The Royal Guardian

By: Sokai

Disclaimer: I, Sokai, do not claim ownership to the workings of W.I.T.C.H. -- I leave that honor up to Elisabetta Gnone. Nor do I own Meg Cabot's "The Princess Diaries" series (even though this story isn't even really related to the series. Just don't want to hear law suit claims LoL). However, I can and DO claim to own this story and its inspired ideas FROM said series.

Note: Yikes. So quick you "all" were to pounce upon this story. Woo. Whatever your reason for it, thank you! Anyway, some of you had asked if this story will be entirely in diary-mode. Honestly, I don't know yet. I'm tempted to, but mainly because I am lazy right now, writing-wise. LoL And since I write in journals (manual or online) religiously, chapter updates would be far more frequent since it comes so naturally. But yeah. We'll see.

And yes, obviously it's P.D.-flavored a tick, but it's still W.I.T.C.H. I'll still include Guardian missions and that "world," alongside everything else I'll put Will through, etc. So no worries. Just enjoy. LoL

This story/chapter was created in November 2006.

Chapter Two

Tuesday, October 31st, 10:45 pm

Dear Diary,

Okay. So I'm back and ready to continue my ranting escapade. Mom had suddenly decided to go all out with asking me to do various chores -- which, to be honest, isn't that much of a stretch.

But what is surprising about it is that, this is actually the first time in a few days that she's been able to stand being within the same room as me for more than fifteen seconds (which, for her, is tremendously perplexing, her avoiding me, as this is the same woman who'd threatened to move us away from Heatherfield because we were not solidifying well as a family), as well as maintain eye contact.

If Mom sees me coming, lately the "tactic" has been her trying very hard to keep herself as busy as possible in order to, I suppose, distract herself from my presence and whatever might be bothering her . . . about me? Maybe? I don't know.

It's just odd to see Mom act this way -- as though our roles have been reversed, with me as the parental unit and her as the secretive kid.

All that I do know for sure is that, whatever's bugging her, I don't think that it's school related (or else she would be all over me by now -- trust me . . . even though she doesn't actually have a reason or "right" to. Not yet, anyway. The semester may have only just started, but I'm not doing that bad -- and that includes my math class.).

Note to self: find out what's the matter with my mother, right after I've finished writing this entry and obsessing over Caleb.

Although, in that case, I don't suppose then, that I'll ever find out, since I seem to continue getting sidetracked, and Caleb is pretty much my life.

But anyway, back to the more important matter: the Halloween Ball.

The big talk of the town (well, for we "young people," anyway).

The only, main reason that everyone had been supremely excited about it, was because of the fact that it was being held at multi-billionaire Edwin "Eddie" Benoni's beyond huge mansion.

Seventeen year old Eddie is the extremely lucky, extremely wealthy heir to the prestigious Benoni Empire, courtesy of his great-great-grandfather, Claude Benoni. An apparently famous painter-turned-art-collector, Claude's wise and strategic financial ventures had ultimately awarded him and his descendants an overabundant accumulation of wealth that continues to expand as each day passes.

Needless to say, Eddie is guaranteed to live a life free of financial woes.

Lucky.

But, basically? To put it frank, Eddie and his family come pretty close to making Bill Gates look like a welfare case.

Did you know that the guy even had a whole school assembly dedicated to him and his family's exploits during the first day of school and his first week in Heatherfield last year, after moving from Paris (which is why I'd known all of that family history, since I've otherwise never heard of him or his family before. I generally don't pay much attention to anything revolving around politics, economics, or anything else of that nature. Too small an attention span for that, and besides -- I like things that are fun, not to mention that my intended career will not at all involve that or evil math.)?

All I can say is, it's a good thing that Eddie's pretty nice and down to Earth for an extremely powerful individual, or else I would find it a bit unnerving that he already dominates the town in popularity (then again, after all that I'd just written about him, why am I honestly surprised?).

I mean, after all, his family is so rich that it could buy an entire country if ever the desire had arisen.

And he's especially favored by the ladies, which I can't honestly fault them for.

At six feet, two inches tall, with his athletic, muscular body, caramel colored hair and green eyes that shimmer brightly in beautiful contrast against his mocha hued complexion, Eddie could (and probably has) grace the covers of the world's top fashion magazines or what have you.

Even Hay Lin (despite her being blissfully happy within her own steady relationship with boyfriend, Eric Lyndon, for the past year and a half) seems to be a bit taken with him. Although, it could be, at least within her case, due the fact that his family owns and also trades, I'm sure, every kind of painting within existence.

And being a tremendously talented artist, herself, it would be a smart move, in my opinion, for Hay Lin to get buddy-buddy with him (that is, if his three bulky, Men In Black-resembling bodyguards don't either tackle, or worse, Taser her for trying to do so first).

Even I will admit that, I too find Eddie to be quite the dish; however, my heart still loyally-yet-deplorably lies with Caleb.

Besides, like it'd even matter if I did honestlywant Eddie, though -- I, or any other girl, frankly.

Since, for all the best efforts every available (and yes, even the unavailable) girl has attempted to vie for his affection (and of course, for possibly his money), lucky Irma is the one whom Eddie has apparently chosen to wine and dine.

Well, try to wine and dine, anyhow.

For whatever reason, Irma simply is not interested in Eddie (or so she says, at least), despite his best efforts to impress the distinct Water Guardian. Her frequent explanation (or excuse) to deflecting his advances usually sounds something like: "Because I don't do well with the 'flashy' type. Look at how I am with Cornelia -- turbulence city."

Honestly, the girls and I think that Irma is, perhaps suffering from a bout of severe Inferiority Complex or something (a concept that interrelates well to me at times, sadly) -- which is absolutely ridiculous because she is phenomenal.

Heck. Irma could negotiate extra hours of daylight out of the sun if she'd wanted to and wasn't quite yet ready for nightfall, she's that persuasive and unequivocal.

And she is, after all, the main reason why Eddie had decided to throw a monumental Halloween bash in the first place.

Irma vehemently disagrees, but the rest of us all believe that it had been because Eddie had listened to her give a little rant on the school's radio, about "how much more enjoyable and creepy Halloween could have been, had the school dance been held within a haunted house, instead of the school's non-haunted gym."

It was one proclamation that had awarded Irma a day within detention, plus three days suspension from the radio, as Principal Kerin Brooks had deemed it "dangerously close to outright disrespect for the school, thus inciting a potential riot."

A little note. Principal Brooks may be a poodle in comparison to Sheffield Institute's Principal Knickerbocker's rottweiler-like demeanor where discipline is concerned, but he still has his moments of cracking down the whip . . . even if it may sometimes be within an unjust capacity.

Still, Irma is, by now, "Public Enemy Number One" with authority figures, which we've all always found pretty ironic, given that she has a police detective for a father. You would think that being something of a "Miss Goody-Two-Shoes" would be her "raison d'être" or something, after having lived under Mr. Lair's strict rules for the past seventeen years.

But what am I saying? Then Irma would no longer be Irma.

I digress once again, though, because my brain is so completely disheveled from tonight's events . . .

So as I was saying, despite the uncalled for punishment for Irma's expressive broadcast as a downside, Eddie had nonetheless found it intriguing, because the next thing we students and faculty know, we were invited, a whole year in advance, to attend his mansion-hosted Halloween Ball.

Even though everyone -- Irma included -- was excited about it and had thanked her for having spoken her mind to prompt Eddie to throw this ball for her, Irma had also spent a good majority of last year and this summer disclaiming it.

"It was Eddie's idea -- not mine. I can't help it that he was listening to my show that day, or that he agreed with me that last year's dance blew. Besides, I'd never said anything about turning it into a freaking ball! What are we? Aristocrats,or something?" has been her steady, defensive reply to anyone who would comment, sounding completely opposed to the idea of dressing up in some munificent costume, or something along those lines when going to Eddie's planetary house.

Of course, though, by the time that this new school year had approached and this month especially, Irma's tone and outlook had changed, as both she and Cornelia led the way within our "W.I.T.C.H." group (with Taranee and Hay Lin tied in a close second) as the most excited, and struggling to shop for the best costume.

And that was where my little plan had begun to set in my ongoing attempt to gain Caleb's attention.

I'd realized that the ball would be the perfect setting to mesmerize him with my blossoming beauty (okay, then) . . . Such a total "Cinderella" moment, with the immaculate, dazzling attire, hair and make up. Something that would completely outdo whatever Cornelia had planned on wearing.

And I could definitely get away with it too -- going all out in the charisma department, I mean. I'd figured that if anyone had grown suspicious as to why Will Vandom, the tomboy who usually chooses to don a pair of overalls over a miniskirt any day (not like I'd have the supreme guts to sport one of those, anyway. At least, not in broad daylight and/or in public, period.), would be suddenly morphing herself into a Beauty Pageant contestant, instead of into some ghoul for this year's Halloween, I could just lie.

Shell out some excuse like, "Well, it is a 'ball,' even if it is also Halloween-oriented, after all. There might be a prize for 'Best Non-Grizzly Costume' or whatever."

Hey. I'd believe that.

So anyway, I had spent the end of last Spring, the entire Summer, and last month working like a madwoman and saving up enough money to buy this really neat medieval, eggshell colored ball gown dubbed the "Queen Guinevere," with a flowing silhouette train speckled with gold that was attached to the bodice area.

I'd instantly fallen in love with it the very moment that I'd spotted it in passing, while visiting my dad back in Fadden Hills last Christmas.

I mean, talk about a Cinderella kind of dress for a Cinderella kind of event, huh? If this wasn't a sign of good things to come, I didn't know what else could have been.

There were only two catches, though. The first being that I don't exactly look the best in dresses. It's not like I look horrible within them, don't get me wrong. I personally think that I clean up pretty nicely within them. Still, I knew that I was nonetheless in for some massive refitting and altering of this gown if I'd bought it.

The second catch? To buy it at all, I would have to order it online, because when I'd gone into the store to ask about it, the lady at the front desk told me that the one within the window was for display only, and that their stock was extremely limited.

Let me tell you, the price for it was pretty steep (hence all of the overtime working I had to do), but super worth it if it would mean that I would have, at the very least, five minutes of Caleb's time. Besides, the lady had also informed me that they were taking down the display gown to put up other, brand new gowns that they'd just received in stock, so that had given me a bit of reassurance that there would be absolutely no way that anyone else would have my gown.

Right?

WRONG!

I don't know why I was so amazed, though, honestly, because it's my luck.

And also my fault.

Because before I'd left for the ball, stating to the girls earlier on that I would just meet them there as a way to suspend the surprise of what I was wearing, I'd shared a quick telephone call with Taranee about our continued excitement over it all, which had gone something like this:

Taranee: (Squeals in excitement, voice slightly strained as though pulling something on) Can you believe that we are actually going to see the inside of Eddie's colossal mansion in less than half an hour? Finally?

Me: (Busy being distracted by the for once flawless reflection gazing back at me within the bathroom mirror) I know, Ranee. But I'll bet that no one's more excited about this than Eddie, himself, since he'll finally have his "beloved Irma" inside of his living quarters.

Taranee: (Laughs in agreement) Tell me about it. Too bad Nigel had managed to get himself grounded for his stupid Halloween prank on Sutterville's football team last week, or else he could have played my "Prince Aladdin." But I guess that Martin will have to do for tonight.

Me: (Still finding it hard to envision still a bit scrawny, although now taller Martin Tubbs as the rugged, hero-type) Oh yeah, that's right, "Princess Jasmine." I'm sure that your highness will find another "Aladdin" lookalike dwelling within the platoon of guests who will be there tonight, in case you grow tired of Martin's corny jokes.

Taranee: Speaking of "doppelgangers," I certainly hope that no one has the same costume as us. Probably will, but I still hope that they won't be massively identical, anyway. But we, of course, won't have to worry about Miss Cornelia pulling a repeat with anyone there, as her costumes are always original every year.

Me: (Heart jumps a bit at the mention of Cornelia and her possible vesture for the evening, feeling worried for the first time that night that maybe it might be something similar to what I'd bought) Uh . . . Y-yeah. Yeah, but you never know. She might have just gone with something "normal," like a vampire costume, just to get us talking at the drastic turnaround.

Taranee: (Scoffs, before hanging up) Highly doubt that. Hay was on the phone with her while Hay was instant messaging me, and she said that Cornelia's costume "is definitely going to turn heads." But I ask you, Will: was there ever really any doubt of that?

So, you can imagine, by that point, my nerves had reached level three and a half out of five. Because I'd immediately thought to myself, What if her costume really does turn heads? Namely, Caleb's, and to the point that no matter how "beautiful" I may look right now tonight, it will be no match against Cornelia's impenetrable forcefield of elegance?

But, no. Nooooooo. I just had to have faith that things would go my way, in spite of that obvious foreshadowing of doom.

Silly me.

Did my best to suck it up and I'd arrived at Eddie's mansion estate just fine, along with the other twenty thousand people filtering into his place. I'd decided to hang back, though, and make a bit of a late entrance, so that the chances of being spotted by Caleb would have been greater.

So that's exactly what I did.

And would you believe me if I'd told you that the entire "opening scene" to this night's event had been just like in "Cinderella" (Did I mention in past entries that "Cinderella" happens to be one of my all-time favorite Disney movies? Hence my frequent reference to it, of course.)? You know, the part where she arrives at Prince Charming's ball late, just like I had to Eddie's, and had to descend that grand, beautiful staircase -- which in turn earned her her first class ticket straight into her future husband's heart from then on out?

Well, I had to do the very same, because after getting out of Eddie's elevator (Yes, elevator. Taranee and I weren't kidding when we'd stated that the Benoni mansion is an astronomic wonder.) that had taken me to the floor that was holding the shindig, I'd found myself standing at the top of a very long stairwell.

Best of all? Not only did I spot a "Tarzan"-resembling Caleb (with the loincloth and everything. Yumtastic.) amongst the growing crowd of people, I also did not see Cornelia anywhere in sight, period.

For once, Caleb was alone.

Well, not exactly alone, as he was busy talking about something apparently really funny at the refreshment table with Eric (who was dressed as Elvis, pre-Rhinestone jumpsuit era), Aladdin-Martin, and his date (for the night, at least), Jasmine-Taranee. But who cared? The point was, I knew that this moment would be as good as any to capture his attention.

And so, even though my heart had been pounding within my chest and I felt as though I was about two seconds away from passing out (because, besides wanting -- no, needing to do this, I was never fond of congested attention. And with a room full of fifty billion people? It wouldn't get any more congested than that), I'd managed to maintain enough wits about me to get Taranee's attention via the mind, knowing that she would hear my thoughts, turn her attention to the staircase and thus trigger the guys' attention toward it as well.

Sure enough, right as I'd begun to descend the staircase, my bland, brown eyes had gloriously locked with Caleb's brilliant emerald gems, and in that moment I'd felt myself swiftly ascend onto cloud nine.

Because his expression had shown with utter intrigue and captivation when he'd looked at me.

And then a warm, even adoring smile had spread across his tanned, flawless visage, as though he hadn't seen anyone more beautiful . . .

In that moment, I had known that finally, FINALLY all of my dreams were about to come true, because Caleb was at last seeing the great inner beauty that even I was aware lay deep within me.

Okay. We can snap out of the fantasy world now.

True version? Oh, he did look up towards the staircase with the others. Heck, he even had smiled in the way that I'd described.

But it wasn't for me. Nor had he been looking at me in the first place. I had been looking at him, but he, of course, had been fixated upon someone else.

Three guesses as to whom that might have been.

Apparently, Cornelia had had the same idea that I had with wanting to make a grand entrance (duh-UH), because the next thing I know, I can hear her familiar voice behind me, saying, "Oh, my God, Will! No way! I guess great minds think alike, because we have the same exact gown! I'm surprised, since -- no offense, it's pretty pricey! Still, no one will mistake us for twins, since -- no offense again, I pull it off better."

Remember what I said about feeling like I could pass out? Close enough, in regard to what had happened next.

I turned around, saw Miss Cornelia all dolled up wearing indeed the very same Queen Guinevere gown that I was (only she looked far more bonny within it, as expected and as she'd blatantly stated). A happy smirk had then riddled itself straight across her peaches and cream, blemish-free complexion as she looked from me to her boyfriend, and before I knew it, in my startled upset, found myself falling backwards with an extremely loud yelp.

Down, down, down I'd tumbled, half praying to live and half praying for death, because I knew that if the fall honestly didn't killed me, the extreme embarrassment I would undoubtedly feel thereafter would.

Miraculously (although, now that I think about it, not really, because I suspect that Cornelia had swiftly used her Telekinetic abilities to ensure a safe landing for my unfortunate fall down Eddie's sea of stairs. How ironic is that, that my savior is the also technically the "enemy?"), I'd made it down all right, with my body in tact but pride all asunder.

I don't know if anyone had rushed to my side to assist, and I don't even want to know. Because as soon as I'd regained my footing, I'd hightailed it out of the nearest exit, and out of the mansion altogether.

I do know that, of course, Caleb had to have seen the entire debacle (who didn't?), and probably laughed along with everyone else I'd heard beginning to do as I ran away.

So here I am, back within the safety of my bedroom, still dressed within my once-beautiful, now-wrinkled and hideous (to me, anyway) gown and with hair out of place, avoiding all of the phone calls and e-mails I've been getting from the girls (Hey. That's another reason why I know something's definitely up with my mom. I'd come home far too early than she was supposed to expect me, looking like I've just been mugged, and she didn't even try to pressure me into an explanation, as she usually does. Odd, but the one good thing to happen tonight.).

The plus side to all of this, is that I at least now look more like the original me: scruffy and low-maintenance. That'll teach me to pull a glam-moment.

I have no clue how I can face going to school tomorrow. There is just no way. Pretty sad too, considering that I can look possible death within the eye on a daily basis during Guardian missions, but cannot deal with social isolation.

I mean, facing everyone on the planet who'd been at the ball is going to be bad enough, but to have to see Caleb continue to look straight through me with decreased respect or something -- just end me now, please.

Hmm, I wonder if Mom will believe me if I tell her that I've just suddenly contracted the extremely lethal disease of "Mortified Teenageritis."

-- End of Chapter Two

(A.N. That was fun. Not really. Maybe. I don't know. LoL Anyone want to date my cousin, Alex? Cuz Eddie's based off of him . . . except Alex's hair is more blonde and his complexion is more caramel as the reverse. And then Eddie's great-great-grandpop was based upon mine/Alex's, so that was fun too. LoL Oh. And Principal Brooks is based upon a mixture of MY high school and middle principals, Mr. Kerins, and then Mr. Brooks. BOTH were nice, but extremely useless. LoL

Anyway, it was kinda fun writing about a true event . . . sadly. YES, I admit it. What happened to Will, happened to me when I was seventeen too, ironically, but a far less lavish party. Still was trying to impress my latest crush, though, just like Will for Caleb. Was NOT a fun few weeks after that for me in school, lemme tell you. Blug. Actually, a lot of this diary entry of Will's was true junk for me. Well, minus Cinderella being my fave movie. It's my older sister's, who is very happy to hear of Cinderella III coming out in February. Sounds A LOT better than the second one. LoL But yeah, the same gown, the ball, the embarrassment had all happened to me . . . Only the embarrassment happened when I'd just told you, and the ball and gown wearing happened this Halloween. Fun. LoL

Anyway, poor Will. Still don't know if I'll keep this in diary-mode, but a lot of you seem to prefer that I do. For now, it will be, but still let me know and leave "votes" on yay/nay to keeping the ENTIRE story in this manner, please. Yay. LoL)