Jane, 18, thief and former gang-member

Your name is Jane. And your life is not the best, to be honest. Born in a poor part of a large town, you got in contact with criminals, and social conflicts very early. You joined a gang before you were old enough to buy beer. Being a girl in a criminal gang mostly means that you are either a psycho punk or the fuck doll of a high-ranking gang member. And if you wouldn’t be so smart, this would likely have been your fate. But it turns out, you are much smarter than the average thug.

You passed your exams with only As and Bs. Not that this means anything, since nobody wants to employ a girl from your area, no matter how good her grades are. Without great job opportunity’s you made yourself as useful as possible in your gang. And you used your knowledge and the skills of your fellow gang members to become perfect in every activity that involves brain over muscle. Lockpicking, hacking, smuggling and forging. You brought your back-alley-gang to the 21th century.

Sadly, your gang bosses were not very happy with the thought that a girl would probably take a place among them. So they decided to keep you down. They neither allowed you to fight, nor to lead. And they put gang members in charge of you that kept you under strict control. You were a useful tool. Probably a future girlfriend. But nothing more.

You spend the first night in jail at the age of 16. Far later than all your male companions, who regularly took part in selling, beatings, and in some cases even murders. But it turned out to be an opportunity rather than a punishment. The officer in charge saw your skills and grades and offered you a place in a program for juvenile delinquency. He said you look like a hopeful case. You couldn’t care less about changing your >criminal lifestyle< as it was called. But this program was a chance to get away from all the junkies, poverty, hopelessness and your misogynistic comrades. You accepted and avoided prison completely.

For the next two years you worked as a barista in a small café. The pay was poor, the owner a pervert and your roommate in the social housing was a addicted slut. Officially, you were a model case. Few complaints, neither from you nor from others, perfect attendance at consultations and a remarkable willingness to study as soon as a place would become available. But unofficially, you never stopped working as a thief. While your roommate tossed and turned in bed at night with some kind of failure, you spied on houses, shops and factories, picked locks and crept through the night. Always on the lookout for worthwhile loot that should make it easier for you to start your new life.

But then, barely a week after your 18th birthday, something quite bad happened. You were at your work in the café and endured the permanent look on your ass by your boss, as well as the flirt attempts by a customer, when suddenly five masked guys stormed into the café. Two wielded baseball bats and one had a long knife. You were shocked at first but it got worse when you realized, that these guys are members of your former gang. You memorized the gang tattoos and symbols on the clothes very well. “Get this traitorous slut!” the guy in the front barks and points with his bat at you.

You didn’t hesitate, grabbed the tip glass in front of you and threw it as hard as possible in the closest Gang members face. And before it made its impact, you jumped over the counter and ran out of the café. Good thing there were two doors. You fled down the street and quickly noticed that all five gang-members were behind you. You were not sure what they will do to you, if they get you, but according to the gang rules, leaving is treason, and treason means . They probably you before too. And so, you ran like hell.

You had no goal and only stopped when a large office building came in sight. You remember it from your daily way to work. It belongs to some kind of film studio, but what’s much more important, it had an own security service. You entered the building and stumbled in front of the secretary and a security guard. They looked at you confused while you tried to catch breath. The guard asked you a little unsure if you are here for an application. You agreed to not look like some sort of freak. And if the guard allows you this way to get away from the front door, where your pursuer should appear every moment, you thought it would be better to agree.

The guard brought you to an office and told you to wait outside for a moment. You had time to sort your thoughts. The program you are in has not enough capacity to get you another apartment. Probably a new job, but it would just be a matter of days until these assholes find you again. And the loot from your nightly raids is not enough to cover an own apartment. You need some money to disappear. But from where should you get it?

Suddenly an employee appears and tells you that you can enter. The office was big and there were posters all over the walls. Some of the shows you even knew. You were led to a desk with a young, smiling guy. A minor employee who does the uninteresting basic work for his bosses. The guard asked you if you were here for an application. Considering how young this guy is, it is most likely an application for an unpaid internship. You don’t like your current work, but you can’t afford working as an unpaid intern at the moment. You were just about to make up some kind of excuse, when the young guy suddenly asks: “So, you are here to win half a million dollars?”

This was two weeks ago. You never thought they would really pick you. You hoped for it, but from what you heard, there were several hundred people who applied for a place in this show. And everyone was much better prepared than you. But to your surprise, suddenly a letter from the studio arrived for you and told you to come to the main studio today and meet the other candidates.