Chapter III: Hi, Nice to Meet You…

Smiling, Blair took another glance at the pool of colors setting over the horizon. A beautiful blend of purples and oranges, pinks and blues painted the sky in a way that made Blair feel alive inside. The sunset never failed to thrill her, as childish as it might be, and the view from the top of the tower was the best.

     Footsteps sounded on the stairs of the tower and Blair instinctively turned to see one of the most beautiful guys in the world. He had this amazing wavy light brown hair that seemed perfectly in place even when it wasn’t gelled down and combed. His complexion was cool and flawless and underneath his long dark lashes bright green irises glowed. His mouth was kind of in a half-smile, as if he was constantly looking around to find the beauty in life. Her heart thudded as he straighten his white button down shirt.

     Blair wasn’t a believer in love at first sight, but as soon as the boy saw Blair his lips turned up in a full smile. His eyes lit up in happiness and she knew that everything was right with the world. She knew they were meant to be, no matter what, as long as he kept that lovely smile and-

     “This is your favorite place too?” the boy asked casually, keeping his beautiful gaze on Blair.

     Oh my god, he’s talking to me, Blair blinked and opened her mouth intending to say something normal like “yeah, so you like it up here too?” but instead what came out was “It’s yours?” To make matters worse, her voice had raised an octave.

     The boy laughed easily as if Blair hadn’t made a fool of herself, “Yeah. It helps me think.” He walked up next to her and leaned against the edge of the tower. He sighed deeply, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Blair wanted to be the one to pick it up for him.

     “Beautiful, isn’t it?” The boy smiled at Blair and her stomach started aching from the light tickling of butterflies. Beautiful… Blair prayed that she wasn’t blushing. “The sunset,” he finished, eyes focusing on the horizon once more, ruining the moment for Blair.

     “Yeah,” she managed to get out. Yes, normal conversation, normal, normal, normal…

     “Sometimes I feel like things will never be this beautiful again,” he sighed deeply, his green eyes closing. Blair felt like she could stare at him all day long, that she could live in that moment and never cease to get tired of the sight.

     Suddenly the boy opened his eyes and the moment faded. He plastered his smile on his face once more and turned to leave, bidding his farewell. Blair felt her heart sink and she felt the impulse to run after him and ask him if they wanted to hang out sometime so they could get to know each other a little better.

     Her hopes rose even more when he turned on his way down the stairs. “Where are my manners? I almost forgot,” he said, shaking his head and almost laughing. “It would be a great privilege to know your name.”

     Blair was disappointed but managed to choke out “Blair” in a way that didn’t sound too forced. The boy’s eyes danced as he replied, his name the most perfect Blair had ever heard.

     “Camden.”

      Beautiful.

      Groaning, Mitchell lay on the large bed in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling. He had no desire to get out of the room, even though it would be good for him to get some exercise. It was two days before the start of the school year. According to rumors, the reason that you couldn’t travel on a specific day in late August was because all of the Persky kids took all of the seats in flights. Anything about Persky was interesting to the outside world, probably because it was so selective and elite. Not like anything was special or elite about Mitchell.

     It wasn’t that Mitchell was horrible at anything, it was just the fact that he wasn’t exceptional, as would be expected from someone of his heritage. Although his parents were kind and didn’t point this out, he felt like he was failing them even more with the tons of invisible pressure they were putting on him. He wasn’t Persky material without his family name.

     The day that Mitchell received his acceptance letter to Persky, his parents had been more excited than he had been. To Mitchell it felt like they were dancing to the tune of Huzzah, my Son is Not a Complete Failure No. 348 while Mitchell wanted to lock himself in his room and refuse to leave. He hadn’t even applied to Persky! The letter came telling him of how he was a “person of interest” and how they would be “honored if he accepted”.

      (a.) Mitchell didn’t have a choice.

      (b.) He had a feeling that the letter was being sarcastic. That meaning, the school wasn’t genuinely interested in Mitchell, it most likely meant that one of the alumni or an influential figure suggested they send a Lyngley to Persky so if he succeeded they would look good.

      Ah, cue Huzzah, my Son is Not a Complete Failure No. 349. Come on Lyngley parents, your son has some common sense.

      As a result of the events above, Mitchell was still lying in his dorm room, waiting for his roommate to arrive. At first Mitchell had been dreading the arrival of his roommate, knowing the typical snootiness of Persky students. That had been followed by frustration, then anxiety, then fear that he would never come. Now Mitchell was in the ‘just get it over with already and stop torturing me life’ state of mind.

  Mitchell sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off to sleep.

                                                                                                                                   * * *

       A bit later, Mitchell’s eyes opened slowly, taking in his surroundings. The darkness of the dorm room told him that it must have been late evening. Mitchell looked down to see that he was on a bed- the one opposite from the one he had fallen asleep in- that was not normal. Above all, Mitchell noticed the sound of the shower running.

      Mitchell’s heart started thumping- call it crazy, but he had no idea if an intruder was in his room, if he had slept through someone breaking in. Childish as it was, Mitchell wanted to hide instead of finding out who the person in the shower was. Maybe I should pretend to be asleep, Mitchell thought but decided against it. He needed to be brave. His heart thumped in his ears, more steady than the panicked thoughts that ran through his head as he slid off the edge of the bed and crept towards the bathroom.

      If there was anything that Mitchell had learned from any games, it would be that you shouldn’t go facing any enemy without some form of weapon. He picked up a lamp from one of the nightstands and moved silently towards the bathroom door.

      Easing the door open, he crept through the doorway of the bathroom and looked at the spacious marble bathroom. The shower, located opposite the large round bathtub, clearly had someone in it. The running water, as well the the thumping of feet, were a tell.  Mitchell swallowed hard, stood up straight and commanded in the strongest voice he could muster, “Who is in here?”

     The person in the shower didn’t respond, instead they continued to shower. Mitchell was about ready to call the authorities- who would move him to another bed and shower in his room?

     Mitchell had no idea what to do. He didn’t want to let a possible criminal come out of the shower and be prepared to strike, but he wasn’t big on catching them off guard in the shower. Mitchell stood firmly on the marble floor, prepared to strike whenever the intruder might attack.

      The shower water turned off and Mitchell’s heart nearly stopped. A few spare drops of water fell to the floor of the shower in melodious plops. Suddenly, a pale hand reached for a towel and Mitchell was about ready to charge when the shower curtain was pulled to the side, revealing a very startled boy all wrapped up in a towel.

      If you asked Mitchell who was more startled, the answer would have been unclear. Both boys screamed in perfect harmony as Mitchell nearly tripped sliding out of the bathroom, and the boy, shrieking, pulled the shower curtain back.

      Mitchell caught his breath before responding to the multiple screams of  “what are you doing?!” and slowly crept back into the bathroom, getting a better look at the person in the shower.

      “I could ask you the same thing. Who are you?” Mitchell panted. The boy wasn’t especially big and didn’t look like the kind who would go around breaking into people’s dorm rooms. His pale complexion didn’t have so much as a freckle in sight and resembled porcelain, his caramel-colored hair was cut straight in multiple layers, perfect and neat even when it was wet. His big, dark blue eyes were wide in shock, his mouth hanging wide open.

       “Who-,” he sputtered and started scowling, “I’m Prince Noah!”

       Mitchell’s expression at the moment was the epitome of confusion.

       “In line to the throne? Do you not know anything about history or pop culture? At all?” Noah was fuming, his mouth twisted, although on the inside he wasn’t really that mad, more incredulous. How could anybody not who he was?

       “Uh, okay, Noah, are you my roommate?” Mitchell asked, hoping to get past the topic due to the fact that he was feeling dumber and dumber by the minute. Perhaps it was just the condescending aura that the prince gave off.

Noah just sighed, as if he were done being annoyed and that Mitchell wasn’t worth being mad over, and stormed out of the bathroom muttering about how he should be addressed with more respect. Not that Mitchell knew that- he wasn’t exactly fluent in French.

        Last day before school starts, Lara thought, looking around at the now-crowded campus. Lara had never been a fan of crowds. Then again, she’d never been a fan of many people. She was small and quiet, used to being alone because her parents were… well, her father was a medical doctor who worked with famed figures finding cures to fatal diseases. Unfortunately, her mother, although she was around a lot, wasn’t exactly what you called supportive. She was a supermodel, European with exotic features. She always was more concerned about looking better than any other family. She was always fussy about how short Lara was, how dark her hair was, how she hadn’t inherited any of her gorgeousness. Lara was so much more like her father, quiet, reserved and genius.

      Quite frankly, Lara was relieved when her parents got divorced. Their marriage was dysfunctional anyway.

      Her parents remarried, her mother to some famous actor from the eighties, and her father to… well, of course, another model. She was tall and skinny, although Lara thought she resembled a Barbie doll more than anything else. She alternated between styles constantly: some days she would be sporting sleek platinum blonde hair, other days silky golden waves. She always seemed to have matching outfits that were so perfectly made for each occasion. She wore a sailor outfit on a cruise and these large fluffy coats for fancy dinners and glittering diamonds. She was closer to Lara’s age than her father’s. She wasn’t mean, but she was constantly giggling and draping herself on her father’s arm. But if her father was happy, Lara was okay. It wasn’t like she had to spend all of her time with her.

     Lara decided to take a stroll and spotted familiar faces: Sean Omar, the other vice-president of the school was sporting his usual suit and tie. Lara had to smile at the fact he was already campaigning against Scarlette Ashworth. Like that would ever happen- Scarlette won everything.

      Lara walked past some cheerleaders gathering, hugging enthusiastically as Bridget Maddox whooped and cheered. One of the Lundun triplets, Paris, was hugging her as her sisters, Madrid and Rome set off to their own respective hobbies’ hangouts.

     Lara moved into the large cafeteria, or rather, dining room, unaware that she was about to start the story of a lifetime.

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A Summary of Why I Suck

Hello anybody who bothered to read this (I hope you have better things to do… or not because that means more views for me 😉 )! I suck because I haven’t done a post in forever, not ones worth reading because I am lazy.

This post is short because I don’t suck that much.

R.I.P. Any hope in modesty.

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“It’s a beautiful day. Now watch some idiot go and ruin it.”

– Mysterious Person on Internet

“It’s a beautif…

“I’m not quiet, I’m plotting.”

– Anon on the Internet

“I’m not quiet,…

“There are no stupid questions, just stupid people.”

– Someone random on the internet

“There are no s…

“And if we started at zero, then how did things change? It seems like just yesterday we were the same.”

– Hawk Nelson, Zero

Zero

How to Get Inspired: Dreams

Greetings my underlings!

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned about writing, it’s that you can suddenly get inspired to write in the most random places. For example, one time I was in Paris and my sister was telling me a detailed description of her dream. Yeah. Lucky her, if you’re like me you forget what it was about by the time you get downstairs. It was one of the most interesting dreams I’ve ever heard about. I think it was about how she and her friends were jamming at a dance when suddenly they had to flee and get onto a school bus to escape from danger. They were then taken to a fortress with a warrior princess who tells them to start “training”. They are then put in suits and are supposed to fight multiple creatures and when they defeat them, they “level up”. Apparently the technology malfunctioned because a level three hundred and-something monster came and battled my sister. The rest is blurry, I just remember there was a random girl who joined them and then they go back to the dance and it turns out that the new girl was the evil one.

Big surprise. In her defense, this was a very long time ago. It’s better than basing them off my own dreams. I either don’t remember them, they’re really terrifying (most of the time), or they make so little sense it’s impossible to base anything off of them. Not to mention the P.O.V. is so confusing. At first I’m the person interacting in my dream, the character. And then halfway through I seem to change my mind and I’m watching a random character taking my place. I think I’ll take my sister’s dreams, thank you very much.

Since we’re on the topic of dreams, did you know that it’s possible to control every single part of your dream if you train yourself? I would want to do that, but then I’m afraid of losing all of the confusion, all of the randomness. Also, did you know that if you say “dream” in your dreams you wake up? I tried it. It worked. I guess that it depends on if you know you’re dreaming, like me, and how much control you have.

Anyway, the sheer creativity of your subconscious mind can help you fashion something amazing. Just want you guys to know that.

Bonsoir.

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Hello, Nice to Meet You Again

Oh, hello! I haven’t seen you guys in a while because I suck. Not that it matters much anyway… I’m half certain that the few people who had any interest in my sad attempt at writing have given up completely. But I’ve been really busy, what with traveling back home over the pacific ocean to the glorious island of Isla Formosa. And then school started. However old you think I am, I probably younger… much younger. Anyway, I have recently decided to start writing even though I have been just stuck there, wondering what should happen next? Instead of actually working, I’ve been listening to glorified ballads on repeat (guilty pleasure alert) and trying to convince myself that I’m a certified swagger daddy. It hasn’t been working. So… what else to say? I’m sure that you’re tired of me wallowing in my self-pity by now and my attempts to be funny.

JUUPPPITTTERRRRR ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XI5nBUidKqo, 0:33, sorry, I can’t find out how to get my links to work. Best six seconds of my life.)

Mia

(You: Like, does she think she’s funny?)

Yeah. I do.

R.I.P. Fake modesty

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Awkward Writing…

I have just decided to suddenly start getting more into actually planning my story instead of just making it up as I go along, and guess what? I still have an unnamed girl character, and I changed one of my other character’s names. I also don’t have any personality traits for some people like Lara. I don’t know what I want to do. So it would help me a lot if you guys did… it’s that moment when I’m supposed to hear those cricket sounds and otherwise dead silence, isn’t it? You guys are really quiet….

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Chapter II: The Year of High Expectations

Sorry for not writing in a long time, but I thought I should give you a break from my non-stop posting. So, you guys seem to like it more when I just talk about my writing, because that’s what you came here for! So, I started naming my chapters, and here is the next one!

                Camden Waleson smiled as he neared the campus of Persky. Another year, a new start, this time as a sophomore. Camden was something of a local celebrity at Persky as the president of the charity clubs and the vice-president of the student council. Camden’s family, especially his stepfather always swelled in pride whenever Camden’s name came up in conversation, despite how different his attitude was towards his family. He was the all-around good guy and teenage heartthrob, he got good grades and he was well-known, what more could a father want from his son? Most of all, he couldn’t wait to see Scarlette again.

                 Scarlette Ashworth was the epitome of near-perfection, and Camden’s girlfriend- even though Camden was exceptional, he didn’t shine as brightly next to her. She was the top student in every class, the only girl who beat him to the president position. She was different from the giggly girls in the hallway and she had a brain- Camden could respect her for that. Sometimes people asked him how he put up with her and were impressed when he said they were dating. “You can keep up with her man? Good for you!” Camden didn’t mind it… much.

                  This year is a new year. A year to change things, a year to grow,  Camden decided as the driver pulled up next to the large entrance of his school. Camden climbed out of the backseat and his chauffeur got his luggage out of the trunk, much to Camden’s annoyance.

                  “You don’t have to do every single little thing for me, it’s not enjoyable for either of us Damian,” Camden told him, reaching for his suitcases. Damian pulled them out of his reach quickly with ease, being the tall, athletic man he was.

                    “I take commands from your stepfather. Do you think you’ll be set for the year?” Damian’s low, intimidating rumble would have scared most of the students at Persky, but Camden responded that he would be fine and thanked Damian. Damian nodded and even gave Camden a rare smile and awkward handshake as a goodbye.

                    Camden turned to find his large black heap of luggage sitting there at the foot of the outside steps of his school. Slowly smiling, Camden mentally thanked Damian and pulled it up the steps. In two days, the new school year would start.  A new year, a year to change. Camden was ready for it.

                     “-you and I will be young forever-” Katy Perry’s voice blared from Blair’s cell phone, interrupting the relative quiet of her dorm room. Blair groaned as she hit the snooze button on her phone with a little more force than she intended to. The phone slid towards the edge of Blair’s nightstand. “No!” Blair shrieked, coming out of her sleepy trance, and hit her ribs hard again the nightstand’s edge as she grabbed her phone just in time.

                      Blair was almost sobbing in relief when she heard the sound of a key turning in her dorm room’s lock. Blair’s eyes widened in horror as she ran into her dorm bathroom (see what I mean when I say rich kids? They don’t have to share one bathroom down the hall) and hoped that she wouldn’t be seen in her pajamas. Once she realized how stupid hiding there was, the door opened and a girl’s high-pitched voice called “Hello? Is there anybody here?”

                       Blair put on her best friendly smile, hoped her hair wasn’t messy, hoped her pajamas weren’t wrinkled and made her way out the bathroom doors. She was almost out when she tripped and grabbed the nearest thing she could find to hold herself up (which happened to be the hairdryer). Blair’s surprised shriek and the loud blast of noise from the hairdryer attracted the girl’s attention. She walked over to the bathroom entrance to find a girl  with tangled platinum blonde hair in a ponytail on the ground, struggling to get up. The girl didn’t even looked surprised at the scene, she simply walked over and turned off the wailing hairdryer.

                       Blair slowly pushed herself up, trying to ignore the pain in her knees and brushed herself off. “Thanks,” she said, hoping that the awkward situation would be forgotten. She took a look at her savior, taking in her small stature, big brown eyes and short black bob. The two of them walked out of the bathroom.

                       Blair tried for a smile again, but the small girl just asked “Are you my roommate, Blair Henle?” Suddenly, Blair’s alarm that she set for when she would actually wake up ten minutes later started playing ‘Teenage Dream’ at top volume level.

                       Curse Miss Rechard. Blair cringed but kept her smile, “Yup.”

                       Lara Elion stood there for what seemed like eternity with Katy Perry playing the entire time. Finally, she just blinked, her face clear of emotion. “Oh.”

                               Kill me.

                        Blair needed an excuse to get out of the dorm. School started in two days, she figured she should get to know the campus to avoid being lost later. After getting dressed in an old t-shirt with a band name on it and some jeans (nobody was there yet) she set out. The school at nine in the morning was strangely empty and peaceful. More people would be arriving that afternoon but Blair was determined to get around before it got crowded.

                       Blair walked around the fountain in the beautiful gardens, the remote stone arches on the other side of the campus near a forest. There was an amphitheater in a meadow and a large lake. Long tree-lined paths and courtyards dotted the entire campus. dBlair thought that Persky was more like a company that owned a city instead of a school because it owned so many landmarks. But by far, Blair’s favorite was the top of one of the towers. The panoramic view of the land around the campus, a variety of green fields dotted with colorful flowers, orchards with cherry wood benches. Blair felt like she was the only one in the world up there, looking at the world in a new way. The scenery made Blair think of home, with her father and her mother in their grand estate. Blair knew she wasn’t among the most aristocratic family members that attended Persky- in fact, she was quite far. Instead of Blair’s family coming from a long line of people with old family money or being a royal her father made his own company, one that Blair, as the only child of Gordon Henle, would take over.

                       People found it odd that Blair was her father’s heir- if they had a daughter, why wouldn’t they try for a son? One day when Blair was young, she ran to her father and asked him why that was. Her father had sat there in his grand office with glass walls and wall-to-wall bookshelves, smoking a cigar in his desk when he said the wisest words Blair had ever heard:

                      “Ha! This is the twenty-first century. I don’t need a child of a certain gender to take over! It doesn’t matter if I had a daughter or a son, because I believe that any child of mine will be able to handle themselves, it’s not genetically possible that I would have an idiot as a child. Listen Blair, just ignore what they say and work twice as hard, eh?”

                      That was the day that Blair realized how many people were counting on her to fail, and she vowed to see to her success and work twice as hard. She had come to Persky for the rest of her high school education to see that goal through once and for all.

Scarlette was not happy. No, she was not happy at all. She had planned to get to Persky on the same day as Camden but her flight had been cancelled.

                          Cancelled.

                           So she had one of her father’s men drive her two hours to the airport only to find that she came for nothing. Scarlette had a feeling (and her hunches were always right- Scarlette was just that way) that there was something wrong with the engine. Scarlette usually kept up with the records of how many crashes had been recorded for each airline to find the safest and most reliable one, but since today was the day that most students arrived at Persky all the seats had been taken for the flight belonging to the safest airline. Scarlette had planned ahead of time and had phoned the people at the second-safest airline to see if she could catch a seat. And of course, the airline knowing of Scarlette and her reputation, not to mention her family line, said “Of course!”

                           But here she was. And Scarlette was ballistic- Ashworths did not settle for mediocrity. It was what she had been taught since she could walk, or rather, strut in a way that said “Back off, this room is mine.” But her confidence was well-deserved, and as arrogant as Scarlette seemed, everyone knew that she really was that great.

                             If I was part of the crew, this flight would be on its way to D.C., it’s not hard to check your airplane, Scarlette thought bitterly, mentally pulling up a diagram of an engine. All of this was her older brother’s fault. Isaac decided that he needed to see the new art gallery opening in Paris, and meet up with one of his old girlfriends, Madeline. Scarlette personally thought that she was low-class and horrid, and she didn’t even care that she was girlfriend number three hundred sixty- two… of the ones Isaac was currently in a relationship in. Scarlette felt like she had to work twice as hard to prove herself to her father, being the younger child and being a girl, and despite Scarlette being everything a father could want in a child and more. He’d handed over the private plane to his son and successor.

                           Scarlette had decided she needed to step up her game even more the get her father to notice her. This year was going to be different. She had her amazing, talented boyfriend, was goint to be the president of the student council as a sophomore (an extremely impressive feat), she was an amazing athlete and musician, and she was acing her AP classes. But she needed to improve and fast if she wanted to succeed and be looked up to as a working woman.

                            It would need to happen this year, for the sake of her dying relationship with her father.

                            Lara didn’t exactly have the best luck when it came to roommates. That morning, after a long flight (Lara was touring around Russia for the summer), she had gotten her roommate assignments and key early so she was looking forward to getting in the room and collapsing in her bed. But fate had other plans for her, and Lara was a very superstitious person so she wondered what she had done wrong when she heard the worst song ever blasting through the door, if that was even possible.

                              She opened the door, dreading whoever would greet her on the other side. As soon as she saw the large room with two large beds on either side of the room with two nightstands and lamps, a shelf and a desk, Lara immediately noticed that one side of the room, the one closer to the large window had an unmade bed. “Hello? Is anybody here?” she had asked and she heard a girl cry out and the loud screaming of a hairdryer and there was a loud thump. She had made her way into the large marble bathroom where she saw a girl in a rumpled tank top and sweatpants with her hair in the messiest ponytail ever on the floor.

                              The girl was stereotypical Persky: pretty, maybe a bit ditsy and clumsy, blonde, and probably filthy rich. When Lara turned off the hairdryer, she had seemed nice enough and when the loud music started making Lara’s ears want to die she had been embarrassed and apologetic but Lara still had the feeling she was in for a heck of a year.

                                Her beliefs had been proven true.

A.N.  Alright, I know you guys probably hate author’s notes, but I have to say, I had no plan and I had no idea for how this would turn out. I was going to make Blair the most annoying, whiny and unlikeable characters, but as soon I started writing, I made her more and more like me instead of the original plan. I also put a lot of me into Scarlette, and in my mind she was this super-cool boss, but I see she’s kind of arrogant and uptight and I will understand if you dislike her. It’s interesting to compare Blair and Scarlette. Also, I like Damian so much, and he didn’t even exist originally, nor did Isaac. Hang on tight guys and wait for chapter three!

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