I LIVE!
so sorry I've been neglecting this account...life really took off after graduating from high school
then after two years of community college, I'm at a "real" college
I haven't gotten much time to write anymore, but this idea kept popping in my head now and then
finally got a weekend to myself so I could type it up
without further ado, here is the first chapter!
Disclaimer: I don't own MySims/MySims Kingdom...EA does
edit: changed students around (I will never be happy with my choices XP)
The bright, morning sun peered through a hotel lobby's window, winding up shining right on the face of a certain blonde-haired bellhop. The bellhop in question had fallen asleep at his post; his head was propped up by his left arm, and his other arm resting against the edge of the front desk. The slow warmth of the sun had woken the boy up, making him realize he had fallen asleep at work again.
"Good thing I'm the only one who works here, I probably would've been fired months ago," the boy mumbled to himself as he slowly walked to the boy's bathroom. Once inside, he splashed some cold water on his face, and then he glanced over his appearance: his uniform was covered in wrinkles and his hat must've fallen off during the night. His blonde hair was mussed up and he could definitely use some mouth wash. He glanced down at his watch – 9:25.
"At least the hotel doesn't open for another thirty-five minutes. Time to get myself cleaned up!" The bellhop went back out to the lobby, "borrowed" one of the room keys, and got himself ready his shift. While straightening out his red, bellhop jacket, he heard slight cooing outside the window. He opened to find Guillermo, his trusty carrier pigeon, holding an envelope in his one talon.
"What'cha got for me today, little buddy? Another bill?" he laughed to his pet. He carefully slid the envelope out of the bird's claw and bid him goodbye. The envelope was from his old high school, the Royal Academy, and it addressed to 'the class of 2002'. The bellhop slid his index finger through the small opening in the envelope and took out the letter inside:
Hi to the 'Class of '10'
I truly hope you are all keeping well.
Well, it's been 10 years since we were all at school together and, no doubt, we've all got plenty of stories to tell. To mark this 10th anniversary, I am hosting a school reunion on the evening of Thursday, November 1st, at 7:30pm inside the auditorium. Dress code for the evening is strictly formal. NO exceptions!
There will be a ball and a buffet will be provided, and we hope that all old school chums and some teachers will attend so that we can all relive those halcyon days as a Hedgehog!
In order to gain an idea of the number of people who will be attending, I'm asking everybody who wishes to come to send $20 for a ticket which will cover the cost of both the food and the entertainment for the night.
I'm sure that the night will be brilliant fun and there'll be a lot of fond reminiscing and much laughter, so I hope to see you there.
If you do want to attend, please RSVP by October 20th and include your check for $20 stating clearly who you are and how I can contact you if needed. Please also include your maiden name (if female) so I know exactly who you are.
Please also bear in mind that tickets will not be available on the evening of the event. I look forward to hearing from you soon and hopefully will be seeing you all again on November 1st.
Best wishes,
Rosalyn P. Marshall – Principal of the Royal Academy
"Wow, it's been ten years since I graduated from the Academy?! Time really does fly by…I wonder who else'll decide to show up?" the bellhop mused. He finished getting ready for his shift; he checked his watch and he still had ten minutes to go. For old time sake, he pulled out his Royal Academy yearbook from one of the drawers of the front desk.
The book itself wasn't big as his graduating class only consisted of nine students (including himself), but the many pages inside recounted all the fun times he had during his four years of school. Homecoming, pep rallies, the various and eclectic after-school clubs, school trips, sports events; all had become distant memories.
He then reached the page of the student photos: he was listed first (as the photos went in alphabetical order), next the daredevil Chaz McFreely, then Ian Anderson, Liberty, Lyndsay, the bridge-builder Stephen Albright, the cheerleader Summer, Travis the tech whiz, and the vampire-girl Yuki.
He thought of all the things the class used to do together, especially their big study parties. Their teacher/principal, Rosalyn P. Marshall, was known for giving complicated tests, so they'd always get together the night before a test and study as if their lives depended on a passing grade (and for a few students, it did).
He then thought of graduation day: the many tears shed over the thought that we would never see each other again, the exchanging of phone numbers/e-mails to keep in touch, and all the gossip over what everyone would be doing with their lives.
No one really had high expectations of the bellhop-to-be. He passed all of his classes with B's and C's, but he'd never really invested in figuring out what he wanted to do with his life. He'd never thought in a million years that he'd be a bellhop right after graduation, but no better job offers had appeared.
The bellhop thought about going versus not going for a bit, but ultimately decided on going. He pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket, got out twenty dollars in cash (he didn't have a checkbook), and wrote his response:
Dear Ms. Marshall,
Count me in!
Sincerely,
Buddy the Bellhop