Genevieve finished the last recording on a late Monday afternoon. Recordings, sadly, could not fit in a newspaper article, meaning she now had to summarize the supposed important points. Determining which parts were important and which parts were not was the main challenge. Genevieve herself deemed it all important. It was as if she was determining history. Easily cutting out the parts that would not interest an audience.

Her idea of interesting and those of the masses obviously differed. Why her boss even chose her to conduct these interviews baffled her. Her peers would ask the questions that the viewers would want to know. The chance of a lifetime to interview people she had not even heard of before, and she was sure they would ask about past lovers or conflicts with allies.

But Genevieve, of course, had a minor in history. A passion for journalism with analyzing historical figures on the side. Shame on her for asking how they felt during certain wars instead of who could make the best love. Shame on her for asking about family lives despite national conflicts instead of makeup techniques. Shame on her. Shame on poor Genevieve.

With the CD still in the television, she took the remote and forced it to go back to the start. Despite having watched the entire things two other times, one more couldn't hurt. Her own voice sounded horrid to her, but it was what she asked. The shifting of the person who an uncomfortable question appears. The way they smiled brightly when recalling a happy event. Their words of advice moved her to tears almost.

Genevieve sighed and sat back to watch. Just over a year ago, she remembered getting the call of her lifetime for the scope of a lifetime. How angry she was with getting woken up so early on her one day off. The shock and non believing when told of her new project. The story of the millennium.

Her very own interview with the nation's representatives

It was a Sunday morning, Genevieve Hanselman's only day off from her tiring work. So when her phone rang out at seven in the morning, she had a very large reasons to be upset. At first she believed it to be her alarm that she forgot to set, or perhaps one of her relatives that had no idea of time and could call whenever they pleased.

Rubbing her eyes, she took the phone that was on her nightstand and answered. Clearing her throat to show that it wasn't as groggy or as sleepy as she thought. If it was a relative, she couldn't be rude.

"Hello?" She answered, wincing at the sound. She hated mornings.

"Hey? Gen, it's Jacob. You need to come down to the office. Right now," a pause when the man heard a groan over the phone. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"Jacob, it's my only day off. Why do I have to come in? Someone better be dying." Genevieve stretched her arms and wiped off the drool that seemed to crust over her left cheek. She really needed to look into buying nose strips so she didn't wake with a puddle under her any longer. "Seriously. Why are you calling me in?"

There was a sigh on the other end of phone and a moment of muttering. 'So, Jacob isn't alone?' Genevieve almost groaned. That meant he was with the boss, Mr. Stevens. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. On her day off she would be given an assignment. 'This better ensure me a Christmas bonus…'

"I can't talk about it much right now," Jacob said when he returned to the phone. "Mr. Stevens wants you down right away. Just come as soon as you can, please?"

Genevieve rubbed her neck, knowing she couldn't say no and leave Jacob with the beast of a boss. He may eat him. "Alright. I'll be there soon enough. Let me get ready and I'll head over to the office. Okay?"

Jacob said his reply and clicked off the phone. Genevieve got out of her warm bed and began to get ready. Skipping the shower and putting on an enormous amount of deodorant and her vanilla cherry perfume to mask the smell of bed and sleep. A small braid for her hair that took little effort and whatever pantsuit she found first in her closet. She didn't think she would be meeting with any reporters or people today, so her looks was not that important to see a coworker and her already pissed off boss. What could become of a few strands of loose hair or her eyeliner not perfect.

Ten minutes later she arrived at her work. Locking her car, she made her way to the fifth floor of her work building, arriving in the elevator to Sunday workers with too perky smiles. The ladies already knew Genevieve fairly well, knowing the boss had a tendency to give her more interesting cases that actually had their own article. She had to thank her knowledge in culture and knowledge and what people enjoyed to ready.

"Mr. Stevens." Genevieve said upon arriving in his office. He was a plump man, hands twitching with the want to smoke but knowing due to new building laws, he would have to wait to make his way down to smoke his death stick. His hair was combed over in a new way, hiding the spots on his head that were starting to bald. A coffee stain on his striped shirt and crumbs of a donut around the corners of his lips. "You wanted to talk to me."

The plump man smirked and nodded. "Sit down, Genevieve. I've got an assignment for you to do."

'Well, I figured that much…' Genevieve thought to herself, sitting down in one of the hard chairs that he offered to people. "What is it?"

After a moment of searching through papers, he pulled out a stack and smiled, handing them to her. "We got the story of the century, no, the story of the milillumn in my hands," he started. "You might think this is crazy, but I had to get through like, a ton of official people just to be able to do this."

Handing over the stack, Genevieve took it and opened the paper, frowning at the first article. "So...I'm…" She had to read it over once again to make sure she wasn't missing anything. "I'm interviewing envoys from countries? Are there even envoys anymore? I thought that was more of a medieval practice, you know?"

Mr. Stevens groaned. "No." He looked as if he was trying to find the right words. "There are these...these people out there Genevieve. Something called representatives. People who are actually the countries. They...they live forever. Whatever happens to the country happens to them." He explained, watching as Genevieve's face went from surprised to confused. "It seems insane, I know. Someone from...some peace organization told me this information and I went to a couple of government officials with the information, requesting to interview these nations reps. You have no idea how willing people are to assist you when you hold things like this over their head."

Genevieve was still confused. The idea of people living forever and being countries, that sounded straight out of a children's book, not something that could happen in real life. "Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of joke?"

"No. No joke at all. This is seriously something. Look, this peace organization contacted me and wanted me to do this to...to put more awareness out there. They have this ideology that if we know that whatever we do to the countries happen to real people, and we don't imagine nations as just boarders to be crossed, we might be at a more peaceful world. It's just what they want me to do, and I'm giving you this.

"Ask questions. You'll be flown to each country and interview them. You'll get a short bio of each nation to make sure of things not to ask. I'm sure these people will not want their entire life just out there. But I need you to do this. For one, you were one of the only ones to actually pass this strict background test. That, and I know of your history minor or major or whatever. You'd be able to ask real questions. I...I want you to ask questions for the public, of course. Ask questions that will actually interest people. But we need to do whatever the hell this peace people want. They're funding it, mostly." He paused his monologue for a moment, watching Genevieve and her reaction now. "Will you take the case? Hm?"

Genevieve sighed, a slight shake of her head. Her mind was still processing what was going on. People...people could be countries? That seemed just impossible. Impossible that it could be like this.

"This isn't a joke?"

"No. So, will you take the case or should I have someone else? This is the story of a lifetime. Interviewing nations. Actually people who has lived through so much war and suffering and happiness." He smiled a bit. "Will you take the case?"

Genevieve finally knew he had to reply. But she had too many questions to make up her mind. "How is this possible? This isn't...this isn't some fantasy thing?"

Mr. Stevens shook his head. "Look. I don't know how it happens either. No idea. None. But it happened somehow and we got an interview with these people. Record it, ask questions, and be a damn reporter with this. Now...will you take the case? You can ask questions later on but I need an answer or I'll move on to the other people.

Genevieve looked down. Guess that meant she had to reply. It would be ask if she would be talking to a real history book. Getting answers to questions and figuring out what was going on. It...it was a dream. A scary dream.

"Alright. I'll take it."

Author Note: Sorry for it being so short. This is more of the prologue to everything. The first chapter will be much longer and up in...hopefully a few. I hope everyone enjoyed the story and thank you again for reading. :)