A/N: OK here's a bit of backstory: the revolution never happened, because Katniss never volunteered for Prim, who was never reaped. That year, the girl from 12 won, and then went, with Haymitch, into the 75th games.

And, now… The Capitol is still in charge; it's the 225th games!

Mindora Gasparine was an excitable woman, becoming almost hysterical at the slightest thing.

These Hunger Games, of course, were sending her over the limit.

She loved the games, and often stayed up watching the best bits when she could. As a child, she would watch avidly, even helping her older brother to bet.

But there isn't much else to do when you have no legs from the knees down.

Mindora had been born with the disability, using a high-tech wheelchair to get around in as a child, but then had prosthetic limbs from the age of twelve. At 18, she now knew what she was doing with them, and could even do some gymnastics moves.

She was sitting on a bench a month before the reapings, reading 'Games Gossip,' her favourite magazine, specifically an article on the effects that this Quell's twist was having on the districts.

Mindora was particularly excited about the twist, just the thought of it almost making her squeal in delight. The president had announced it last week, but the original thrill had still not worn off for her.

It went as follows: both tributes from each district must have an injury or disability of fairly high degree to be reaped or allowed to volunteer.

According to 'Games Gossip,' some citizens of District one, two and four were even breaking their own limbs in order to be allowed to volunteer.

However, in the outlying districts, there had been a sudden rocket of demand for doctors and, especially in District 11 (Where, according to 'Games Gossip,' there was the highest injury rate), the suicide figures had also shot up.

Oh, Mindora would give anything to be somehow more involved in these games. She had dreams of being a tribute; she could be reaped, if she was from one of the districts.

But no, she was destined to watch, confined to the plush cushions of her velvet sofa. How unfair! The injured children of the districts got the chance to be reaped, to go and fight to the death in a terrifying arena, while she could only sit there in the lap of luxury with her avoxes and expensive foods and beautiful furniture and fine clothes. She would give up her set of (Very expensive) hot-pink contacts to switch places with those district kids.

Suddenly, a young man with jet-black hair interrupted her thoughts. His deep, dark eyes looked at the floor guiltily.

Mindora spotted a couple of other men around his age standing behind him, laughing and yelling for him to "get on with it."

"Um, so, are you a fan of the Games then?" he said eventually.

"Yes!" She replied, instantly.

"Well, um-"

He was cut off by one from the group behind him with short green hair, who stepped forward and blurted "Just ask her if she wants to come to the centre, and hurry up!" before retreating, giggling.

"Of course" Mindora cried, excitedly, not waiting for him to ask; she never did like to wait. "Oh, can I come, please?!"

"Oh go on, Genisius!" cried another boy from behind the black haired one "Let her come!"

"Ok," Genisius – the back-haired one – replied "but Oron will not be happy with me!"

"Awesome!" Mindora exclaimed "When do I start?"

"The parade!" called the green-haired one from before.

And then the young men all ran off, laughing and chatting like naughty schoolboys.

But Mindora didn't notice; she was too busy sending a message to her personal stylist for a fabulous new dress and dreaming of the games.

She was going behind the scenes!

A/N: Welcome to Never In Our Favour! This is my second attempt, sorry...

All new from chapter 4 onwards.