A/N: Forget about me? Yeah I think you all did. First off I'd like to apologize to anyone who actually enjoys this story and has been waiting for a year now for me to update. It's just that uni classes have been taking up most of my time and writing this story was the last thing on my mind. This is not officially a chapter more like a teaser. So enjoy it and don't forget to leave feedback! Xxx

There was something about waking up to the feeling of a paintbrush and not a new bruise in his body that gave him some sort of security. Waking up with paint loitering the floor and marks of charcoal on his skin was more comfort than his mother ever was. And it killed Peeta to feel that.

It killed him to know that his mother was not the person he would go to for advice or even for a hug if he had felt alone. The time he had spent if Cheshire a small town in Holmes Chapel were the worst years of his life. From the new born ages to his teenage years, he grew up thinking that a real man showed no weakness, that a real man did not cry, that a real man can stand up for himself without someone else needing to help him.

When Peeta was just a young chap his mum would walk into his room and put him into bed and would always say, "You know Peeta if you were stronger like your brothers than those kids wouldn't bother you!" She would whisper harshly causing the small blond to cringe.

And to those words he would respond, "I'm sorry mummy. I'm sorry I'm not stronger like Rye and Jonah." And he always meant what he said.

But now that Peeta was no longer in Cheshire-not even in Holmes Chapel in England-could he say those words to his mother.

The slight ray of sunshine peeking through Peeta's shades made his bare chest feel warm; it would take some time for Peeta to get used to living in the States, especially with his older brothers.

Peeta blinked a few times allowing his blue cerulean eyes to adjust to the harsh morning light; the room he was in was full of boxes that Peeta had yet to unpack, what can he say? He's an eighteen year old boy who didn't feel like unpacking yet, you can't blame him.

He willed himself out of the comforting bed on onto the cold hardwood floor, his hissed as his toes made contact with it, he could never get used to that.

He grabbed a t-shirt and made his way out of the small room he could already hear his brother Rye singing in the shower. Though the boy could not hold a tune to save his life Peeta still grinned at the familiar voice. It had been years since he last awoke to the sound of his brothers, he would be lying if he said he didn't miss them.

He walked towards the kitchen he faintly remembered passing when he arrived here. "Pete! You're awake!" Peeta was suddenly wrapped in his brothers strong arms a small smile tugged at the end of his lips.

"Hey Jonah." He said, Peeta had two older brothers Jonah being the oldest out of the three and Riley being the second oldest. Leaving Peeta to be the 'baby' of the family.

Peeta winced a little as Jonah put pressure on his shoulder; he could still feel the nail markings his mother left printed on him just hours before he boarded on an aeroplane to America.

A/N: What do you guys think? What's gonna happen next? When am I going to update the official second chapter? I DON'T KNOW! Sorry, please leave feedback as that will make me update faster.

BEFORE I LEAVE I JUST WANTED TO SAY I AM BETAING A STORY THAT IS COMPLETELY AMAZING AND SO AWESOME THAT YOU SHOULD ALL READ IT. JUST GO TO THE PENNAME URLY AND CLICK ON THE STORY "Death Takes A Victor." I promise you, you will not regret reading it. It is simply spectacular.