Disclaimer: None of this stuffs is mine. Well actually...that's a lie. See, I wrote this, but I didn't write the Princess Diaries. I mean, this is supposed to be a Princess Diaries book, but it's not, cause I'm not Meg Cabot. So all these characters? These are hers. Not mine. Hers. Not mine. Hers. How I wish it was the other way around so I could have a movie made about my writings that really has nothing to do with my writings...
Author's Notes: Umm...ok...A few notes about me. My name is Luna, and I rarely capitalize. I'm trying really hard for the sake of this story, but I might just...skip by accident. Ok. I have absolutely no idea where this story is going, but I wanted to write a fanfic on the Princess Diaries, because I didn't want to write one on Harry Potter. And with this, it's almost like your own journal (if you were the princess of Genovia with an enemy named Lana Wienberger and an extremely hott boyfriend named Michael and a limo and a penthouse and a strange gramma and stuffs). Concerning the story: I kinda skipped through the first trip to Genovia, but there will be little references to it here and there. I just thought it would be too boring and I would lose reader and people wouldn't want to give me hits on my story, they'd want to give me hits on my face. Two: I'm upset because I can't make lists, according to ff.n. Mia constantly makes list, which, I admit can be annoying, but that's how she writes. So I'll see what I can do to get around this...Number three: this story rated PG13 for cursing (oOo! a-word!), un-capitalized letters, and mean grammas that can be nice. And French. Pardon my French.
The Princess Diaries, Fanfiction Volume I
Princess in the Clouds
Sunday, December 30, 10:35 am
Honestly, Genovia is nice. I mean, Grandmère is always telling my about the white sand beaches, the tourism rate updates. But I always forget that Genovia isn't as beautiful as home.
I guess Fat Louie missed me. Either that, or Mom and Mr. Gianini didn't feed him enough, because the minute he heard the key turning in the lock, he shot into the kitchen (well, for Fat Louie it's shooting, to the rest of us it's waddling in a hurry) and jumped up on the table next to where I was standing and sniffed me. I put my bags and my keys on the table and picked him up. This was difficult. And he stayed there for a few seconds until he noticed I put my keys down, and he proceeded to jump back onto the table and take them to the bathroom to hide them behind the toilet. I groaned. It would be a tricky process to get them back. I'd have to do it while he was eating...
"Mom?" I called. I didn't call Mr. Gianini because during the week before I'd left for Genovia, he'd been urging me to call him Frank. Ok, hello, Mr. G? I'm so never calling you Frank. To call you Frank at home and then Mr. Gianini at school would get extremely confusing, and if I accidentally called him Frank at school, I'd be totally embarrassed.
Anyway, nobody answered, so I checked the kitchen to see if Mom or Mr. G left a note. Non. So I picked up the phone and did what I've been wanting to do since I left him: call Michael. Someone picked up the phone on the second ring.
"Hey, this is Mia. Is--"
"Mia!" Lily greeted. "...Wow. You're home early."
Uh-oh. Totally not who I had been expecting to pick up. Something told me to tell Lily about Michael and I, but knowing Lily, I just couldn't. So instead I opened my mouth, forcing words to come out. "Um...Lily. Hi! How are you? D'ja miss me?"
Oh, I am so good. See Mom? being an accomplished liar definitely has its perks.
"Absolutely. Shameeka had to take over your spot on the show, but we managed. Hey, I was thinking of holding a protest outside school..."
I absentmindedly opened the fridge, thinking of Michael. Did I ever tell you he has really nice eyes? Well...he has really nice eyes.
I saw our electric bill in the ice bin. I wonder if Michael likes ice, I thought. I'd have to ask him.
I was pulled out of my dreams but the mentioning of the word Michael.
"...such a pain in the ass. He could take over your spot so Shameeka could do her job, but no. He spent the whole week sitting in his room, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn't even go on the computer. He just left it on the whole week. I mean, God. Talk about a waste of space. Which reminds me, he got a new phone line because he was tying ours up..."
Michael. On-line. "Hey, Lily?" I asked in a dreamy sort of way, "Can I call you back? I just got home, I have to unpack and stuff. You know."
"Uh...Yeah, Mia, sure. But I'll be a little busy, so call me back around 12. Mia...are you feeling ok? You sound really weird. What did that grandmother of yours do--"
"Yeah...ok...bye." And I flew to my room, just barely hanging the phone up as I went.
I signed on and saw Michael was on, but idle. Still, I wasted no time instant messaging him:
FtLouie: Psst...Michael!
CracKing: Mia! You're home! God, what took you so long? How'd everything go?
FtLouie: Well, I guess you could say that addressing the country that you'll someday reign over is a little easier when you're not nervous.
CracKing: Whoa--you weren't nervous?
FtLouie: No, I think I'll blame all the throwing up on having to look at the roast pork on the table in front of me while I spoke.
CracKing: Oh, Mia...
FtLouie: So how are you?
CracKing: I don't know...could be better I guess, considering that I haven't seen you for a week.
I heard the door in the kitchen open. "Mom?" I yelled. "Mr. G?"
My mother came running in, arms spread wide. "You're home!" She embraced me for two seconds before she pulled back, her hand over her mouth. She ran. I sniffed my armpits. Was it me??
And that's when I remembered my mother was well into her fourth month of pregnancy. I'd thought about her over my week in Genovia, but I hadn't really thought about the baby. It was still a little hard to get used to. I figured I should go stand with her in the bathroom to hold her hair back.
FtLouie: Michael, I've got to go...My mom's home and she's, you know, puking.
CracKing: Ok...well, do you want to come over later?
FtLouie: Yeah, sure. Lily's not going to be there, right?
CracKing: I don't know. Why, would it be weird?
FtLouie: No...I just haven't told her yet.
CracKing: You haven't TOLD HER?
FtLouie: Um, no. Didn't you?
CracKing: No! I thought you did!
FtLouie: Alright...this is ok...let's calm down. I'll come over later, and we'll both tell her.
CracKing: Yeah, I guess.
FtLouie: Ok, I have to go. You know...stand in the bathroom. For moral support and stuff.
CracKing: Ok. What time do you think you can come?
I heard a really loud splash in the bathroom, and some throwing-up sounds from my mother. Ech.
FtLouie: Michael I really have to go.
CracKing: Um...alright 7 then.
FtLouie: Yeah. See you soon.
And then I logged off.
My mother looked up as I entered the bathroom, looking a little green. She misinterpretted the look on my face.
"Don't worry, Mia." she said, "This is all normal for a pregnant woman...Excuse me." And she bent over the toilet again.
All I have to say is this baby better be worth all this. He's interrupting my boyfriend time.
Author's Notes: Umm...ok...A few notes about me. My name is Luna, and I rarely capitalize. I'm trying really hard for the sake of this story, but I might just...skip by accident. Ok. I have absolutely no idea where this story is going, but I wanted to write a fanfic on the Princess Diaries, because I didn't want to write one on Harry Potter. And with this, it's almost like your own journal (if you were the princess of Genovia with an enemy named Lana Wienberger and an extremely hott boyfriend named Michael and a limo and a penthouse and a strange gramma and stuffs). Concerning the story: I kinda skipped through the first trip to Genovia, but there will be little references to it here and there. I just thought it would be too boring and I would lose reader and people wouldn't want to give me hits on my story, they'd want to give me hits on my face. Two: I'm upset because I can't make lists, according to ff.n. Mia constantly makes list, which, I admit can be annoying, but that's how she writes. So I'll see what I can do to get around this...Number three: this story rated PG13 for cursing (oOo! a-word!), un-capitalized letters, and mean grammas that can be nice. And French. Pardon my French.
The Princess Diaries, Fanfiction Volume I
Princess in the Clouds
Sunday, December 30, 10:35 am
Honestly, Genovia is nice. I mean, Grandmère is always telling my about the white sand beaches, the tourism rate updates. But I always forget that Genovia isn't as beautiful as home.
I guess Fat Louie missed me. Either that, or Mom and Mr. Gianini didn't feed him enough, because the minute he heard the key turning in the lock, he shot into the kitchen (well, for Fat Louie it's shooting, to the rest of us it's waddling in a hurry) and jumped up on the table next to where I was standing and sniffed me. I put my bags and my keys on the table and picked him up. This was difficult. And he stayed there for a few seconds until he noticed I put my keys down, and he proceeded to jump back onto the table and take them to the bathroom to hide them behind the toilet. I groaned. It would be a tricky process to get them back. I'd have to do it while he was eating...
"Mom?" I called. I didn't call Mr. Gianini because during the week before I'd left for Genovia, he'd been urging me to call him Frank. Ok, hello, Mr. G? I'm so never calling you Frank. To call you Frank at home and then Mr. Gianini at school would get extremely confusing, and if I accidentally called him Frank at school, I'd be totally embarrassed.
Anyway, nobody answered, so I checked the kitchen to see if Mom or Mr. G left a note. Non. So I picked up the phone and did what I've been wanting to do since I left him: call Michael. Someone picked up the phone on the second ring.
"Hey, this is Mia. Is--"
"Mia!" Lily greeted. "...Wow. You're home early."
Uh-oh. Totally not who I had been expecting to pick up. Something told me to tell Lily about Michael and I, but knowing Lily, I just couldn't. So instead I opened my mouth, forcing words to come out. "Um...Lily. Hi! How are you? D'ja miss me?"
Oh, I am so good. See Mom? being an accomplished liar definitely has its perks.
"Absolutely. Shameeka had to take over your spot on the show, but we managed. Hey, I was thinking of holding a protest outside school..."
I absentmindedly opened the fridge, thinking of Michael. Did I ever tell you he has really nice eyes? Well...he has really nice eyes.
I saw our electric bill in the ice bin. I wonder if Michael likes ice, I thought. I'd have to ask him.
I was pulled out of my dreams but the mentioning of the word Michael.
"...such a pain in the ass. He could take over your spot so Shameeka could do her job, but no. He spent the whole week sitting in his room, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn't even go on the computer. He just left it on the whole week. I mean, God. Talk about a waste of space. Which reminds me, he got a new phone line because he was tying ours up..."
Michael. On-line. "Hey, Lily?" I asked in a dreamy sort of way, "Can I call you back? I just got home, I have to unpack and stuff. You know."
"Uh...Yeah, Mia, sure. But I'll be a little busy, so call me back around 12. Mia...are you feeling ok? You sound really weird. What did that grandmother of yours do--"
"Yeah...ok...bye." And I flew to my room, just barely hanging the phone up as I went.
I signed on and saw Michael was on, but idle. Still, I wasted no time instant messaging him:
FtLouie: Psst...Michael!
CracKing: Mia! You're home! God, what took you so long? How'd everything go?
FtLouie: Well, I guess you could say that addressing the country that you'll someday reign over is a little easier when you're not nervous.
CracKing: Whoa--you weren't nervous?
FtLouie: No, I think I'll blame all the throwing up on having to look at the roast pork on the table in front of me while I spoke.
CracKing: Oh, Mia...
FtLouie: So how are you?
CracKing: I don't know...could be better I guess, considering that I haven't seen you for a week.
I heard the door in the kitchen open. "Mom?" I yelled. "Mr. G?"
My mother came running in, arms spread wide. "You're home!" She embraced me for two seconds before she pulled back, her hand over her mouth. She ran. I sniffed my armpits. Was it me??
And that's when I remembered my mother was well into her fourth month of pregnancy. I'd thought about her over my week in Genovia, but I hadn't really thought about the baby. It was still a little hard to get used to. I figured I should go stand with her in the bathroom to hold her hair back.
FtLouie: Michael, I've got to go...My mom's home and she's, you know, puking.
CracKing: Ok...well, do you want to come over later?
FtLouie: Yeah, sure. Lily's not going to be there, right?
CracKing: I don't know. Why, would it be weird?
FtLouie: No...I just haven't told her yet.
CracKing: You haven't TOLD HER?
FtLouie: Um, no. Didn't you?
CracKing: No! I thought you did!
FtLouie: Alright...this is ok...let's calm down. I'll come over later, and we'll both tell her.
CracKing: Yeah, I guess.
FtLouie: Ok, I have to go. You know...stand in the bathroom. For moral support and stuff.
CracKing: Ok. What time do you think you can come?
I heard a really loud splash in the bathroom, and some throwing-up sounds from my mother. Ech.
FtLouie: Michael I really have to go.
CracKing: Um...alright 7 then.
FtLouie: Yeah. See you soon.
And then I logged off.
My mother looked up as I entered the bathroom, looking a little green. She misinterpretted the look on my face.
"Don't worry, Mia." she said, "This is all normal for a pregnant woman...Excuse me." And she bent over the toilet again.
All I have to say is this baby better be worth all this. He's interrupting my boyfriend time.