The Bad boy, Dylan McKay
Dylan wrote:
Beautiful women are like life
And life is much like beautiful women
It loves, it cares, it tests, and wines
It fights, and beats and it's happening all the time
You don't want it to go but you want it stay
Hoping that it would eventually shape,
Into what you want, your perfect fantasy
Taking away what you don't want to see
But when it fails to do so and loses its worth
And all that's left is just you; definition hurt
I want to kill it, end it at the drop of a dime
Leave it, even if it's the only thing that's mine
Once she leaves there goes the life
There goes the sun giving way to the night
And all that's left are visions and bad dreams
Mom leaving before I was thirteen
Living and drinking on my own since fifteen
Dad incarcerated by the age of seventeen
My wife Antonia's bloody crime scene
My fiancé's Brenda's blood stained jeans
Dad dead and I must have been eighteen
You see because…
Beautiful women are like life
And life is much like beautiful women
It loves, it cares, it tests, and wines
It fights, and beats and sadly it's happening all the time
-Dylan McKay
I use to be the mean girl, Valerie Malone
An elite team of FBI agents mobilized in front of the culprit's home. Their leader, Detective Malone commanded that they go around the back and wait for her signal. The two swat members in front broke down the door with ease allowing the rest of the crew to spill into the house. She shouted "FBI, FBI" startling the criminal cradling the poor defenseless little girl. Edwardo's eyes shifted trying to find a way out of his house but his body was forced to the ground before he could make a move.
Valerie then handcuffed his risk together and then escorted him out the door into the police car. It had been three months since the little girl was taken, finally she could rest peacefully knowing that the world-renowned rapist would be behind bars. She went back to the station to put away her weaponry when one of their profilers, Dr. Lyndon Humphry, snuck up from behind.
"Hey Val, did we catch him?"
The good doctor had rushed all the way across town to catch her before she left.
While he was talking, she was still putting away her belongings.
"We got him and we couldn't have done it without your help so thank you."
"So, are you now free to go out on a date?" He asked knowing that she had no more excuses left to give. Valerie had fed him every lie in the book hoping that he would move on to a girl who was smoother around the edges, more refined, more safe. She couldn't be with anyone now that she had come to terms with what she had done.
I was the Funny guy, Steve Sanders
The teacher of the tenth-grade class had left Mr. Sanders in her classroom. The students' instructor had invited him there to talk about business and the real world and now that she had stepped out he intended on doing just that. The kids stared at him in silence, his sharp blue eyes slit through the ones who were feeble and weak. To the students' surprise he pulled out a cigar from his coat jacket and began smoking.
"If you don't mind." Steve said wryly, as if he needed permission from a bunch of sophomores.
Right when the smoke settled in, a loud clank was heard from the lockers as two boys laughed on the other side of the wall
When the door swung open a freckled kid busted in. "Good morning Mrs.-" Then he saw the man who wasn't his teacher ominously peering at him in disgust.
"How dare you disturb my presentation?" That sentence was all it took, and the joy and happiness instantly evaporated. Steve picked at his collar, the one with the hole pierced in it. "How did you even get into this school?" Steve knew the kids mother and father. In fact, when the boy's dad fell on hard times he came to Steve who immediately turned him away. "Mom and dad are obviously still living out in the minivan I see." The boy started to tear up. "Pathetic, with any luck you'll be just like him. Sit down."
The boy took his seat, his eyes searing red. A classmate from behind whispered in his ear, "Who is this guy?"
The boy woefully answered, "My uncle."
Andrea Zuckerman: If I wasn't such a nerd
"Dear Diary." Andrea wrote in her old fashion note book. "Hannah ran away from home again. I just came back from riding up the streets like a maniac looking for her. Yes, I know she's like an adult, but every time she storms out I feel as though I might never see her again. The reason for her grand escape? She saw me and her father fighting again, the only difference from the norm is her younger siblings, Katie and Christopher, caught us. She despises us already, the last thing she wants is for her brother and sister to get involved. I don't want a divorce. I can't get a divorce. I mean, Jesse will love me again, he'll leave the bar and those strippers eventually and he'll see that he needs a wife, right? I've given so much for this family, like a seed I've buried it and given lots of water and love, I just don't know why it hasn't bloomed into something beautiful. Excuse my plant analogy. Yesterday, I looked in the mirror, I mean really looked in the mirror, for the first time in weeks. Bags under my eyes and sweat dripping from my face, yes it was the nerd Andrea Zuckerman, but, she didn't like what she saw. I've never been the diva, I've never been the model, or the trendy girl, yet I've never been so repulsed at my reflection. Tell me, what's changed?"
Everybody's favorite girl, Kelly Taylor
There's been four husbands, fifteen boyfriends and twice as many one night stands. There's been magazine upon magazine with her perfectly pale face plastered on the cover. There were parties and gatherings nearly every night in her home that had become the highlight of New York. Then for an hour at the end of the week she would sit down and talk to her son, Joshua Taylor. He was a bright eighteen-year-old boy who had been living with her sister Erin for the past year for reasons he had yet to figure out. Kelly Taylor hugged her son and she made sure to hug him tight in fear that he would come to hate her in the future. She was aware that he was coming of age, he didn't verbally say the questions that were weighing on his mind but she sensed that he was thinking of them. Erin had told her of the story about how his school had an assembly honoring the fathers one weekend. Her sister had told her about the pain that he wore unknowingly on his face not being able to congregate with the students who had dads. What he didn't know was that his mom knew his father and the lies she had planted in him from a toddler about dad not wanting to be in his life were fibs to keep him from finding out the truth.
The one who seemed to be Perfect, Brandon Walsh
For those of you who don't know me my name is Brandon Timothy Walsh, or should I say President Brandon Walsh. I was elected two years ago, as the leader of the free world and hadn't looked back since. It was on one Sunday afternoon in the middle of August that I was marveling at the amazing spectacle, which was my life and I saw that it was a perfect depiction of a coming of age story; one that would most likely be an academy award winning film someday. Let's start from the beginning shall we, born and raised in Minnesota I was taken out of the comforts of my small circle when my dad uprooted our family and we moved to Beverly Hills, California. I went from living amongst simple folk to having friends who were acquainted with celebrities and millionaires. All and all, I lived in the sunny state for a sum of eight years, a short amount of a time in the span of life but it was those years that broaden my horizon. Three lessons that I took from that place was that you could have it all, lose it all and that no man should be trusted.
I absolutely despised Beverly Hills.
I had felt that way for a while, and I had my reasons. Those reasons all of sudden started to shift when I received a letter from the mayor of my once hometown. At first I rejected his invitation, after no response he then proceeded to send me another with the same content and I threw that one in the trash as well. I said to myself, 'there is no way in hell that Brandon Walsh is going back to the Hills.'
'Why did I need to be there?' I asked. I had a wife, the first lady, who could set an iceberg on fire. If that's even a thing. My two good looking sons, ha ha, they stole that from their dad. I had servants that tended to my every need. I had a beautiful wife and two sons. Right… I said that already. Anyways, I was what most considered a close to perfect human being. I was above whatever juncture the mayor could throw.
Then the next day the mayor called, he babbled on and on about how we should come together laddidadadada… and eventually I bleeped his voice out. I had policies to look over, and I was tussling with congress already, so again I said 'there is no way in hell that Brandon Walsh is going back to the Hills.'
I believe it was the day after I attended a breakfast with the highest scoring students in the country. Being there brought me back. One kid asked me, how was my high school and college years? A typical question that could have been answered easily yet I stumbled on my words because a floodgate of unwanted memories drowned my thoughts. I immediately was in the classroom watching myself joking about a hot girl with the playful and high spirited Steve Sanders. I recalled staying up till two in the morning writing a column for the paper with the insightfully brilliant Andrea Zuckerman. I could nearly smell the fresh salty air after going out for a surf with the mischievous Dylan McKay. I saw myself dancing on the floor with the prominently beautiful, Kelly Taylor. But then the kid didn't just mention high school, he mentioned college. And when I thought of college, I remembered it as the years I was bunking with the hottest most complex girl in Valerie Malone. In an instant I was filled with joy, I was home. Then I remembered who we were now, and that's when I said, 'there is no way in hell that Brandon Walsh is going back to the Hills.'
Later, that night, my wife and I were engaging in one of our daily arguments. I believe it had something to do with our eldest son sneaking out to a party. That confrontation ended with her throwing her glass at the wall as I high tailed it outta there. I fell asleep in the oval office and woke up in my old home in Minnesota. My mom was in the kitchen, and my dad was in the backyard blasting his Rolling Stones records. I was so full of glee, I didn't know where to start. When I heard mom scrubbing the dishes I figured I'd start with her. I swung my arms around her and when I pulled away I could see she was upset, I didn't know why. She then told me to go to my room where I ran into a person that I hadn't seen in a while. It was Brenda. She was crying over a cracked photo and when I looked over I saw it was a picture of us split in two. I awoke gasping for air. For some strange reason, I couldn't keep my composure, I had already begun to panic, my perfect life all of sudden wasn't so perfect, and why? Because there was no Brenda. My friends, my family, my everything imploded when my twin sister died and at the time I refused to admit it.
When I collected, myself I saw that there was a letter on my desk, want to guess who it was from? Exactly, the mayor. I read it for the third time. Dylan McKay, Valerie Malone, Steve Sanders, Andrea Zuckerman, and Kelly Taylor would also be attendees at this party. Thinking back on my nightmare, I said, 'the hell Brandon Walsh is going back to the Hills.'
I originally had only one intention in mind and that was to prove to my dead sister, my dead mother, my dead father and most importantly to myself that I didn't need anybody. I wanted to believe again that I oversaw my own fate and could make my own miracles. Little did I know the madness that was awaiting me as soon as I got there. So, I beg of you to join me, in better words join us as I narrate the experience, the experience of when we set foot again on the corner of 90210.