A/N: Well, this is it. The end of The Pugcess Diaries as we know it. For more information about what's coming after this chapter, see the Author's Note at the end.



This chapter (and the whole story, for that matter) is dedicated to everyone who's written a review: angellinda, andie, anonymous, Ax, BIBLEHERMIONE, Blondie, Bookworm, Calliope, cat, carissa, CMMfan, Cousin It, Erin, FanFicFan, fatcat7462, FrogAub, Gothic Valley Girl, Hannah Gray, Hanspam, JainaSolo2097, Jess, Katy, Lavander Ice, Meatball Head, Megan, Mellie, Rose Black, Sarah, She's A Star, starz, Squin, *too lazy to sign in*, and What's Their Name. Thank you very much. please keep reviewing!



~*Sunday, October 19*~



I can barely write. I'm tired, sure, but that's not the only reason.



Last night . . . wonderful . . . what could be better?*



Everything's so HAPPY! My life is rosy!* I've got my best friend back, my show back, and . . . BORIS!!!



I'm in love.*** With Boris Pelkowski, Russian violinist and guy of my dreams.



All I can do is sigh dreamily. Boris is perfect.



He had NEVER (?!?!) danced before last night, but being a violinist must put some sort of natural sense of rhythm and music into his heavy Russian feet, because he did just fine.



I mean, he only stepped on my feet five times each song, MAX.



And he's so sweet, and debonair, and cute, and musical, and lovable, and. PERFECT!!!



Okay, Lill, you can shut up now.



Okay, okay. I'll just leave it at this: Boris is perfect, and I'd better shut up before I scare myself with this eerie un-Lilly romanticizing.



Last night, after the dance, everyone came over to my apartment in Tina's limo. (I have decided that limo-riding is the lifestyle for me. I know I wrote a bit about it last night, but I like this whole rich-famous-and- bodyguarded style. It's so . . . foreign. So exclusive.



I guess that's the point.



So we all ate and talked and played Mia and my lovely End of the World game until my father, typical miser that he is, made everyone go home just because HE has to get up early to meet with his tai chi instructor. How selfish!



Well, obviously Michael and I didn't have to go home, since we're already there, and Mia stayed over to spend the night, so the three of us hung out for a little while and then Michael and Mia . . . disappeared. To his room.



I know I said they were a cute couple, but I still don't want to think about what they could have been doing in there.



Still, they ARE my best friend and my brother, so I'm sure they'll be their dense selves forever. I doubt the day will ever come when Mia will stop dreaming about my brother liking her back (which he does; that's the problem) or Michael will stop coming up with excuses to borrow stuff from me whenever Mia's over. Even though Michael's pulling up on valedictorian and Mia's . . . well, not flunking Algebra anymore, I think they're still both a little stupid on the romance front.



And maybe that's a good thing. I mean, I like having Mia come over here to see ME, not to snog my brother. And I like seeing Michael weasel his way into talking to Mia and finding out about her via gossip from me. It's quite fun, in an unexplainable way, to see your big brother squirm.



Oh, and speaking of valedictorians, I found out who's ahead of me as #1 in the freshman class.



I don't know who it was back in middle school, but I suspect Phil the Pocket Protector kid, who moved away at the end of eighth grade. I never real though about Phil before because he's one of those people who's not really there if you don't think really hard about him. The only person who know much about Phil was the teacher, who gave him Advanced Calculus and the like to do and who he stayed after class to help every single day.



But now Phil is gone, so I had no explanation for what had happened to my position. I should be number one.



But I'm not.



Instead . . . BORIS is.



My little violinist is a genius.



I don't know whether to hate him or like him even more.



I think I'll choose the latter. He's too cute to hate.



In other news, Mia and the royal side of her family are getting along a little bit better now. Mia managed to weasel her way out of "princess lessons" for a whole week, so she's happy.



It turns out she and her dad signed a pact that states that she gets to spend the rest of her high-school years at Albert Einstein as long as she performs all these duties expected of the Princess of Genovia. These duties include spending Christmases and summers at the palace.



There's only a month and a half until Christmas break.



That's a month and a half that I have to get myself a charter plane ride to Genovia to spend some quality time bonding with the royal subjects and finding out their opinions on the meat and leather industries in the world right now.



Oh, what does it matter? It's just my journal. I can sound excessively shallow here.



I just want to "live" in a palace.



There's nothing wrong with that, right?



Oh, and back at the beginning of the month, when Mr. G. suggested that Mia try out for Eliza Doolittle, the lead in My Fair Lady? Well, I've been stage-managing that play long enough that I've figured something out.



Mia doesn't need the play to be transformed. It's happened in her LIFE recently . . . I mean, come on, you see what I'm talking about, right? Mia's dad and grandmother are like that professor, picking her up off the streets of New York City and teaching her how to be a princess.



These sort of things make me wonder how much, exactly, our dear Mr. G knows about Mia and her family.



FOOTNOTES:

*than being together, is what I cannot explain to Jane! (Jane, Barenaked Ladies)

**I'm feeling comfy cozy! (The Happy Song, Hokus Pick)

***I'm a believer! THEN I SAW HER FACE! (I'm a Believer, the Monkees)

Sorry, I was having a little trouble there not singing songs that went with the words I'd just typed. We all know that I'm a spaz, so what does it matter?



Okay, here's what's going to happen with this story, now that I'm done with "The Pugcess Diaries."



I think . . . I'm going to write PitS (okay, I don't like that acronym. I'll call it TPD2 instead) from Michael AND Lilly's POV's, okay? I'm doing this because I REALLY want to write TPD3 from Michael's POV and I'd feel like I was neglecting dear Lilly by doing only one in her voice and 2 in Michael's. Besides, it'll take up twice as much time, meaning that I may not finish until TPD3 is almost out.



So . . . what do you think of that? Please let me know by writing me a review or communicating with me otherwise. preferably both, especially if you're one of those lovely people I see all the time anyway.



And so this is Christmas. Okay, Christmas is over, but that song just popped into my head. I love John Lennon.



That said, adios until the next installment of . . . KATE WRITES PERFECTLY GOOD BOOKS THROUGH POV'S OF CRAZY CHARACTERS AND MAKES THEM SOUND BAD!!!