Tag Archives: writing

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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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 I: Welcome to Persky

Alright, so I took down my intro because the about was… more important? I don’t know… So here is the first chapter (or the first part of the first chapter of a story) and I hope you like it, if anyone sees it… make suggestions? Recommendations for how the story should go ( I really didn’t plan at all. I do have characters though! Yay! Okay, to the point!)

 

                    Blair Henle pushed through the large wooden double doors, grunting as she did so. Her bright blue suitcase was firmly planted in her left hand as she attempted to open the heavy doors with her right. The challenges of Persky Academy: getting through the doors Blair thought glumly, if only one of Father’s bodyguards were here- Blair quickly shook off the thought. The last thing she needed was for the people to think that she was one of the spoiled rich girls that hadn’t learned to do anything herself. Blair expected to grow in high school to be able to get the education she would need for her future work in her father’s line of business. The last thing she needed was to be labeled as one of Persky’s whiny aristocrats. No, she needed to prove to herself that she was above stereotypes, above the norm.

                   Silly high school dramas- who am I going to be? Uhh… it’s all so annoying, isn’t it? Blair mentally groaned as she stumbled into the lobby of her new school for the next three years as one of Persky’s new sophomores. The lobby’s view was enough to take anyone’s breath away- the polished marble floors gleamed and reflected the high, graceful arches of the ceiling with gold patterns inlaid and polished statues from the second floor level leaning in. In the center of the large circular room a white fountain spurted streams of water from its sides. Around the circular lobby there were multiple hallways that branched off and lush carpeted spiral staircases.

                  Blair stopped abruptly in the entrance and stopped to admire the view, turning in a small circle. A small smile lit up her face, wonder in her light brown eyes. Blair had seen mansions and impressive structures but she had never seen anything like… well this.

                  A voice cut through Blair’s moment of quiet, one as sharp and abrasive as a chain saw, “Hey- ponytail!” Blair turned to see a guy, around seventeen  with the most devious grin in the world and mischievous grey-green eyes. His strawberry-blond hair was spiked and mussed around and he wore a loose black t-shirt. Oh, he’s the kid that’s always doing stupid stunts and never gets in trouble, even though everybody knows he’s the one who did it, isn’t he? Blair thought with a mental eye-roll. His whole appearance screamed ‘trouble’- it was almost as if he was trying too hard. “Whatcha doing standing in the middle of the lobby, blocking everyone else from getting in?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked, stuffing his small hands into the pockets of his dark skinny jeans.  Blocking everyone from- practically nobody’s here yet! It’s three days before the start of the school year and most of the students arrive tomorrow!

                  “My apologies,” Blair gritted her teeth, trying to shove the less-than-pleasant words down her throat. “But I wasn’t aware that I was blocking anyone, much less a  jerk who expects people to move by insulting them.”

                   The boy’s eyes glinted with amusement that made Blair think he was younger than she initially thought he was- around her age. He started cackling in such an exaggerated way that made Blair wonder if he was serious. “Well, you’re better than half of the other pretty, spoiled rich girls that come here. You actually can talk, blondie!’

                    Pretty? Blair didn’t know how to respond. “Uh, thanks?” Maybe? 

                    “Anyway, name’s Jeremy D’Armentieres. I guess I’ll see you around here this year… unless, of course, you don’t want me to,” he said with a  wink. Jeremy grinned and sauntered away, leaving Blair in the lobby alone, at least for the time being before everyone else arrived.

                    Blair tightened her light blonde ponytail, smoothed down her neat blouse and mentally braced herself to go to one of the administration offices to find out where she would be staying for the next school year.

                      Mitchell had groaned when his parents had insisted that he attend Persky, the school that harbored students who were the epitome of perfection, grace and high-status, all of the things that Mitchell’s parents wanted him to be, even though he just wasn’t.

                       “Lyngleys are a long line of important, wealthy people,” his father had said, “and you should be grateful that you have the opportunity to go to one of the best schools in the world.” So, Mitchell had to say goodbye to all of his friends and his comfortable life in Southern California to move across the country to the east coast to go to high school for the next three years. He had no idea what to expect and wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of making new friends and having to start over.

                        As soon as he got out of the cab he took a moment to admire the tall marble pillars and the steps outside of Persky- not his scene but it wasn’t too bad for a school. He held his two large suitcases in his hands and made his way to the large doors of the school. He threw them open with ease and gaped at the majestic view of the lobby, just as stunned as every other new student. As soon as he got over the astounding view he sighed and thought about how much his old gaming buddies and jock friends would love to stay here. Mitchell straightened his back, just like his father told him: “Stand like a man!”

                      With his back straight, Mitchell headed into the building and the next chapter of his life.

                        “I’m sorry, Miss… what was it again?”

                        “Henle,” Blair replied, feeling a more than a little frustrated with the young secretary, Miss Rechard. Blair had spent about an hour wandering around the campus (apparently there were multiple student offices for each grade, and found herself in the boy’s dorm,  not to mention the school was as large as a university campus). She was about ready to pass out in the middle of the infuriatingly beautiful and clean floors of the school.

                         “Henle, Henle! Of course!” Miss Rechard replied, tossing her dyed blonde hair before opening one of the many cabinets below her desk and shuffling through loads of files, all while humming a medley of Katy Perry songs. Blair half- expected her to suddenly say “Henle? Like Gordon Henle, the legendary trader and owner of his own multi-million company?” but Blair shook off the thought. Miss Rechard wasn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box.

                          Her mind is probably filled with life-threatening questions like if the American Idol tour will come to New York so she can gush about all of the male contestants Blair thought darkly, while tapping her foot impatiently, finding it in time with Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream”.

                           “Ah, Henle! Henle, Henle, Henle, here it is!” Miss Rechard exclaimed, pulling out a thin file and opening it, taking out a slip of paper. Blair took it, reluctantly thanked Miss Rechard and stepped out of the office. Blair glanced at the thin slip of paper in her hand:

        Room 274

     Lara Elion


                             Hoping for the best, expecting the worst, Blair set off to find Room 274.

Haha, okay. So I know it’s hard to tell where this is going but the story is coming in bits and pieces. I can’t take Jeremy seriously, that little devilish hilarious guy. But what do we know about Mitchell? Or the rest of the un-introduced characters? And who is this Lara character? Dun, dun, dun… so, I also didn’t really take the time to proofread so… yeah. Give suggestions or drop it completely?

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