The Writer Games | Once In A Lifetime & World Edition

Welcome: Minnie Amentia

Minnie floats amongst  the tributes backstage. An absent-minded smile plays across her innocent  features in striking contrast to the furrowing brows of worry around  her. Her eyes wander the full length of the room as if unable to settle  on what to observe first. The lights, the people; everything in the  Capitol gleams with unnatural vivacity and Minnie can hardly keep up.  Eventually she notices a familiar face. In the cavernous surroundings of  foreign sights she is instantly drawn to the comfort of home. Her  footsteps tap out an eager patter through the austere silence.

"Why is it so quiet?"  she asks. Her voice rings with a melodic innocence. It sounds childlike  but only because it lacks the grounding tone of reality.

"People are nervous."  Finn is kind enough to humour her with an answer. But the sombre stare  of concentration and lowered gaze are obvious signs that he would rather  be alone with his thoughts. Signs that Minnie is utterly oblivious to.

"Are you nervous Finn?"  She calls him by his name. It is a conscious decision. Not to focus his  attention but to focus hers. They look so similar that it is a chore to  remind herself that he is not Felix. A twisting guilt accompanies this  practice. Without meaning to Finn's name has become entangled with a  sinking fog of loneliness. He is in no rush to answer her question and  that leaves her conscience to speak first.

"I want us to be  friends." She doesn't understand that the blurred associations of her  mind are a narrative inaccessible to others. She doesn't understand that  from Finn's perspective the statement has fallen out of nothing.  Minnie's intentions and thoughts are a book that only Finn can read; for  the rest of the world they are a garbled collection of nonsense. When  he frowns she does not associate it with confusion but with rejection.  She bites her lip to stop herself from crying. There is a way to remedy  this. The solution flutters just outside of her reach. It is abstract  much like her love for Felix. It exists but with no tangible form to  cling onto, Minnie can not formulate thought into coherent words. She is  left with the only option of watching Finn with doleful eyes.

Whilst in the midst of searching for a remedy, Minnie hears her name echo around backstage.

"It's your turn," Finn  informs her. With delicate steps she ambles towards the garish lights of  the stage. But the sight that lies around the corner overwhelms her.  Too many people, too many colours and too many noises. Her breaths  become marred by panic. She attempts to scuttle back to the safety and  darkness of backstage. But rough and commanding hands find her to shove  her back into the frenzy of the stage.

Minnie stands on the  edge of the stage. Her eyes widen in panic to orbs of crystalline blue.  Even beneath the layers of make up the stylists could not hide the  innate innocence that shines from her expressions. The flurry of  thoughts jostling through her mind freeze her to the spot.

"It's customary to take a  seat." Helvetica's jeer sends a burst of laughter through the crowd.  Minnie knows the distinction between good laughter and bad. She's heard  bad laughter often enough to know that everyone in the room is mocking  her. In a startled panic she makes her way to the seat and promptly  perches herself on the edge. She doesn't want to make herself  comfortable. She wants to be able to leave as soon as possible.

"What is your strategy  for these Games?" Helvetica launches straight into the inquisition  without pause for introduction. Minnie's thoughts are already swimming  in confusion and so her answer is immediately buried under a mass of  swirling panic.

"I... I don't know," she  stutters. Before the laughter has even started Minnie knows it will be  the bad type. She winces as the grating noise of squealing giggles  reaches her ears.

"Not very talkative, are  we? Why don't you tell us what makes you a contender for these Games?"  The question immediately strikes Minnie as odd. She repeats it in her  head a few times but she cannot reconcile the question and the sombre  faces waiting backstage.

"I don't think you can  call it a game if no one is having any fun." This time when the crowd  laughs Minnie can instantly detect the difference. It is the good sort.  Although appreciative to hear it, she cannot understand what they are  laughing at. For a brief moment she looks around in confusion to find  the source but her attention is snapped back to Helvetica in moments.

"I didn't ask you for  help on definitions." Helvetica's response is a hissed burst of  aggression. She has been given the instruction to stamp out any sign of  rebellion. It is not as subtle as she hoped it would be but Minnie has  caught her off guard. Helvetica had been prepared for trouble but not  from the fragile doll from District Four. With a swift clearing of her  throat she moves onto the next question.

"Why do you want to win?"

Minnie's face scrunches  up into a comical and pondering frown. She pauses for a moment to  decipher her thoughts before earnestly revealing her answer.

"Why would I want to  lose?" Without any intention of doing so she has broken into the hearts  of the Capitol. They laugh with zeal whilst drinking in the delicate  frown of confusion on her face. Minnie hasn't the slightest clue what  they are laughing at. She only answered the question.

"Who are the biggest and smallest threats in the Games?"

"I don't think I remember who is the smallest. But Samuel and Grayson are very tall."

"That's not what I  meant..." Helvetica says this through gritted teeth. Minnie is turning  this interview into a joke. Even worse the crowd are entirely enamoured  with her. "Never mind. How far do you hope to make it?"

"Make it where? Where  are we going?" The crowd whoop and cheer as Minnie's frown deepens even  further. A man to the left of the stage has fallen into the aisle in a  fit of hysterical laughter. "Is he okay?" Minnie asks which only prompts  another roar of laughter.

"He's fine." Helvetica  is angry. Furious even. The interview has unravelled out of her control  and now the laughter is at her expense. It is intentional. She is sure  of it. No one can be that oblivious. Helvetica does not like to be made a  fool. With a cruel smirk she decides to jab a blade through Minnie's  heart. "How do you think your fiancé will cope if he watches you die?"

"Felix?" Minnie's frown  melts entirely into a beam of unhindered delight. She whispers the name  in breathy expectation. Unadulterated love gleams out of her smile. No  one in the audience can doubt it. She doesn't need to answer the  question. The Capitol has what it wants. A love story. A silence  descends on the crowd. In the distance Minnie thinks she sees someone  wipe away a tear although she can't be sure why.

"I think that will be  all," Helvetica snaps understanding that the interview is a lost cause.  The words have barely left her mouth before Minnie is darting for the  comfort of backstage.