your breath. I'm not gay."

"Of course you're not!" she smiles overenthusiastically. "Not at your core. The point of this program is to help you discover your latent heterosexuality. But you're getting ahead of yourself. First, you must admit that you have yet to discover it."

"But that's not true," I protest. "If anyone knows what my sexuality is, you'd think it would be me."

Coin purses her lips. "Yes, you would think."

I lay my forearms on the desk and lean forward with unrelenting eye contact. "Are you a mind-reader, Alma?" I sneer.

The older woman hardly seems perturbed, rather she mostly looks amused. It is irksome, to say the least. We are still locked in this staring contest when a knock sounds on the door near the back of the room. "Come in!" Alma barks.

A jittery redheaded girl with thick-rimmed glasses timidly enters, also wearing a horrendous pink outfit. If they think I'm gonna wear one of those, they have something else coming. "Alma? Cinna said you wanted to see me."

"Yes, Annie," she replies warmly, at least by her standards, "I wanted you to show our late arrival to the room, help her get settled in before she gets involved." Involved? I'm not sure I want to know what that means. Annie's eyes dart to my face and immediately away. I smile. Nothing like a little intimidation. Well, either she's intimidated, or she thinks I'm hot. I can use either. "Johanna, this is Annie," Coin says, pulling my attention back to her. "She's a fellow soldier fighting the battle for righteousness," she declares with fervor. My eyes and face scrunch. What the hell is with these people? "She'll show you around, and, well, you'll get acquainted."

I'm sure we will.

***o***

We've exited the front door and started along the terrace before Annie says two words to me. Six, actually. "So, you're the one from Canada?" she inquires, still barely looking me in the eye.

I chuckle. "My reputation precedes me?"

"Alma mentioned it, said you had a long flight in."

I roll my eyes. "It's not even that far, it's just that we had to drive to Prince George and then transfer in Vancouver because I'm from a logging town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. That, and I only had this whole thing sprung on me last night, so I just left this morning. Barely had time to pack."

"No point in packing much, anyway," she mutters. "We have to wear these things pretty much the whole time."

"Well, I didn't know that." She shrugs. "What about you? Where are you from?"

"California."

"Oh, yeah?" I grin. "You a surfer?"

"Swimmer. There's a boy here who surfs, though… he's from NorCal too. And he swims, too. All-State."

"Someone have a straight crush?" I tease her, poking her in the ribs. Clearly flustered, she ducks her head and pushes her glasses up her nose. "Don't get ahead of yourself, there. That must be at least a couple more steps, right?"

That brings her eyes back up. "Alma didn't tell you all the steps?"

"No," I smile in relief, "you interrupted at the perfect time, actually."

"Mm. Well, you didn't miss much besides that," she muses, ushering me toward a pink door across a patio. "Group therapy and re-orienting exercises daily, family therapy on the weekends."

"Re-orienting exercises?"

"Something about our gender identities being all wrong."

"Right," I scoff, "Because I don't wear pink all the time?"

Annie looks over my outfit and ominously assures me, "You will soon," before swinging the door open and leading me inside.

"Oh," is about all I can say. The room looks like a Barbie dream catalogue barfed on it, all pink and plastic and generally gross. There's another pink-clad girl in here already, lounging on one of the beds and reading a book. Great, is everyone here a giant nerd?

It's just crossing my mind that having a bunch of lesbians sleep in one room might not be the best way to convert them when Annie addresses the issue. "And this is where we sleep," she says, stating the obvious. "But there's no inappropriate behavior allowed."

"Inappropriate, Mermaid?" I purr, leaning in closer and winding a tendril of her hair around my finger. "What ever could you mean by that?" The girl brushes profusely, and I turn into the room, very pleased with myself. I may not be a lesbian, but that doesn't mean I can't entertain myself with them. In fact, it's better that I'm not, because I'm immune to their charms… but no one's immune to mine. I blink over to the other girl and immediately catch her striking grey eyes staring at me over the top of her book. She blinks away after holding my gaze for a few seconds, but with the book over her face, I couldn't get a read on her expression. "Hey," I greet her as I head over to the bed where the men dropped my bags, which happens to be adjacent to hers. "I'm Johanna."

"Katniss," she says clearly but quietly in a deep, raspy voice, but with her nose still in the book. I squint across my bed and irritably kick off my shoes and socks. Unless you're talking about my family, in which I was the forgotten middle child until my supposed queerness made me special, I'm not used to being ignored. I don't like it.

Before I have any time to question what I'm doing, I've crawled across the mattress and come to rest with my feet dangling above the floor, my short legs insufficient to reach it. I sit there and silently observe her until the awkwardness forces her to respond, either that or I've been looking at her long enough now to fully grab her attention. She lowers the book, giving me a better view of her smooth, olive complexion. Between her apparent height and dark, stony features, I can't help but observe that she's absolutely fucking gorgeous. Though the burbling in my stomach doesn't feel entirely like jealousy, it's still a huge compliment when I catch her eyes roaming my torso. I grin smugly as she finally meets my eyes, but this just pulls an annoyed grimace onto her face. So she's stunning and uptight. "Can I help you?" she asks impatiently.

I smirk and slide my forearms down my knees, leaning in closer. "I'm sure you'd like that," I drawl, "but the sea siren over there just said that's not allowed." Annie huffs as she passes us on her way to the attached bathroom, only pulling my lips wider.

Annie is closing the door behind her by the time Katniss sneers, "Don't flatter yourself."

Bitch. Where does she get off questioning my attractiveness? I've been returning her scowl for a few seconds before I remember I'm wearing sweats and a hoodie. They're comfortable clothes for flying, but don't make much of an impression. I grin slyly and stand up, stretching my arms above my head. "My apologies," I say sweetly. "Modesty's never been my forté." She squints warily but nods in acknowledgment of this admission. She probably thinks I mean humility. While that's also true, she's about to find out exactly how immodest I can be. I expel a theatrical yawn and then lower my arms, only to grab the sides of my sweater and lift it over my head. I feel my t-shirt riding up, exposing my stomach along the way. Once the sweatshirt has cleared my eyes, they immediately catch the other girl's and find them… I don't even know. Affected? She has a very convincing poker face, but her eyes betray a diverse cocktail of emotions that are hard to suss out. There's irritation for sure, and suspicion, but perhaps also a hint of… curiosity, maybe?

She probably wasn't expecting anything beyond that accidentally-on-purpose abdominal exposure, because her eyes start to grow when I move to peel off the shirt. "I'm all rank from my flight," I give as a flimsy explanation. "Pardon me." She doesn't protest. She doesn't say anything at all. She doesn't even try to look away when I slip my elastic waistband over my hips and let the pants drop to the floor, though I think it might be because she's too shocked to react. I wasn't planning on getting completely naked, but something about seeing this sullen, hostile girl apparently mesmerized by my body gives me a shot of boldness and eggs me on. So much for not flattering myself, bitch. Her eyes practically bulge out of their sockets as I unhook my scarlet bra and let it slide down my arms and to the floor, her mouth dropping open just as wide. Judging from her reactions, she's probably a virgin. I am too, though likely not by lesbian standards. But most people wouldn't guess my lack of experience, and that's not something I'm about to go around sharing.

I'm struggling to keep a smug grin off my face in favour of acting completely chill, but thankfully, Annie provides a distraction by exiting the bathroom just as I'm sliding my matching panties down my hips. "Oh my…" she trails off, fighting to keep her eyes down as I kick my final garment aside. I can practically see her getting hard, despite the lack of an obvious appendage.

"Sorry, is this too inappropriate for you?" I smirk and turn around to dig in one of my bags for some jeans. Not at all to put my ass on display. I wiggle into the new pants and turn around just as I zip them up. Katniss raises her eyes from my hips, but doesn't get past my shoulders. I turn my attention to Annie, or at least I pretend to.

"So, Annie, tell me about the rest of the group," I suggest. "Who's the fourth girl?" I specify, jerking my head toward the messed up bed between hers and mine.

"Um, she's a goth or something. A punk, maybe? She has piercings and things."

"Oh, yeah?" I smirk, fastening a new bra over my diaphragm. "What does she have pierced?" Annie's mouth flaps silently a few times as she struggles to find words. I eventually take pity on her. She's not really the one I'm trying to unnerve, anyway. Easy isn't fun. "What about the boys?"

"Just three," she chokes out, seemingly relieved now that I'm pulling on a tiny tank top. It's some coverage, anyway. "Finnick, the surfer. And two boys from Pennsylvania."

"That's boring," I say decidedly.

Annie points down at the girl on the bed and informs me, "She's from there, too."

I look over the darker girl for a moment before declaring, "I stand by my statement," while pulling on a flannel to hang loosely from my shoulders. I bend forward enough to give them a prime view of my cleavage and finally look Katniss in the eye. Not that she's looking me in the eye. "Something in the water over there?"

The question directed at her finally seems to break her out of her daze, but she still has to visibly shake the cobwebs from her brain. "It's not entirely a coincidence," she explains. "Gale's my cousin."

"Is that the punk girl?" I ask with a furrowed brow, confused over what that has to do with geography.

"No," she snaps. "Gale's a boy, moron." Oh, okay, now I get what she's saying. But the poor guy.

I snort and give my head a shake. "No wonder he's gay." The other two continue to stare at me, and it's almost starting to feel awkward. The pink in this room is giving me a headache anyway, so I decide to take my leave and collect my nerves away from prying eyes. I throw on a new pair of socks and round the bed to jam my feet back in their shoes. Then I smirk broadly at the two girls, making sure to make plenty of eye contact with the darker one, and purr, "Let's do it again sometime." I sashay out the door, making sure to sway my hips confidently. But the instant I hear it click shut, I slump back against it and release a heavy breath. Holy fuck. That was ridiculous, even for me. But the looks on their faces were totally worth it.

***o***

Half an hour later, I'm on the hot seat in the True Directions living room. Literally, they call it the hot seat. I quell my own anxiety by joking inwardly about how fitting that is.

"Johanna, meet the rest of our group," says Alma. She nods to my far left, where the aforementioned punk is sitting, though I think that was a bit overstated. Half of her hair has been shaved off, but it appears to be its natural blonde hue. Her only visible piercings so far are two eyebrow rings on her shaved side.

However, she proves Annie's intuitions right when she stands up and announces, "I'm Cressida, I like punk rock, I'm a homosexual." Piercing blue eye bore into mine as she sits down, and I stare into them about as helplessly as a deer in the headlights.

A strikingly beautiful young man with bronze hair and tanned skin pops out of his seat next and introduces himself as, "Finnick. Swimmer, model, homosexual." He has a bit of the telltale lisp, but it's under a smooth Californian accent. I briefly wonder if he's a plant to try to turn the lesbians; it might already be working on the redhead a little bit. But he's not my type. I like dark and brooding. Like the guy next to him. He's probably that bitch's cousin.

"Gale, homosexual hunter and trapper," the boy says once he's stood up, confirming my suspicions. He smiles faintly. "How you doin'?" I return his smile and nod cordially. Despite the venom in his bloodline, I've instantly taken a liking to him. And he's very handsome, maybe even bangable. If these people think I'm gay, they're nuts.

Katniss is next in line, but she just grunts, "We met."

"Katniss!" barks Alma.

The girl rolls her eyes, stands up, and announces in an overly sweet tone, "I'm Katniss, and I like reading, archery, and girls." She turns to Alma and adds condescendingly, "Oh, and I'm a homosexual." Wow, and people call me an antisocial cunt.

Once Katniss is seated, the last boy stands and waves shyly. "I'm Peeta Mellark, I work in a bakery…" he says, immediately revealing himself as a hand-talker. "I'm a homosexual." Oh great, what a fucking bimbo. With his well-groomed features and defined muscles, he's what the gays would call… a twink, is it? A blond sissy, certainly, though not as outwardly flamboyant as Finnick.

Annie doesn't make any personal statements, but I guess she's exempt because she was my tour guide. She can't even look me in the eye, anyway. I should probably apologize for using her to get under Katniss's skin. Not that I'll ever blatantly admit that that was my intention.

I flick my eyes over to Alma, who's sat down beside her. "It's time for your first disclosure," she starts, "now don't be intimidated." Can I really help it? I mentally double-check that I've stilled my jittery knee and am keeping my eyes glazed over. "Why don't you start by telling us about the first time that you realized that you might be a lesbian?"

"I'm not," I remind her. I look around at the group blankly. "Everyone just thinks I am. I shouldn't even be here."

The others exchange knowing glances while Alma clears her throat and plasters on a smile. "That's a perfectly normal place to start. Why don't we discuss the issues in your intervention?"

I run over the catalogue of reasons in my head and respond, "Well, I'm a vegetarian."

The group replies with a chorus of groans and a collective, "Mm hmm."

"I sometimes make out with girls at bars," I admit.

"And you think you're straight?" Annie inquires with a hint of incredulity.

"Sure," I say decisively. "Everybody does that."

"I don't," Peeta chimes in.

"Shut your pie hole, Pita Bread," I retort. "Of course, you don't. You're gay as a tennis player."

"So you've watched Imagine Me and You," observes Cressida. My eyes go wide, drawing a lopsided smirk onto her lips. "I'm a big movie buff." She winks and adds, "Am I gay?"

"I'm ecstatic!" I finish the line emphatically with a huge grin.

"Wow, you are really fucking gay," Katniss observes dryly.

"I am not!" I insist over Alma's command to lay off the profanity. "I have a boyfriend."

"Do you?" asks Alma, turning her attention back to me.

"Yeah, we've been together two years." I hold her gaze knowingly and list off, "He's smart, popular, rugged and handsome–"

"He's got the biggest dick you've never seen?" Katniss suggests. This gives me pause, briefly, because it's actually completely accurate. Not that I haven't felt it grinding against me through his pants on the rare occasion when we've gotten hot and heavy. But I haven't seen it, and I don't really care to, admittedly.

Annie saves me from this awkward moment of self-reflection when she expounds on Katniss's question in her in her own jittery way. "Well, um, have you ever… had sex with him?" She cringes and makes a sour face at the end of this sentence, as though she finds the concept truly repulsive.

"Of course," I say with a measure of relief. "I let him go down on me any time he shaves off that damn beard."

"Oh, honey." I barely hear Finnick's voice over the sound of Katniss snorting. I glare at her, but she just smirks in return.

"I could get off with anyone's face between my legs," Cressida states flatly. "But does he make you hot? I mean, do you think of him at night when you…" She makes a suggestive face.

I stare daggers at her and demand, "Are suggesting I have a problem getting it up?"

"Are you suggesting you have a dick?" Gale snaps back just as quickly.

"I told you, gay as all hell," Katniss smirks, prodding her cousin with her elbow. She gestures at my outfit. "I mean, just look at that flannel."

"I'm a lumberjack," I inform her.

She snickers and shakes her head. "That's not helping your case."

"Look, I'm not like the rest of you!" I exclaim, standing up forcefully. "Everyone ships Vauseman, everyone checks out other girls, all the time!"

"But you're only assuming that they're thinking what you're thinking when they look," Gale responds firmly. "But they're not." What? Then what the hell are they thinking about? How that chick is gonna be such stiff competition to get a man? Gross.

"And that the girls you make out with at the club enjoy it as much as you do," Annie chimes in. "But they're doing it to get attention from boys or because they're drunk."

"Drunk off their asses," Katniss grumbles.

"But they don't get the same feelings we do," Annie finishes after throwing a quick glare her way.

I flick my eyes between them and manage a weak "…We?"

"You know, tightness and butterflies in the stomach, weak knees, heart going crazy…" Katniss elucidates.

"Fire in the hole," Cressida contributes, smirking crassly. "And when you go to the bathroom next, you're like, 'Where the hell did that come from?'"

"I… I thought that happened to everyone," I murmur, wide eyes darting about. "I thought that was normal." I hear a tinge of desperation seeping into my tone as I focus on Alma and appeal, "I just wanna be normal."

"Then you admit you're not normal," she replies firmly. "So why don't you admit you're a homosexual?"

I can feel myself beginning to panic internally as my mind starts zooming between various memories. Cinna telling me how denial is normal part of the healing process I'd be exploring here. How I went out of my way to kiss girls at the club, but avoided kissing Blight. Even when he'd shaved, admittedly. My excessive affection for my gym teacher in junior high.

"I'm a homosexual," I say slowly, testing it out on my tongue. It doesn't taste as sour as I might have expected. It's not that I find homosexuality repulsive, but I always assumed that one day I'd marry Blight or some other forest worker in the town, and we'd settle in a nice cabin in the woods and I'd pop out a few babies. But then, it appears I've been assuming a lot.

"I'm a homosexual," I repeat, looking up at the group. Their expressions range from sympathetic to haughty to concerned. My eyes are as wide as saucers as I turn to Alma, who's stepped up beside me. She is beaming proudly.

"Congratulations, Johanna!" she exclaims. "You've just taken your first step in your true direction!"

The group swiftly descends on me to smother me in a group hug, but I don't really reciprocate because my mind is still too numbed. Katniss notably stays seated, but I'm fine with that. As the others say their goodbyes and start to file out, I catch Cressida giving me a once over from a foot away. She doesn't blink away shyly like Annie would; she smirks shamelessly and lets her eyes linger a little bit longer as she prowls away. I blink my eyes back into the room and they jump to Katniss, who's now standing by the couch. Though she's still eyeing me with distaste, she throws me a sly wink on her way out the door. Bitch has to rub it in.

"Don't worry, Johanna," Alma smiles, laying a hand on my shoulder. "It's gonna be okay." I stare at her blankly and nod, because I don't trust myself to speak. "Here, put these on," she says, thrusting a pink blouse and skirt into my arms. I gawk at them disbelievingly as I hear her heels clicking away. I guess I might as well get with the program, now that I know it actually does apply to me. They were right. I'm a homo.

***o***

Sushi is on the menu tonight. And they say this place is supposed to make us less gay. I, of course, have to stick to the California Rolls. I'm munching on one on my way to find a seat when I pass by Katniss, who's sitting with her fellow Pennsylvanians at one of the tables. She glowers at me and all but spits, "Congratulations on your first step, Axe Wound."

I sidle up to the other table while keeping a wary eye on her, and Finnick is quick to pat my arm and say, "Don't listen to her." He looks her way and continues pointedly, "She's just upset 'cause the fish on her plate is the only kind she can eat!"

I feel like thinking about eating any kind of fish is not something that would prove very helpful for me right now, so I quickly attempt to change the subject. "So, Cressida," I say, turning to the girl on my right, "You're a movie buff, huh?"

"You can call me Cress," she smirks, a twinkle in her eye. "And, yeah. Filmmaking's a hobby of mine."

"I'm sure it is," drawls Finnick, winking facetiously.

"Porn? I wish," she snorts. "Then maybe I'd feel I deserve to be here."

"Didn't you say you're gay?" I mention.

"I meant then I'd at least have done something worth punishing," she grumbles, stabbing haphazardly at her side of rice. I stare blankly at her. "What, do you really think we should be stuck in this place over something we can't control?" she demands, now waving the chopsticks animatedly.

"I thought it was like a prison when I got here too, but maybe it's more meant to be like a support group, you know?" I ponder. "Try thinking of it that way."

"So, stripteasing me and Annie," Katniss immediately growls from the other table, "that was meant to be supportive?"

"I'm sorry," I mumble, eyeing my plate. "I… I didn't know."

"Wait," Cress whines, "I missed a striptease?"

Everyone is looking on with interest now, except for Annie, who's turned beet red and is covering her ears with her hands like she's trying to block out reality. I faintly hear Peeta mumble, "Ew."

"You knew Annie was gay, you knew I was," Katniss argues forcefully. "Didn't it occur to you that maybe some of us are trying to get through this program without getting kicked out? That maybe we have things on the line?"

"What," I patronize her, "like Mommy and Daddy won't love you anymore?"

I can see rage boiling up in her expression, but then she suddenly throws on that poker face again. She shakes her head and mutters, "You are unbelievable" into her plate. I was expecting her to say more, but I guess she's a woman of few words. It's a shame. I enjoy getting a rise out of her, of course, but I'd love to make that uptight bitch absolutely lose it.

A/N: So I know I totally reversed the intuitive casting of the main roles, but once I got this idea, I fell completely in love with it. Also, Katniss as Graham is hot but Katniss as Megan would annoy the hell out of me, while Johanna would be a badass in either role, so it was a win-win. It also gives me a lot more room to play with plot, so this will only somewhat follow the movie plot, though there will be lots of references to the original scenes.

Thanks to D7P for the beta read and a really cute pun.