*squeals* I am so excited to share this with you guys! Before I jump right into this, I wanted to say thanks so much for reading, it really means a lot. My apologies if the story doesn't exactly follow the books, or if it isn't completely canon - its been a while. Anyway, here is the first chapter! Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Another Day
"Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal." - Albert Cammus
It was just another day . . .
“And that is why one must always create characters who are real, and flawed, and not always perfect. Perfection is boring, and most importantly, it is misleading to readers everywhere. It is a lie subscribing to our own societal standards - barriers that we as humans fight every day to break down. So, don’t be a fraud, be genuine, and you can be guaranteed success.” Silence.
Ding, ding, ding!
Amy Cahill faced the senior class students as they hurriedly rose out of their chairs, and grabbed their backpacks as their teacher - Mrs. Olsen - shouted, “Well, I think that wraps up class for today. Don’t forget, you have an essay due tomorrow morning, and we will be discussing The Stranger and it’s stance on existentialism on Friday, so be prepared - I will not be taking in late work!”
She turned to her guest lecturer and smiled. “Thank you so much, Amy, honestly, I don’t know what we would do without you coming in from time to time, but you know kids, sometimes they just need a little push towards greatness.”
Amy smiled back at the elderly woman. “I'm happy to help, truly Mrs. Olsen. You've got a talented bunch, so no need to worry about them.”
“Oh, you are just the sweetest, dear. Riverbridge High appreciates you nonetheless. It's always good to have a successful writer around to teach us amateurs a couple of things!” laughed the elderly woman. “I won't keep you waiting, dear. I'm sure you must be aching to get home.”
Packing up her own stuff as quickly as her hands would allow her, Amy shot Mrs. Olsen another grin and waved goodbye. Well, at least they weren't completely awful today, she thought as she made her way down the halls of the high school and out of brick and mortar building. It was a chilly January afternoon in New York City, and the streets were packed with busy people rushing through their busy lives, determined to get to their final destination.Yellow cabs lined the roads, honking at others to get out of the way, or to simply move faster. After all, time was of the essence in The Big Apple - if you can't do it fast enough, you're simply not good enough.
Amy waved her hands and yelled, “Taxi!” and after about a minute, one pulled over and she got in. “Manhattan, please.”
Looking out the window at the city that had become her home, she thought about her day. Being a guest lecturer at various schools wasn’t always the most “fun” job, but it was rewarding in its own right. After she had her short story published in The New York Times, she found that she was more popular with the intellectual crowd than she originally thought, and was requested by many eager teachers throughout New York to come to speak at their high schools, and sometimes even colleges. And well, she couldn’t just say no, after all, there could be a William Shakespeare sitting among the young pupils, or a Jane Austen, and maybe she could inspire them in one way or another. It was her duty to help out, if she could.
“Thanks,” she said as she got out of the cab and made her way to her apartment. Well, her and her boyfriend’s apartment, that is. It really was a nice place. A trendy, modern type home, in a good neighborhood at the heart of the city. They both moved out to New York for college, thinking that it would be a good change after all that happened with Cahills, and the Vespers, and such. Anyway, it was good to escape the drama for a while, and after they graduated, they thought that maybe it was good to escape the drama indefinitely. It wasn’t running away, per say, more like . . . turning over a new leaf. A fresh start.
“Jake, I’m home!” Silence.
She sighed, and glanced at her watch. Five o’clock. Jake Rosenbloom worked long hours at the Murphy & Sons Law Firm, so she really shouldn’t have been surprised that he wasn’t home yet. At twenty-nine, he was a rising star, zooming through the ranks, much faster than anyone would have ever expected, and was on his way to becoming one of the greatest lawyers in the state, perhaps even the country. Amy walked over to the dresser and picked up a picture of the both of them in Central Park, right before the start of their first semester at NYU. She let out a small smile. It’s been eleven years since they started dating. A bumpy road, but one that she wouldn’t change for anything. Sometimes she wondered where their future was heading, whether they were still on the same track, but those doubts were expelled from her head the moment they entered it. He was her “epic love” after all, and doubting never served anyone’s purpose well.
Shrugging off her worries, Amy put the photograph back in its place and headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. Lots of coffee. It was going to be a long night, and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to banging her head against the wall repeatedly, hoping to clear up her writer’s block. Yet, it was a necessary evil. Yes, she was a writer, but few knew of how far her writing abilities actually extended to. True, she did publish some cool pieces in several magazines and notable newspapers, but her true passion has always lied in books. So, she published a few of those as well. Five best-sellers, to be exact. Of course, no one besides Dan, Nellie, and her publisher actually knew of her little side hobby, but she kind of liked it that way.
Regina Devlin was a strong, beautiful, independent young woman, who was unafraid of what others thought, after all. She wrote the most beautiful and touching stories of far off adventures, life long friendships, and poignant romances. She was confident, smart, and witty, and in short, she was everything Amy had always wanted to be. She was good enough. In a way, she was the greatest character Amy had ever created. She was the mask Amy put on when she needed a little confidence boost. Regina helped her strive to become a better writer with every word she put on paper. She was the new and improved Amy Cahill.
Filling her teacup to the brim, Amy plopped down into her chair and glanced warily at her computer keyboard and then at the clock. Five thirty.
Here goes nothing.
Dan Cahill wouldn’t exactly consider himself shy or unconfident or even lost for words. No, those traits were usually associated with his overachieving and sometimes overbearing stuttering sister. Tonight, however, was really making him reassess himself completely.
One does not simply create multi-million dollar video games and be nervous for dates, he thought to himself. The sweat stains around his arm pit area were adamant on proving him otherwise. Get a grip, and some dignity, while you're at it!
He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and drew in a long breath. This wasn’t going to work. It simply wouldn’t do. He must be sick or something, there was no way that he was having an actual fashion emergency. What was he, a Kabra clone?
He needed to calm down. It was just Veronica. His Veronica. And he was sure about this, he was really sure about this. In every man’s life, there comes a point like this one, where he must make a big decision - the right choice! - or simply walk away. All or nothing. So why was he so . . . nervous? It was pathetic really. Like, come on, he was a billionaire, living in the new and improved Cahill mansion, with his best friend - his cat. Who doesn’t want that?
He just needed to get through those four little words. Will you . . . will you . . . will you . . .
“GOD, CHEESES, SALADIN, FUUUUUU - “
Ian Kabra never really knew exactly what he was painting, all he really knew was that it had to be perfect. Today was proving to be the most odd day - work was easy, nobody dared to question him, there was some actual free time . . . Something wasn't right, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He never did like being out of the loop.
“Bernard, some water, if you please, I'm parched!” he called to his favorite butler.
“Certainly, Mr. Kabra.” It sure paid off being fabulously wealthy.
At twenty-seven he still couldn't believe his luck. Not only did he survive all of his crazy family's antics, but he - against all odds - actually thrived in the aftermath. Taking over his family's art dealership, leading the Lucian branch, tripling his wealth so that now eight generations of the Kabra line would never had to work again if they didn't want to . . . It took some fire, but he did it. He made himself proud. Well, prouder.
And now, he was left to enjoy the fruits of his labour. Peace, that is.
Ever since he was a child, he relied heavily on drawing and painting because it helped him think. He wouldn't ever admit it though - wouldn't want to get mistaken for some mindless bloody Janus. The prodigal son of Vikram and Isabel Kabra could do better than that, after all. But now that neither were there to constantly criticize his life choices, he could allow himself to enjoy from time to time. It was his salvation.
And today he was thinking about how wrong everything seemed. How there was something missing from his perfect little bubble. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but he could take a wild guess. Could it possibly be - no, he shall not think about that bloody idea.
He sighed, dejected. It's a phase. I'm just lon -
“Blast!” His hand had slipped, and his perfect picture was ruined.
“For God’s sake, Stephanie! You do not mix my line with Gucci! It gives people the wrong impression, don’t you know anything?!”
Natalie Kabra was not a patient woman, nor was she a woman that handled idiotic mishaps well. She did not go through all that very expensive, time consuming education to have her subordinates - that are getting paid handsomely to do their jobs, mind you - muck up her hard work.
“Lisa, DON’T YOU DARE put that red dress on her! She’ll look like a tomato! Honestly, is anyone here in their right mind today, or do you all have your heads shoved so far up your - ”
“Ms. Kabra!” rang the voice of her assistant. Just in the nick of time.
Natalie let out a deep breath and rubbed her temples. “What Julie, and make it snappy, today is not a good day for testing the limits of my patience.”
The mousy woman cowered a little under her glare. “Um, well, Milan called, and they said they can’t have the pieces in by tomorrow, but they can get them to you the day after. One of the models has gotten sick, so we’re short. Oh, and your brother called with a reminder to make sure that you eat lunch, he even sent some over - isn’t that sweet?”
The bejeweled Kabra woman looked distastefully at the brown paper take-out bag before snatching it out of her assistant’s hands.
“Tell Milan, that my fashion show is tomorrow, so if they want to get paid - no, no, if they want to LIVE they better find a way to get those pieces to me. Grab Meghan from the first floor, the pretty, skinny, not-to-bright blonde one, and say that she’s walking the runway tomorrow, offer her my congratulations. If she refuses, tell her that she’s walking, or she’s fired. As for my brother, call him back immediately and tell him to never send me peasant food again, I’m a grown woman with a very successful fashion line and magazine, I even have my own building to prove it. I can manage to buy my own lunch, thank you,” she said, as she took a bite out of her garlic bread. “Ugh, the carbs.” Turning on her heel, she took another bite and headed down one of the immaculate white hallways.
“Wait, Ms. Kabra! One more thing!” Julie piped up.
“I don’t care!” Natalie called.
“But it’s important! Mr. Beckett called and wanted to confirm your date tonight!” Natalie stopped abruptly. She closed her eyes, let out a deep sigh, and turned around to face her assistant.
“Send my apologies and cancel that,” she said. “I'm bored with him.”
It wasn't just him that she was bored with.
It was 11:55 PM in New York when the phone rang.
“You won't believe it but . . . I'm getting married, Ames.”
And Jake came home to a shattered teacup.
It was just another day . . .
Oh, the drama!!! What do you guys think? Let me know, and look out for the next chapter on Friday!