A/N: Hiya everyone! Me again. Hai hai, I know I really should be working on "Split Decisions, " but you know what? I was. I tried really really hard to write at least one new chapter the past couple of days, but the words just won't come out right. I figured I was in a rut, and that a change would do me good, so here's a new fanfic.
I'm still working on "Split Decisions." Don't worry, I don't plan on starting a million fanfics I don't intend on finishing.
You guys will forgive me if my English is bad, right?
Oh and before you start hate-mailing me because of plagiarism, I want to make a couple of things clear: I'll be the first to admit that this idea is not a hundred per cent original. This fanfic was inspired by, and will in some parts be a parody of, my latest obsession, the greatest show on local daytime television, "Meteor Garden," I love that show. Dao rocks my world! And yeah okay, so it is a soap opera. But hey! It was a manga/anime first, and that makes it cool in my book. I also love it when I'm able to make my fandoms cross over.
And lastly, if anyone can help me; the prologue has some stuff on his parents, but since I've never seen "Parents Day" or "The Journal" I don't know a lot about them except they disappeared during an expedition somewhere. (I used to have the "Parents' Day" book, but I lost it and don't remember it very well), So, feel free to correct me if I made a mistake somewhere, and I'll revise this. I also know nothing about American prep schools, so maybe someone can help me out with that as well. My email is lilacdream54@yahoo.com
That's it. Hope you like this little fic, and as always, please review.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Hey Arnold, and not Meteor Garden/Hana Yori Dango. Suing me would be a waste of time. Don't.
The Beautiful Ones
By K-CHAN
Prologue:
The bus ride was torture, yet the fifteen-year-old boy prayed it wouldn't end.
His mind started to wander. The long stretch of road became the river Styx, the bus, a ferryboat, and the surly driver, Charon, and he was a lost soul on a one way trip to the Underworld.
The boy shook his head. 'Stop it,' he told himself. Such thoughts did not help calm his nerves.
He had every reason to be apprehensive. At his school, classes had started a week ago, but this was the first day he went to school, and he was a high school freshman.
He was about to enter a new school where he didn't know anybody, and he was already falling behind with his schoolwork. That's one heck of a way to start high school.
It couldn't be helped. Until two days ago, he had been out of the country with his parents. He would have gotten back in time for the first day of school if his scheduled flight home had not been postponed due to bad weather.
He didn't really mind, though. It allowed him a little more time with his parents. He knew that once he left them, it might be a long time before they would see each other again. Their professions required them to do a lot of travelling. That was the reason he spent the better part of his childhood wondering about, and longing for, his parents: They had, during an expedition, disappeared mysteriously for how many years.
He supposed he was still more fortunate than most, having been left in the care of his doting grandparents. They were very good to him, and he loved them a great deal, but deep down he missed his parents terribly.
By some miracle, they returned on the night before his eleventh birthday. He cried then, and threw his arms around them. The past was forgotten. He didn't ask for any explanations, all that mattered was that they were back.
"We're a family again, Arnold," they told him.
He truly believed everything would be fine, then, but he was mistaken. Life was never really that simple. His parents were too much like him: selfless, giving, willing to sacrifice parts of themselves for the sake of others… If a small village in another continent needed their help, they would be there. This lifestyle proved inconvenient for Arnold. In the four years he was with his parents, he'd gone to 3 different schools. He never stayed anywhere long enough to make any friends. Not like the friends he had in Hillwood, anyway.
He wasn't used to feeling so lonely.
Arnold's thoughts were disrupted when the driver announced his stop, so he got off and started walking. He was almost there.
Moving around so much caused Arnold's grades to suffer, and it took all his strength and willpower not to be held back in the 8th grade. He knew high school would be even tougher, so he was forced to make the hardest decision of his life.
He talked it over with his parents, who were very understanding about his situation. They really liked having Arnold with them, but they agreed that it was very important for Arnold to do well in high school, if he were to get into a good college someday. They supported his decision, made some calls to people they knew, and before he knew it, he was enrolled in the prestigious Brighton Academy, a prep school only a thirty minute drive away from the Sunset Arms Boarding House, which was owned by his grandparents.
Naturally, he would have to move back in with them.
So here he was, standing at the front gate of what was to be his home away for the next four years: Time enough to forge special friendships with his peers.
It wouldn't be long before he felt like he belonged once more.
Such pleasant thoughts almost brought him peace of mind if only he hadn't noticed the other students.
Apart from himself, he had not seen one student arrive via public transportation. A lot of the older students drove really cool cars like BMW convertibles to school, while the rest were dropped of by uniformed chauffeurs.
He looked around, at the students who arrived before him. He might not have seen them step out of fancy cars, but he could tell at a glance that they weren't commuters, either.
The students of Brighton Academy all wore uniforms. The male students wore long-sleeved black blazers with the school emblem, charcoal-gray slacks, and a tie. The female students wore practically the same thing; only instead of slacks, they wore pleated skirts and knee socks.
This made nary a difference to Arnold. Even though he wore the same thing everyone else did, he still felt as though he stuck out like a sore thumb.
These people were definitely not his peers.
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To be continued. Please tell me what you think!
-K-Chan