I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters. I also do not own the lyrics to Some Nights by Fun.

Chapter 1: Some Nights

Peeta's POV

"Alright team! It's ten o'clock, let's go!" I yell out to my team running drills out on the practice field. I can see the way their heads are down and how their feet drag as they jog over to me on the sideline. Knowing the question before it's asked, I automatically try to brighten their spirits. "Come on; lift your eyes and chins up! We're going to win against these towheaded amateurs!"

"Do you really think so?" a gruff voice asks from the back. After a second of looking through my team of gangly thirteen year olds, I see the voice came from none other than our star player, Vick Hawthorne.

"Of course I do! You guys may not be as big as those massive monsters," I steal a look over to the other end of the field where the biggest thirteen year old boys I've ever seen are practicing, "But we are much quicker than they are. Also, you guys are skilled beyond belief! It must have been the best luck I've ever had to have been sent you guys for my team. Honestly, you guys are great and I'll be proud of you no matter what happens out there. As long as you play smart and not rough, you should beat those fools."

I smile at my newly encouraged team and thrust a hand out in front of me. All of the boys follow my lead and together we yell, "Go Lightning!"

We jog over to the playing field, and they automatically align themselves in their positions perfectly without being told. I never have to yell directions to them. They are the smartest bunch of kids I've ever met, and they play like professionals. No doubt every single kid on the team will get a full ride to college to play on the soccer team. I've already seen a few scouts out to watch their games.

The game starts, and my boys figure out how to outsmart the other team within two minutes. The other team's boys are like bulls, so it's hard for them to change direction quickly. My boys draw their opponents in towards them and at the last moment they dart to open inside, quickly passing and scoring goals.

By half-time we're up by six goals. When my team jogs off the field for water, we debrief as we always do.

"John, go." I start quickly.

"I shouldn't have moved into the narrow gap of the two players. It was a trap," John says so swiftly that afterwards he gulps in air to satisfy the needs of his strained lungs.

I waste no time. "Good. Breathe. Timothy, go."

"When John was almost sandwiched and needed to pass, I should have moved up quicker so I could have been there for him."

"Wonderful. Ricky, go."

"During our throw in by Henry, I should have moved up closer to the goal."

"Perfect. Henry, go."

We continue on until I get through all my players, and they all tell me at least one thing that they realize they did wrong.

I can see the other team's coach looking at my team and me from his side of the field with an expression of awe. He must think it's crazy that I'm able to drill my boys like this without any backtalk. I know that a lot of the coaches don't regard me with respect because I'm only twenty one years old. When my team beats theirs though, the coaches usually shut up and stop making jokes at my expense.

"Go back out there and finish it, boys," I say to them with a smile. Then I turn serious, "Remember the number one rule, though."

As the boys stand up to get back on the field to play, they say in unison, "Don't be arrogant."

"That's right, and don't you boys forget it," I call out to my players' backs.

After the game is finished and won by our team by eleven points, everyone decides to go out to eat to celebrate. This is a tradition for our team. We practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays (sometimes Fridays), and then have games Saturdays, and when we win on Saturdays we go out to eat. It's nothing special.

That's what I thought, at least, until this Saturday when I pulled up to our usual restaurant. Because that's when I saw her.

I was standing in the parking lot leaning against my car because I was reluctant to go inside and sit at a huge table by myself while I waited for the first of my group to arrive. Hearing Gale Hawthorne's truck before I could see it, I turned toward the sound. Looking inside his non-tinted windows, I see that he and Vick are not alone. Vick and Rory are sitting in the back seat with a petite blond girl but sitting next to Gale in the passenger seat—the seat that is closest to where I'm standing—was a dark haired woman who was absolutely beautiful.

When they pull up, the window is slightly down, and that's how I'm able to hear her singing. It's music to my ears… literally. I never want to stop hearing it. If I could listen to her voice singing forever, I would do it and would not think twice about it. Even the birds in the looming trees stop their evening songs.

Some Nights by Fun. is what she's singing. I love that song even more now that I hear her rendition of it. It's near the middle and she belts out the lyrics with a grin on her face. All three kids in the back are singing with her, but when the slowed down solo comes—the part that that is supposed to just be spoken—she looks back at the smaller girl in the back and lightly sings with a small smile:

So this is it?

I sold my soul for this?

I washed my hands of God for this?

She looks down and frowns as she sadly sings the next verse.

I miss my mom and dad for this?

Her eyes look up and a half smile replaces her frown.

No, when I see stars, when I see, when I see stars, that's all they are.

When hear songs, they sound like sound like this one, so come on.

Then, as if this has been many times, Vick and Rory in the back seat sing the next 'Oh come on' and hold the note while the blond girl next to them pipes out the next, higher pitched 'Oh come on' and the woman in the front supplies the highest and most beautiful 'Oh come on' of them all. They're all beaming like idiots and even Gale can't help but smile with them and softly shake his head at their antics.

The all ramble out the ending lyrics, tripping over the words and it seems like none of them know the actual words. They don't care though; they mumble and laugh at each other, all the while bouncing to the beat of the song and smiling so widely it makes me wonder if their cheeks hurt. The only words I can actually make out is the young woman crying out in time with the song, "Who the fuck wants to die alone?"

When the song slows again and the singer starts talking about 'his nephew's eyes,' the woman sighs, "Turn it off please, Gale. I love this song up until this part. It ruins the song. It's annoying and unnecessary."

At her words I almost laugh because I think the same thing. The high pitched, strung on word is irritating and pointless to the song. Then the verses directly after it are swift and don't make any sense to me. I usually turn it off in the exact place she did.

Gale indulges in her request and turns off his truck with a small laugh. "Every time, Catnip, without fail… but it doesn't matter to me because you're the only one that has a hope of hitting that note." As an afterthought he hastily adds, "Except, Prim," he turns to look at the blond girl in the back, "She probably could too."

The little girl blushes, "Nah. Only Kat is that good… she's the one that got all of Dad's voice skills."

The car grows silent, but I don't know why. Honestly, all I can think about is how two people (one of whom I think is her sister) have referred to the ravishing woman in the front as 'Cat'. Or 'Catnip"… that is definitely not what I was expecting her name to be, but I guess I don't really care.

In the car, no one will look at 'Cat' and the little girl—Prim—touches her shoulder, "I'm sorry I bought it up. Let's just go eat."

The older girl nods and smiles softly at her sister. As they all start to climb out of the car, I realize I've been staring at them the entire time. I shift my eyes and body slightly towards the road so it seems like I've been staring there the whole time.

Vick sees me and smiles. He runs up and hugs me, and I laugh at his excitement. He asks if I've been waiting long, and I tell him that I haven't.

The rest of the group approaches and I shake Gale's hand. I look next to the blond girl, even though all I really want to do is stare openly at the dark haired woman.

"Hello," I say with a smile, "I don't believe we've met- Oh yes, we have. Hi, Prim."

"Hi, Peeta," she responds with an easy smile, "I didn't know you were Vick's coach."

"Well, I didn't know that you knew the Hawthorne's."

"Yeah, I've known them since I was a kid. I'm actually Rory's girlfriend."

I don't show it on my face, but I am surprised at this information. I know Rory is seventeen, and I've always assumed this girl to be 15 at the maximum. She is thin and lankier than the average female and has a child-like atmosphere around her.

Prim continues on, "This is my sister. I think I might have mentioned her before."

I look over to the black haired woman and realize that I was wrong. This woman is not beautiful.

No, beautiful is not the right word and neither is pretty, I think to myself, Beautiful is not strong enough. She is- she is… radiant.

She is the most amazing woman I've ever seen. I wish that I had I pencil and paper so I could draw her with as many details as possible, so I never forget anything that makes her radiant. I want to snap a picture of her for later, but that would be severely creepy.

Then she speaks and her magnificent steel grey eyes are on mine, "I'm Katniss, Prim's sister."

So I was wrong about her name. The older girl's name isn't 'Cat' or a type of cat food. At least I can be happy that I was wrong. This way every time I hear her name, I won't think of cat food.

We are still making eye contact, but when Vick asks if we want to go get a seat inside, she looks away. I miss her eyes on mine, but am content with just looking at her face in stolen glances.

The group that arrived in the Hawthorne truck heads inside with me trailing a few feet behind them and their laughter at some inside joke that I missed.

I walk into the restaurant and can't help thinking that this evening might be one the best one I ever have. All thanks to a black haired, young woman with the voice of an angel from heaven high above.