To wish upon a star - Part I
Legal Notice: It's not real. Don't read it if you're under 18, if it's illegal to read this type of material where you live, etc... You know the rest, I'm sure.
Disclaimer: As everyone suspects, I don't know any of the members of the boys-bands so this work of FICTION certainly doesn't reflect their sexual orientation.
Hi, everyone. This is my first attempt at creative writing of any sort, especially in this language. I'm actually half French , half Portuguese and also female: this is for those who are curious about me and, it also explains the lack of sex in this first chapter. Don't worry, things will spice up eventually.
I'll welcome any constructive comments; they will actually be decisive on whether or not I'll continue writing. So, DO E-MAIL ME, please, please, please. O.k., I think I've grovelled enough. Enjoy.
Part I___
How do you begin writing about your life? Do you start by retelling every single detail of your childhood and adolescence?
Or, do you limit yourself to that special moment in time that marked the beginning of everything, when your future was irrevocably altered?
I have chosen the latter because it's the only possible way to accurately transmit the importance of a single wish. Even now, after so many years, I can scarcely believe how such an insignificant event altered my life.
You must be thinking that I should probably "get on with it". But bear with me for a little while longer and forgive this old fool inability to examine the past objectively. I will now begin my tale.
<May 2001, Paris, France>
Dear Diary:
I am sixteen as of today. I should be happy but I'm not. I'm young, beautiful, smart, rich and have a loving family but I'm also miserable. Since this is my first entry in this diary, I going to introduce myself so even you can understand my apparently illogical sadness.
As I said before, I just turned sixteen. My name is Romeo, since my mother spent her entire pregnancy reading Shakespeare.
I know I shouldn't complain, it could have been worse, like Othello, but I can't help thinking that it could also have been better: what did she have against Richard, I wonder.
You're probably wandering why I'm complaining so much; it's really no an ugly name. But, can you imagine how many times I've been asked about my Juliet, after introducing myself to someone. It gets tiring after the first thousand, you know, especially, if you're gay like me.
Oh, did I forget to mention that I'm gay. Probably. But, I've always known and I already told my parents and they're completely ok with it, so it really doesn't stress that much now. Living in Europe also helps: I've never understood why there's such a negative respond to homosexuality in the States. Maybe, it's because Europe is far more civilised than North America. No, I'm just kidding (but it does make you wonder, doesn't it ?).
But, I'm procrastinating (Ai! You're going to need a dictionary for this one). Let's continue this introduction to the life of Romeo Duval: I'm obviously French, which also explains my English. It's a bit too scholastic and formal, no? It also helps that I'm a genius.
No, I'm not being completely narcissistic I assure you, I'm really a genius. I'm one of those children you see in documentaries that can read and write when they're two and understand the theory of chaos, before they reach puberty.
Now, I think I've covered the young and smart parts of my description. The rich and the beautiful I can both blame on my family. We're rich beyond description: the figures involved are quite obnoxious. And, both my parents are "drop dead gorgeous" (it's the right expression, isn't it?) and they both adore me. So, do you ask yourselves, why is this guy bitching about.
If you feel like strangling me, go ahead. I feel like it myself because I know I don't have a good reason for complaining so much.
Maybe, just one: I'm lonely. It doesn't matter how much my family loves me, I still need another kind of love. Being young, beautiful smart and rich also doesn't help.
I may be just sixteen but I feel much more mature than almost everyone my age. I also have the knack for intimidating people: you know, he's so young, so smart, so rich, so cute ...Why would he want me? Argh, I'll never be able to attract someone who will like for what I am and not for what I look like.
Summary: I've got everything going for me, yet I'm miserable.
I'm sitting in the garden, writing this list of complaints. It should probably be called a park, not a garden; my parents own a huge estate in the countryside, near Paris. So, I'm sitting down under a tree, all by myself. The sun is setting and its rays give the trees around me a golden glow. Such a romantic scene, don't you think? Still, I'll complain again: what's the use of such beauty, if you don't have anyone to share it with?
<Go ahead, you can kill me... I know, I don't know how lucky I am.>
It's dark already; the stars start to twinkle all around me and it's getting chilly out here. I'm up when, suddenly, I see a shooting star. For a second, I consider not wishing: I'm too old for this rubbish. But, what the heck, you never know.
So, I wish upon a star. Have you guessed what my wish was about? Keep guessing because I won't tell what it was. It will jinx
it, I'm sure.
I've wished and now, I feel foolish for hoping that it will come true. I'm still looking up when I hear a deep rumbling voice saying: "Your wish will be granted, my child. You just have to believe and be positive; everything will fine".
End of Part I
I know I should end with a cliffhanger. I hate them as well but I couldn't resist, so sue me... or E-MAIL ME at ninon24@yahoo.fr . Bye for now.