"To Opal" {Benson one-shot}

The sound of rain falling steadily on the window hummed through Benson’s mind as he looked at a sealed envelope on his desk. The contents had been written nearly a week ago, sealed immediately after, but the envelope had not been moved since. Benson frowned as he looked at it, stroking his unruly beard—retirement did not suit him well—his mind already knowing every word in that envelope but wishing he had the vision to see past the parchment and read the words again.


To my dearest friend—

It has been a while since I last saw you, though I admit that that is partially my fault. Since my retirement, I have further retreated from the Games scene, my knowledge coming from whatever is on my screen. I do apologize if it means I have missed you during your Victor duties, but it seemed like I needed time for myself to muse about thoughts I could not share with another.

While the nature of my job had started to sour in my mouth, I must admit that retirement is far more difficult than I had imagined. Monetarily, I will be fine for the rest of my life—it turns out that being a Gamemaker paid rather well and as I was not very young when I had submitted my resignation letter, I had enough saved to live a comfortable but simple life. It is the boredom of doing absolutely nothing that drives my mind wild. Perhaps one day I will learn to relax, but right now, all I long for is a purpose, a drive.

Perhaps I am writing to you now because I believe that you can help me find this purpose. If that is true, I would like to apologize. It is not your job, nor your obligation to give me advice. You owe me absolutely nothing. I do, however, treasure your knowledge as a friend. Please, if you get this letter, if we could just catch up, nothing would make me happier, even with the state I am in.

Your friend,
Benson Tiero


Fingers now drummed on the desk to the sound of the rain, inching closer and closer to the envelope but with hesitation holding them back. The gears in Benson’s mind continued to turn, so fast that thoughts flew around like bullets out of a gun, ricocheting on the hardness of his skull. It would not take much for him to deliver this letter; the Games would be starting soon again and the Victors had their duties. And the thought of seeing Opal did make his spirits rise, bringing some life into his shell of confusion and thought. Benson looked once more at the envelope and—