Generation 5: Chapter four

One of the things in this world that irked me the most would probably be power outages. Technology had advanced to a point where we could be prepared for such an occasion, like back-up generators and whatnot. And yet, though every student in our dormitory required power to work on their assorted projects - be it on the computer or in the kitchen - there was no back-up plan for us.

Just as I was right in the middle of a chapter of one of my text books (I had trouble sleeping and surprisingly the stuff in that book was boring enough to make me sleepy), everything went dark, and I was left with only a slight hum in the air from the electronics that had suddenly lost connection to the power supply line.

“How could things get any worse?” some may ask. Well… The answer was pretty simple: Both Cara and I were afraid of the dark. When I was ten years old, I went along on a camping trip with Cara and her ever-so-rich parents who wanted to get a feel for the outdoors. We quickly made friends with the neighboring campers, and the three boys that also went along with them. At night, we all huddled together in front of the campfire and told scary ghost stories. Some of the tales were pretty traumatizing, and not made any less scary as one of the guys sneaked up on us, and our screams were heard all over the campsite.

Ever since that trip, we’ve preferred to stay indoors and always have a light on by our side.

The sudden knock at the door and the erratic twisting of the knob brought me back to reality, and pushed my heart rate to its limits. “W-who is it?” I stuttered, searching for something in the room to defend myself with. There were plenty of thick books around that, if aimed at someone’s head, could do a lot of damage.

“It’s me, you idiot!” sighing, I sneaked towards the door and let Cara into the room. “The hell did you lock the door for? “

“Why?! I’ll tell you why: The power is out and you know what that means,” I hissed, theatrically throwing my arms up into the air.

Suddenly, she realized the implication of that simple statement. “Oh! You mean, like…that time when we were little…and…and-“

I winced, shaking my head quickly as if that would get rid of the memory that was filling my mind. “No need for us to relive that awful day, okay.” As I stood near the window, staring out onto the campus grounds, something odd dawned on me. All of the buildings around the campus still had their lights on. Either they had some alternative energy source, or the problem was just with our dorm. That shouldn't have been the case. The whole situation seemed iffy, yet I had no time to consider all the explanations. Next to me, Cara was shivering, though I couldn't be certain she was scared like I was. She was still clothed only in a towel, so that could explain the movement. “It’s just a little power outage, nothing to worry about, okay, now don’t-“

“Oh my god, we’re gonna DIE!”

 “-freak out…”

Way to be a drama queen, Cara. 

Now that the whole question on whether or not she was afraid was answered, the next step to consider would be actions. You’d think that when such a “catastrophe” would take place, a lot of the students would leave their rooms in protest, or there’d at least be some kind of racketeering on the lower levels. Only silence filled the night, putting both of us girls on edge. It was unlikely, no, impossible, for that to happen, plain and simple. Something was going on, but the thing remained unclear, and neither us really wanted to know.

Minute by minute passed by, the ticking of the clock on the wall clearly audible. Even the slightest creak of the floor made our heads turn. Every few seconds Cara reached for the light switch to test it out, but with no success. A human being only had so much patience, and in this situation, I felt like I was reaching my limits. We could be called “grown women”, and yet, there we were cowering inside our room, wary of every sound and movement outside our window. Enough was enough – something had to change. “This is bullshit,” I finally broke the silence and stomped my way to the door, throwing it wide open. “Are you coming or not?”

Cara sat in the corner by herself, still clinging to the towel around her middle. “What do you mean…? Where are you going?”

That was a good question, though he would never know why. Up and till that point, I hadn't exactly thought out a plan, even though I was considered the brains of our duo, while Cara had the looks and the charm. If “Act now, plan later” worked for other people, it could sure as hell work for us.

There we were, flaunting our new found bravado, risking our hides by treading carefully down the stairs. All the while I kept an eye out for anything suspicious…but there were none. Or maybe it was the fact that there was nothing that was suspicious. No hysterical giggles, no attempts at conversation from the people in their rooms…

Either we missed an invitation for a major party and that’s where everyone went, or something fishy was going on. All would be explained in time, right? It helped to hope, at least.

I bumped into Cara’s frozen frame in front of me.  “What?”

She was shivering again, more uncontrolled this time around. Tip-toeing, I hid behind the wall as she pointed with a manicured nail towards the interior of the living room. “Th-th-there’s…it’s…just look!” Knowing she was on the verge of screaming, I cupped her hands in front of her mouth, speaking in hushed tones to comfort her. “Do not make a sound.”

Her protests were muffled against my hand, but some of it was distinguishable. “You just made a sound,” was the closest translation I could give. As my hand loosened, she pointed at the room again. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

Boy, was she right.

Perched against the wall was Devin – no longer called “Cara’s future husband” by me as she threw a dirty sock at me and I really didn’t want to experience that again – seemingly motionless. The part of me that was still capable of rational thinking knew this was the climax of tonight’s events: This was where everything would unfold. The obvious question still remained: “What was going on?”

“Do you think he’s dead?” Cara asked.

“Yes, Cara, I think someone hit him over the head with a crowbar then turned off the power so that no one would find the body."

“Really?” her eyes were piqued with interest.

My shoulders slumped as I sighed. “No, Cara, there’s this thing that exists that’s called sarcasm.”

“How the hell are you sarcastic when there’s a guy lying there in his undies, and we don’t know what happened to him?”

“Well, you always wanted the opportunity to see his abs, so I don’t know why you’re complaining. Be my guest, go and check.”

On the tips of her toes, she inched forward, actually taking me seriously and walking closer to see what he looked like half-naked. All the while, there was still the suspicion of this whole thing nagging at my mind, begging for an explanation…

And then, that explanation I wanted came, just not in the form that I expecting.

I couldn’t accurately explain the sound that originated behind us, but if I had to give a word for it, it would be “inhuman”. It was a high-pitched screech that stood in complete contrast to the silence that filled the room, and the fact that it was right by our ears made it even worse.

Needless to say, we screamed.

And then, things started to make sense, as Devin literally jumped up and high-fived he guy behind us, grinning like a loon the entire time. They had planned this.

It was a prank.

Just a prank - set specially for us.

“Got’cha,” Raymond chuckled, and Devin joined in. “Prepare to see your selves on YouTube, ‘cause this whole thing was recorded.” I waited for Cara to insert some snide remark that would save us all the shame. She had a talent for coming up with such original retorts that no one could talk her down. Only the sounds of the crickets were audible outside as I waited for her to answer. There was no sign of my best friend in the living room, or even a hint of where she had gone to. No one could blame her, I guess. She was standing there, butt naked, with only a towel that kept anybody and everybody from knowing that.

In the meantime, the lights started flickering on, and muffled giggles could be heard in the hallway. Devin and Raymond were still standing there with smiles on their faces, expecting me to say something. “So…?”

Turning towards the study room of the dorm, I left them with a threatening message. “We’re gonna get our revenge, and you’re not gonna like it.” 

“Oh, I look forward to it!” Devin called after me. “I’m digging this whole rapport that’s developing between the two of us. Not sure about Ray here though…”

I heard Raymond’s laughter from afar. “I’m surprised you know such big words, Dev.”  

“What do you mean? Are you insinuating us jocks are dumb? Lemme tell you something…”

Revenge on those two loons would be a lot easier than one might think. You had the jock, Devin, and the nerd, Raymond. The fact that the two put aside their differences to pull off such a prank was a miracle, and meant that their relationship was fragile - already the “bromance” was crumbling. 

Stomping up the stairs while the room was filled with other students suppressing their laughter or taking of photos of my supposed “ashamed” face wasn’t an easy task, though. Some people might feel flattered that they went to such great lengths to prank us and put us in the spotlight, but it was done with the intention of making us look bad.

And at university, like in high school, your image mattered, at least while you were in the company of other people that were your own age. This stunt had a huge impact on our reputation, and a horrible at that. So the only way to clear our names and regain a bit of dignity was to settle the score.

In other words: Get revenge.

Do something similar, or even the same, to crush their inflated egos once and for all.

The only problem was…how? How could we piss them off that we would look like the heroes of the day?

Back in our dorm room, Cara (fully clothed this time) sat in the corner of the room, and she didn’t exactly look happy. “Dude,” she simply stated.

“What? It’s like your insinuating it’s my fault, all with that one word, yikes.”

“No, no, I know none of us is to blame, and it’s all on those two idiots, and maybe the rest of the dorm… I’m just thinking of tomorrow, y’know, when everyone sees the video and we’re gonna be super popular…but not in the way I wanted to be. Man, that’ll be rough. Can you imagine how people will laugh and shit? I don’t want to stay here if it means I’ll be known as ‘Cara the Cry Baby’ or something like that, who screams and runs away when they’re scared.”

With one hand I gently massaged my forehead. “You have a point, and…that’s why I think we should get even.”

“You mean like, get them to scream like a little girl too?”

“No! Okay, maybe... Just, let’s do something worse than what they did, that’ll leave sort of a scar. Screw the whole reputation thing around campus; I just want to deflate their inflated egos.” I paced around the room, my eyes searching for something that could help us. “Hey Cara,” I nearly laughed as a thought struck me, my gaze focused on the wall we had repainted. “Just how good are you with a spray can?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why do I get the feeling I don’t like where this is going?”

“You probably won’t. We’ll need disguises.”

Okay, I lied. It’s not like we really needed disguises, however, we had to be exceptionally sneaky for this plan to work. Unfortunately, Cara didn't share my brain and didn’t know I was joking. So even though she donned nerdy glasses and almost-khaki colored pants with an assortment of tops, I didn't try to stop her. It was too priceless a moment that I even snapped a photo of it to pull out on a sad day so I could have a quiet chuckle.

My plan was rather ingenious, if not unethical. Some might even call it a criminal offense…yeah, it was a criminal offense to tell the truth. Vandalizing another person’s property wasn’t taken lightly at all at Claremont University or by the police even, but playing by the rules didn’t seem to be working out for us. It was time to throw the rule book out the window and get our hands dirty - literally. 

Devin, the one with the biggest ego of the two, the one that’s vain, was our target. We wouldn’t be targeting him directly – no that would probably add more fuel to the fire and increase his popularity – but rather target his room, the place where he woos girls and get them out of their pants. Sure, he could find some other place to crash, but at least he and maybe someone else would see it, and the sight would stun them. That was enough for us.

Cara stood in silence by my side, watching my every move as I started my “work of art” on the wall. Silence wasn’t normal at all for Cara…something must have been weighing heavily on her mind to be able to shut her like that.

“I’m worried about you,” she finally whispered.

That wasn’t the sentence I was expecting. “What? Why would you be?”

“Usually I’m the one that does the crazy stuff and you try to hold me back.  This is unlike you, and you’re so full of confidence. What changed so suddenly?"

“Oh, em…” Words failed me as soon as she asked that question.  Maybe it was because I realized that the self-confidence that I had gained came from me not standing in Cara’s shadow the entire time. I got to be the real me, not the person Cara was shaping me into all these years. What I had become because of Cara was someone that was afraid of the littlest things, that couldn't even get up in the morning without checking under her bed for some kind of monster. On the other hand, there were things about Cara that I was thankful for. She had become the person I could depend on most, who served as a comforting ear for all my heartaches, and helped me enjoy life to its fullest while putting my past behind me. 

Though I loved to be her best friend, it was time that I faced the reality of the situation.

Lying was all that could save me from this ordeal. I knew my best friend was emotionally unstable, even on a good day. There was no way in hell would she take my thoughts lightly. She might even spit in my face for good measure. “Maybe it’s just this whole university experience that’s doing it, eh he…” Blood came rushing to my cheeks as the lie slipped from my lips, but Cara seemed oblivious to it all, nodding thoughtfully. 

“That’s good to hear; because I hope you’re gonna have a good excuse for when we get caught. At any moment, someone can come walking through that door and see all of this.”

“Rubbish, I made sure to check the guys’ schedule. Raymond has no reason to come here, so I ruled him out. Devin has practice at the gym most of the day, and he has a late evening class if I remember correctly.”

“You don’t sound too certain of yourself,” she pointed out.

I sighed. “Please stop poking holes in my plan, and grab a spray can from my bag. You can start helping by spraying shenanigans all over these walls alright?”

Thank goodness Devin was away for the entire day, or we would have been caught red-handed. See, we kept most of the art work simple, but when we ran out of space on the walls, it all just looked incomplete. His room wasn’t ruined enough, Cara deducted. There was still a bit of paint left in the cans, and neither of us wanted to waste precious money by throwing that away.

Well, there was always the floor to paint…

At the end of that day, we probably ruined our lungs with all the paint fumes and wasted valuable time of our lives, but it would be worth it. We wouldn’t see his face when he entered his room and see the damage that was done, but sooner or later, there’d be a confrontation, and I looked forward to that.

With a grin, I looked at the now-stained wall. Cara was on her smartphone the entire time, texting and whatnot. It was only till she came closer to me that I started paying more attention to what she was doing. “I posted some photos of this on Facebook and tumblr. I saw some peeps take those pics to twitter…  It’s getting a LOT of likes and responses.”

“Which means we might want to skedaddle now, right?”

“Yeah…”

“What are we gonna do about Raymond?” I asked as I shut the door behind me. “He needs a bit of payback too.”

“Leave that one to me. I have some smoke bombs that I got from one of the science students, and they need someone to test it out.”

“Sorry that I asked,” I coughed, feeling a twinge of regret as we entered our own room. This whole situation was a bit extreme, and while justified, was it the right thing to do? I had been the mastermind behind the whole “revenge” thing, yes, and it was probably stupid for me to even feel this…this torn, I guess.  Back when I was a little girl, and my real parents were still alive, even my mom wouldn’t defend me if I did something wrong. “I’m sorry we had to yell at you like that, sweetie, but you have to realize what’s right and what’s wrong,” she used to say. How I still remembered her words and even her voice was beyond me. 

Anyhow, our reputations might have taken a beating, but we weren’t kicked out of the social club altogether. There was still a bonfire scheduled for the evening that I was hell-bent on attending along with Cara. And if we happened to see our nemesis’ there, it would only be so much better.

With most of the day spent spray painting, there wasn’t exactly any time left for preparing some fancy outfit for the bonfire – at least it was in the backyard of our own dorm and it was pretty casual. I skipped down the stairs and started pushing my way through a crowd of students that had no intention of moving any time soon. That was the most irritating part of a mixed-gender dormitory. Guys would chat up a girl right in the hallway, with not a care in the world whether or not they were blocking the path of someone else.

“Sorry! Excuse me! Passing through! Get out of the way!” I hollered as I ducked through the groups. Literally falling through the door, I breathed in the pure, night air, much to the amusement of a few guys outside. The fire had already been lit, and a couple of nerds were already throwing test tubes on it, causing the flames to surge into the night sky. Was it beautiful? Yes. Was it safe? Not a chance. There was only one seat left at a bench close to the fire – thankfully, it was Cara that was keeping that spot open for me. “How’d you get here so quickly?” I inquired.

“I climbed out a window in Ray’s room,” she shrugged.

“You’re kidding me.”

She shook her head while smiling. “No, I really did. Someone was at the door right as the stink bombs went off, and I really didn’t want to explain everything that we had done, so…”

No one could blame Cara for her sense of self-preservation, but as Raymond and Devin approached, obviously pissed, I kind of wished she had explained the whole thing. It would have saved us from this much-awaited confrontation that both of us had been anticipating, though we didn’t think it would take place right here.

“Are you two proud of yourself?” Devin almost spat.

It was time for some smooth talking. “In general, yeah, but it depends on what you’re referring to.” My best friend cringed next to me, stifling a giggle. 

Raymond tapped his foot impatiently. “How about the stench left in my room, or the mess you made in Devin’s room?”

This time Cara took over for me. “Oh, that. We saw that… Do you know who did that, ‘cause I’d totally love to give that person a high five?”

“We’re looking at the people who did that,” the annoyance was clear in Devin’s voice.

“Hey! You can’t just accuse us of doing something so destructive just because…because we might have a vendetta against you two.”

“Oh really?” Raymond interjected. “You were the ones that posted it on tumblr and Facebook. I think that’s evidence enough to get both of you kicked out of this place.”

It was my turn again to go on the defense of our little game. “There were posts on twitter too, and that wasn’t us. So you see, those pics we posted were ones we got from other people, who probably got it from somebody else and…you see where this is going, I hope?” 

Our calm expressions and relaxed body language was seemingly enough to drive Devin to the end of his patience. I half expected him to explode, much like Draco Malfoy used to do in Harry Potter with that whole “My father will hear about this!” line. “This isn’t over,” muttering under his breath, he pulled Raymond by his sleeve towards the building, leaving us to laugh freely.

But one couldn’t help but drive the sting of defeat even deeper. “It is, and we won!”

This whole situation of tit-for-tat exchanges had the potential to, well, cause lots of serious damage all around campus if it was allowed to continue. I wasn’t prepared to pay for the paint job we did in Devin’s room, however, I was interested in calling a truce to save us some money and any more embarrassments against our reputation. Problem was I wasn't entirely sure Devin would go for that.

My phone gave an emphatic tweet, alerting me to a message. I smirked as I scrolled through the text. Raymond was going to turn into a sort of “human Switzerland”, as he politely asked that we exclude him from any other plans that we might have concocted. He continued to explain how he was dragged into this whole thing by Devin, and that he felt pretty threatened by the latter’s jock-complex, so he gave up without much protest.

It was up to me to make the effort, so, with a sense of uncertainty, I sent a text to Devin, instructing him to meet me at neutral territory, namely the kitchen.

Not too long after the text was sent, Devin came strolling by, propping himself up on a counter which I was about to clean. “You called?”

“I had no choice,” I admitted with a shrug. “This war was getting out of control, and lives could be endangered if we continue.”

“Nice dramatic touch you added there. Who says I want to stop waging war? If we’re going negotiate a peace, there should be a compromise. I stop the attacks from my side, while you…” His open-ended sentence left room for several interpretations, all of which were quite alarming to even consider.

“What do I have to do…?” I frowned.

“You have to agree to something, though I don’t think you’d be very eager to once I tell you what it is.”

~*~

“Have you lost your mind? You’re going on a date with Devin Jameson?! The Devin Jameson?! The one that-“

Sighing as I brushed my hair, I rolled my eyes at her, interrupting her mid-sentence. “I know what he’s famous for around campus, Cara, but you have to remember I agreed to this only to make peace because of our whole game a few weeks back, and not because I want to go. Devin asked that I be the one to, well, ‘make the sacrifice’, and go out with him tonight. Those were his terms. We just have to learn to live with it, okay?”

Her head hung close to her chest. “I’m your best friend, Krissy; I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“That’s great, and I love you for doing that, but I’m just as old as you, I can take care of myself. No Ladies man will take advantage of me.” As I spoke, I started applying a thin layer of lip gloss, and patched up some spots on my face with foundation. I wasn’t making a fuss over this whole ‘date thing’. My hairstyle was kept simple, and my dress was casual and didn’t reveal too much leg to suggest something. With all of this in mind, I really couldn’t understand why Cara was worried.

“There’s a reason they call him a ‘Ladies man’, Kris,” she shifted her weight to her other leg, seemingly focusing her attention on something on the floor. “He gets girls to agree to things they really don’t want to do…”

“I told you I can-“

“Oh come on, do you really think that much of yourself? You’re delusional if you think he likes you like that! What can a guy as hot as Devin see in you?” Cara lost it then and there, her eyes no longer showing concern.

In that moment, I realized her real motives behind this conversation: She was jealous.

And I saw just what a hateful personality she really had.

 “I’m gonna leave now,” I whispered and picked up my purse from the end table, fleeing through the door, down the stairs and exiting through the front door as quick as my feet could carry me, not even bothering to look back to see if she realized what she had said.  What she had said hurt, deeply. Intentional or not, it was uncalled for, and it sickened me to know that just because she was jealous of the fact that I was going out with Devin on a date, she thought she could be mean and confront me like that.

True, she had a crush on him, but it wasn’t as if anything would come front that. It was just like any other high school crush she had which we could laugh over now. What hurt most was that Cara thought I wasn’t worthy to be dated, or that’s what I got from that. It proved to me that she thought of herself as a queen, while the rest of the world had to be her servants... She even thought that way of me, her own freaking best friend.

But I wasn’t going to let her comments get in the way of me having a good time. Maybe she was just being moody, or maybe she didn’t mean it, who knows. All I knew was that I felt butterflies in my stomach as I rounded the corner and saw Devin flashing a smile at me.  “Hi,” I said, giving a small wave.

Devin extended his hand, holding it out for me to take. “Hey there, Miss Kristine – now, seeing as you brokered this peace, you have to abide by the rules, am I right?”

I cleared my throat, hoping it wouldn’t break. “Y-yeah…”

“Well then, how about you take my hand and we go for a walk?”

One couldn’t exactly say no to that as I did agree to that. Even though it was just a silly agreement we had come to, I found myself half-excited to go out like this. Dating wasn’t my forte at all, and to be on one, to get that experience, was thrilling to say the least.

“So…,” I started, breaking the silence, “what do you have planned for this evening?”

“No, no, no, one thing at a time there, Miss Kristine.” His formality was something to be concerned of, and Cara’s earlier warning rang in my ears. This was a guy that was notorious for making girls feel good about themselves and that he was their knight in shining armor. Reality was, the very next day, they’d be dumped, abandoned with the feeling that they were somehow unworthy. Then again, there were girls that loved that feeling, because to be with Devin Jameson was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

No matter what he did or said, I had to stay strong. I couldn’t let myself succumb to the fluttery feeling I had whenever I was around him. 

“I was kind of hoping for a confirmation…,” eyebrow arched, he looked at me for an answer.

“I’m sorry, what? I must not have heard the question?”

“That’s alright. I asked if you’re a music fanatic, to put it bluntly.”

Out of sheer force of habit, I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I guess you could say that. I mean, I’m majoring in it, and I’m hopefully gonna make a career out of it somehow, so yeah, it’s safe to say I love music very much.”

His sudden smile caught me off guard. “Close your eyes then, I have a surprise.”

“R-really? I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Well why not?”

“Because there’s people out there that are predators and psychos and I’m not sure if you’re one of them or not.”

Jokingly, he placed his hand on his chest, as if swearing an oath. “I promise I’m not gonna lead you to some abandoned warehouse and harvest all your organs.”

“And that promise is supposed to make everything better?”

“You’re not going to be an easy one, are you?” he shook his head. I couldn’t be sure if he meant that as a joke, or if he was serious, up to his usual plan to woo a girl. To be honest, I didn’t care too much at that point. Already I was having some fun, and that was what I was after. “Alright, alright, it is right over there, so just follow me.”

His invitation exploited the biggest flaw anyone could have: human curiosity. Coupled with my half-artistic nature, it was an accident waiting to happen. I couldn’t refuse such a tempting offer, and followed him.

“Tada! This is it!” He unveiled his version of a ‘surprise’ – it was a guitar fitted with wood, not one of those modern electric guitars that I disliked. “You told me that you know nothing about me and that makes us acquaintances, still strangers even. This is something you now know about me. I play guitar, quite well actually. Here, lemme show you.”

His hands moved over the guitars strings with practiced ease, but the sound that emanated wasn’t as smooth as his hand movements. The tune wasn’t harmonious, to say the least, and I had a sudden urge to cover my ears with my hands. “Please stop,” I laughed, taking the guitar from him.

“What?”

“Devin, be honest for once. That wasn’t good.”

He sighed, yet his demeanor still remained playful. “I never said I was good enough to play in a band. If I was five years old, my skills would have been applauded. So you see, it all depends in which context you place it. 

With the way this whole ‘date’ thing was heading south long before it even began, it was hard to have some faith in what he promised, but a deal was a deal, and I followed him, no longer holding hands. Devin was a good few feet in front of me, his expression almost giddy. We were in an area that was familiar to me, specifically one building. It was the place where I practiced piano in the afternoons when I didn’t have class.

And it happened to have a bowling alley on the first floor that opens at night.

“I’d do the thing where I yell ‘tada!’, but that only works the first time, and I blew that,” he gestured towards the sign that stood next to the building, then towards the door. “Are you in the mood for some bowling?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” pursing my lips, I tapped my chin, the image of someone deep in thought, “there aren't exactly any bowling alleys in Appaloosa Plains, so I’ve never…” 

“No! You’ve never went bowling?! That’s insane. Come, come, this is something you have to experience first-hand to understand why it’s so great.”

Yeah, I knew Devin majored in Athletics, that he’d one day play for some football team, and later become a spokesperson for it when he’s too old to play, or even become a coach, but seeing him so excited over a thing as simple as bowling was rather surprising. He viewed it as another type of sport to master, and clearly, he loved it, about as much as I loved music. The little things in life make it worth it for me, and this was another ‘little thing’. The lies he told people about himself were well-known, but this was something real, and he could never take that back.

There was almost no protest from me as Devin literally nudged me into the building, signalling an attendant for God knows what reason. Three seconds later, he returned with a bowling ball in his hands, dropping it into my awaiting arms. “Whoa. It’s heavy.”

“What did you expect?” he chuckled and took a step back to observe. With the ball balanced neatly in my hands, I prepared to launch it toward the bowling pins. It looked a lot easier than it actually was, or maybe that’s just because I’ve never tried it before. Regular amateurs probably looked like professionals when I looked at them.

With my eyes focused on the challenge in front of me, I felt the need to whip out a whiteboard and start doing calculations on it, trying to figure out the perfect angle and speed. The sudden touch of cold fingers at the back of my neck and two arms with the strength of bears encircling my neck didn’t make it any easier. “Uh, what are you doing?”

He pressed his lips into my hair, whispering into it. “Distracting you – word around campus is that I’m good at it.”

“Well, try this out for distraction,” I shook him off and with a reckless use of power and no care for the fluidity of the action, the ball went spiralling across the floor. 

Luck was on my side that day. Paired with the distraction from Devin and the lack of any mathematical equation to govern the action, it was a true miracle that all of the pins fell.

“Take that, every guy that says that I’m horrible at everything I do!” I called out, turning to poke Devin in his face that no longer smiled or seemed cocky.

“Beginner’s luck,” he brushed it off, finding something interesting to look at near the door.

“Oh, that’s just some shitty excuse because your ego can’t handle the fact that I beat you at your own game, and that you’ve had hours of practice while I was born a pro.”

“I think this victory has gone to your head,” his eyes narrowed.

“Maybe, but that’s not the point. The point is that, even with your whole sultry voice thing which was your feeble attempt to distract me, I got it right. That just goes to show that you, Devin Jameson, are not as irresistible as everyone claims, and that I’m going to be the one to say no to you at the end of this evening.”

Brows furrowed, he slowly shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You used this as an opportunity to make me sleep with you, right?”

He didn’t make any attempt to reply to that. I knew I was right. All the signs were there that made it obvious. It was kind of funny that he didn’t even try to make those attempts slightly subtler than they were. “Y’know, I was having loads of fun up until this point.”

“Is that another way of saying this is the end of our disastrous date?”

Smirking, he shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it disastrous, but yeah. I would, however, love to re-schedule another one, no strings attached.”

Purse in hand I stood staring him in the eyes, not knowing what to say to him, because I didn’t know what I was feeling. It wasn’t an attraction towards him – no, I had a hunch that feeling felt different, but hey, how was I to know? This was just some kind of excitement I felt, as interacting of him or any other guy for that matter was new to me. So I returned his smile, unsure of what the best course of action would be. “I don’t know what I should do, but surprisingly enough, you’ve been a lot more honest than my own best friend has been tonight, and I just…I just want to say thanks for that.”

Instead of waving like I did previously that afternoon, I pecked him on the cheek before leaving and calling for a ride. Walking back to my dorm in heels while it was dark didn’t seem all that glamorous to me.

“That’s a ‘maybe’, right?” he yelled as I climbed into a cab. Surprisingly enough, the university had set up a taxi service for us students. It was still in its beta stage, but the feedback was looking good. Not that I would be using it, only for emergencies that is. I winked as Devin stood on the sidewalk, hands on his head, probably wondering how the hell I managed to blow him off like that. Heh, I didn’t even know how I did that myself. For all the worrying Cara had done (and even I had my doubts whether or not I could be charming), I had done it. I had been able to stay true to who I was. 

The scenery sped by at an alarming rate, but soon the car came to a halt right in front of the dorm. All I wanted to do after climbing out of that cab was get up those two floors, get to my own room and fall face first into my bed. Wishing for it wouldn’t make it reality, though, as I still had an awkward confrontation with Cara coming up if she were still in the room. Why, oh why couldn’t things be simpler than they were? Back in Appaloosa Plains, I never had to worry about so many projects, about guys, or about my best friend being a total bitch.

Then again, I wouldn’t have grown as much if I did stay in the quiet countryside, where I would have been nurtured and kept in that house of the Ferrell’s until the day that they died, and even after that, I would probably have been too afraid to leave it after that.

Like a criminal seeking out his target, I peeked into my own room and scanned the inside, only to be surprised and see that it was empty. Well, maybe I could get a good night’s rest after all. My heels were killing me, which was the only piece of clothing I removed before launching myself onto my bed, only to collide with a piece of paper. “Oof,” the paper was crumbled under the pressure of my face, but the words on it were still perfectly legible as I pulled it out for inspection.

On it was a small message, left by none other than Cara.

I’m so, so sorry.
I feel horrible for what I said.
It was a load of bullshit, and I don’t know where it came from.
You’re my best friend, and I don’t want that to change.
With love,

                Cara

I didn’t know what to think at that point.

The day had been long and tiring, filled with lots of unexpected things.

For now, I was going to turn in for the night, and leave all my worries to be worried about the next day.

A bit of nostalgia ~ how time changes things

This is far from an update, I know, but I was just shifting through some old posts of my 100 baby challenge with Destiny (long before I did this legacy, for those of you who don't know), and I just realized...

...What a complete idiot I was back then. :D

Back in the year 2011, when I started the whole challenge thing, I was actually 14, almost 15 years old, and looking back, you'd think that someone that old would be able to write a lot better than I did. I'm pretty surprised I got so many followers. >.>

I made so many mistakes that I want to kick myself because of it. I mostly wrote "your" instead of "you're", and I did this thing where I said "Kudos" at the end of the post but I didn't even know what it meant (and I really dunno why I added that even). I hardly wrote captions for the pictures, too. I was following the example of other baby challenges, thinking that if I were like them, I'd be a good writer...

And don't get me started on the pictures! Here are some visual aids: 

This is how I used to take pictures back in 2011. It was low quality, there were freakin' holes in the roof that I looked past, and it didn't look very...interesting, to say the least.

And this is how I take pictures now. I'm not saying they're perfect or anything...

They just look a lot better than what I used to take - at least, to me.

I've realized just how time really does change things: You gain experience while doing something, you learn from old mistakes, you make new friends who influence you...

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that, these three years of writing have had a positive influence on me, and I dunno, I want to thank those who take the time to read my story and even leave some feedback. I learned from you guys not to try and be like other writers, and now I'm doing my own thing which I'm proud of.

This post sounds so selfish which wasn't how I intended to make it sound, so I'm gonna shut up now.

<3

*hugs for everyone*

Generation 5: Chapter three

For once I wished that something like an invisibility cloak existed. Devin acted like a small kid on Christmas who just got an amazing present; his eyes alight with interest and...I couldn't quite place it...amazement? I couldn't care less when a guy would look at me usually, but with him, it was a lot harder to ignore. His gaze was on me like super glue, making it impossible to act normal without accidentally looking in his direction.

So if all else failed…

Running away would be a good idea, right?

Right at that moment, where he had previously been blocking my escape route, a drunken student conveniently bumped into him, spilling the contents of his drink all over Devin’s shirt and starting an argument that gave me the window of opportunity to get the hell out of there…

But it didn't end up being as easy as that.

Once the music stopped the one thing that fueled the attendees to keep swaying their hips and not fall flat on the floor, a row formed. All around me, insults were thrown like sharp stones and I had no shield to hide behind. With an apologetic smile plastered all over face, I gave a weak wave goodbye, repeatedly excusing myself for being ‘too drunk to operate any machinery anymore’. Not saving any time to check what the reaction was upon that, I ducked through one of the doors and ran towards the bathroom.

The chaos that ensued outside could have made the headlines of the university’s newspaper: Friends became foes, ramming into each other and tumbling into the pool, while a group of girls started a cat fight, earning the admiration of a few nerds that sneaked into the party. I could have wept for humanity – who could believe that the species that sent up a spacecraft and landed on the moon could behave like this?

If this was what alcohol did to a person, I never wanted to touch it. Call me stupid, or unwilling to face reality, but I was still clinging desperately to the idea that the world held no evil, and that people were truly good in their hearts…God, I’m an idiot. Repeating that in my own head made me sound like I was high on some sort of experimental drug that was probably meant to make people a little bit happier.

“Hello there,” a sultry voice greeted me from behind. The voice was so smooth, so enigmatic; it literally gave me chills at the back of my neck and made my knees buckle slightly with surprise or maybe even fear, making me forget all about my quarrels that I had been pondering. It was impossible that a voice so dark and mysterious could belong to a human being, and yet it did (to an extremely handsome one at that, too).

“And what would your name be?” he asked.

Don’t say a word.

“Come on, I won’t bite.”

Not a peep, nope.

No one would dare debate that I didn't have some social anxiety issues, albeit small, when it came to speaking guys that were, as Cara would say, “drop dead gorgeous”. So when I felt him caressing my skin and the pressure of his hand on my shoulder…needless to say, I flipped.

“’Scuse me,” avoiding his eyes at all costs, I rushed towards the bathroom door that was calling my name and would guarantee me safety – at least for a little while. 

The door closed behind me with an audible click, signalling I was safe. A few seconds went by, and no determined male was knocking at the door, demanding my presence.

Crisis averted – finally.

My legs seemed to agree, as my knees no longer knocked against each other, and I was left in silence to get out of my bathing suit and dressed into something a little more suitable for walking around campus.  

I had to stifle a laugh as I caught sight of my own expression in the mirror. The fear had left my limbs, but was still sculpted into my facial features. “Dear lord, when am I going to stop running away from my problems?” It had turned into my modus operandi during my high school years, a habit that I wasn't likely to get rid of, and because there was still the issue of getting back home without bumping into the almighty wooer…why stop now?

With the door opened just a fraction, just big enough to see what was going on outside, I slipped out as soon as I knew it was safe…

...and bolted.

Several hours later

"Gah!" I pulled back from the sight of Cara's painted fingernails in my face, hiding behind my arm.

"Hey, sleepy head! What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?"

Her smile grew wider with each passing second. "What do I mean? You’re not serious. It’s already twelve in the afternoon. In the time that has passed, I’ve already gotten spray tanned, got my nails done, had lunch, went to class…that’s pretty much it.”

A quick peek at the clock on the wall confirmed the time. “Jeepers, it must’ve been all the running I did last night that tired me out…,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Cara got to her knees and stood up, seemingly irked that I wasn't the happiest person I could be in the morning. What can I say? The morning is evil. “Could you at least explain one thing to me: Why did you crash on the floor instead of your bed, which is right over yonder?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

“Well, when you get an idea,” she paused to catch her breath, “Don’t tell me about it. I’m too scared to hear what the reason could be.”

I gave a feeble wave as Cara stomped out of the room, my face still finding comfort from the flower-shaped rug we had on our floor. “I had a nice time chatting to you. We should totally have those more often.” Having more time to lie on the floor and snooze was all I wanted at that point, but with the minutes ticking by, and a class scheduled in just under half an hour, there was no point in trying to not get up.

At least I had a reason to get up and be excited. For once, us musical students were excused from all the rambling of the artsy people and allowed to get in some practice time with our favorite instrument. I was someone who had absolutely no talent in sketching or painting, or even writing, making it was pretty hard to get a good grade in most of my classes. Even though most of the students were novices themselves and far away from creating a masterpiece, it was hard not to notice the curious glances in my direction and at the monstrosity I was drawing. But, I wasn't going to be discouraged. A few extra hours behind the drawing board and some time with my nose in a book studying different textures and styles for painting should hopefully improve my skills, with the emphasis on ‘hopefully’. The teachers themselves have raised eyebrows at my work, and have each tried to politely tell me that art and I just weren't compatible.

What they, the so-called "professionals", kept forgetting was that art wasn't just limited to physical creations. I was talented in a different field of art (at least I thought so), which the lecturers weren't keen on catering for. 

It was shocking to learn later on that the university had no musical room, or even an empty room that wasn't being used. Instead, Claremont University was dependent upon the local hangout spots that had all the equipment for a musician like me. In fact, I was the only person there that really wanted to make a career out of music. Sure, there was someone else, but she didn't seem very serious about it.

Anyhow, just a quick bike’s ride away was where I would be spending most of my day at. I never did get the name of the building, the manager being a foreigner with an extremely heavy accent. On the first floor it resembled your typical hangout, with a bar stocked with drinks, a pool table in the corner and a couple of dart boards that covered parts of the wall. The second floor was a whole different story, and right in the corner was where I ended up practicing.

One really bad habit of mine was that when I started playing the piano, I lost myself in the music and paid no attention to my surroundings. A guy with a knife could steal up on me and I wouldn't even hear him. It was only when a shadow fell upon the wooden keys that I stopped and realized I had company.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Raymond Carter casually leaned against the piano, and grinned as I met his gaze. “You said you majored in music, but I didn't know you were so good at it. Word around campus is that there’s a girl, with a mixture of turquoise and cyan colored hair, who is apparently failing her art class.”

I pouted. “And you think they’re talking about me? I feel insulted.”

“No, I didn't mean to-“

“Hey, don’t worry,” I dismissed his concern, quickly putting away my sheet music with practiced ease. “It’s not like I’m failing my theory papers, just…the practical, is all.”

Raymond kept his pose at the piano, stroking his beard as if he were deep in thought. “Good to know, because I actually require some input from you…”

“Oh?”

“It’s nothing that you have to risk your neck for, though,” he shrugged, “Just a simple business project of mine that happens to be about some art festival thingamajig…and I have no knowledge of the target group we have to keep in mind, so I’m stumped at this point. I've done a little research into the matter, and, well, I felt like an idiot.”

“Do you have your research on you? I’d like to take a look at it ‘cause it can’t be that bad.”

He cleared his throat, picking up the briefcase from behind him and walking towards the middle of the room, expertly setting up a workstation with the notes that he had on his project. “You might want to think twice about what you just said.” 

By quickly skimming over the main headings and some of the information that he was piecing together, it was clear that Raymond’s assumption was indeed true. While it was a business project and it does require logical thinking, he didn't keep it mind that artists’ personalities differed from theirs most of the time. “Eh, how can I put this...”

“Don’t bother.” As I stood there in silence, Raymond collected his stacks of paper and started placing it back in the suitcase. “That’s why I need help from you, or someone that knows of artsy things, you know.”

My mouth opened and closed as I struggled to form the words in my mind. “Well, I mean, I can help you a little bit I guess, but the only person who can really help you is someone who’s an expert on it, like a teacher.” Just thinking about art classes gave me an idea. “Which reminds me, I got permission to bail on a lecture about some art shenanigans to practice piano, but… what if I end up going and you tag along?"

"Seriously?" he perked up at the thought of the idea. "You think they'd let me sit in?"

"Why not?" my lips were itching to form a smile, but it soon vanished. Appearing prim and proper, Raymond extended his arm like a gentleman would as he was escorting his date towards the dance floor. The comfortable and amusing atmosphere that had been created turned into a tense vibe that felt like it was suffocating me. There it was. That insane fear I had of romantic interactions, and guys in general. When I met Raymond at the orientation, I didn’t have that issue, because it was clear to me that we could be friends - just friends and nothing else. The smirk he was showcasing now told a different story, and even though it was probably just another joke or some way to be friendly, it still had that ability to make my heart beat a little faster.

But what was the point of being afraid when there was nothing to fear?

Fear was a choice right?

And I was going to have to face my fears sometime or another.

With my nose in the air, I valiantly accepted his arm and he escorted me down the stairs and towards his car, while the entire time, my heart was trying to climb its way out of my throat.

Although I imagined our arrival at the lecture hall to be a little less theatrical and our entrance into the building unnoticed, our lecturer had a different idea in mind as I tip-toed into the room with Raymond hot on my heels. “How nice of you to join us, Miss Duff; I had heard that you had permission to be absent today, and I wonder what the dean would think if he knew you were sneaking around with this pleasant looking gentleman.”

“Good day, Misses Huckleberry,” I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to walk towards her and give her a well-deserved slap through the face. “I was busy with piano practice, but my friend here-“

“Raymond Carter,” he quickly interjected.

“-needs some help with his business project. It’s all about art festivals, and I thought that you of all people must be an expert on the topic.”

The subtle hint at flattery seemed to have the desired effect. Her gaze shifted to Raymond, and she motioned that we take a seat. “Well, I would be honored to help a Business student such as you. First of all, you need to understand that there is a big personality difference between artistic people, and someone like you, no offense intended…”

What followed was one of the worst hours of my entire life.

Raymond seemed to be soaking up every bit of information – it was his project, after all – even though he didn’t have a notebook in front of him. I, on the other hand, had a pencil and paper in front of me, and as hard as I tried, I just couldn’t pay attention to what Misses Huckleberry was rambling on about.

“That was quite an insightful lesson,” the blue-haired male whispered as the class came to an end.

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me about it.”

After a day of heart throbbing, being yelled at by my least favorite lecturer and running around campus hoping I wouldn't be late for another class, my body was aching for a nice bubble bath. Sadly, there weren't any such luxuries around this dormitory. All we had were standardized bathrooms meant for both boys and girls. Not to mention the fact that if there had been a humongous tub, there would always be an argument in progress about whose turn it was. Maybe it would have been better to rent a nice apartment, but that was way more than what my budget allowed.

Around 6 PM, I finally got back to my dormitory, only to see candles and flowers cluttered around the door. That only meant one thing: Some guy was trying to impress a girl, they’d have dinner, put on some music, and the rest of the dorm would probably never hear the end of the gossip that would surround this spectacle. 

Beneath one tree a group of rebels were hanging out and catching a smoke break, taking advantage of the fact that the supervisor was already out like a light in his room by this time. "Hey, chick over there," a guy pointed at me with his cigarette and spoke in a disinterested tone. "You don't wanna go in there. So many flowers in there the stench could make you puke."

The only stench that's gonna make me puke is the smell of the smoke..., I thought to myself, but nodded in response. "Eh, thanks for the warning, I guess."

My tone had been less than grateful towards the one that had warned me, but as soon as I walked through the front door, I knew I’d been wrong. If I hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught on the senses, I’d probably have ran out the door again and never come back.

It was just that bad.

However, it went from ‘bad’ to ‘worse’ as I noticed the mess made in the dorm’s version of a dining room, where the tables were littered with flower vases, all stuffed with pink roses.

And the worst part of it all: Seeing the one who was responsible for all of it.

Lounged against the back wall of the room was the man I had met not-entirely-face-to-face only the previous night. 'The Wooer', 'The Ladies man', 'The guy I ran away from' - whatever name people knew him by, there he was, in my dorm, winking at me from across the room.

He pulled a crooked smile and jerked his chin towards the clock. "You're right on time, Miss Duff.”

Sooner or later, that horrible sensation of fear would take control of me, and I’d stand there gawking at him as if he were a god. That was one ego boost he definitely didn’t need. As long as I had control of my tongue and most of my vocabulary, I’d make the best of it.

Eyes narrowing, I opened my mouth to speak. “You did all this for me?”

Devin kept on smiling. “Of course! After the way you blew me off at the swimming pool, I’d thought I’d do something big to get your attention, so I asked around about who you are and what you liked… And that’s how all of this happened.”

“That’s great and all,” I hesitated, and then pointed at the flowers, “but I don’t like pink roses at all. And if that’s macaroni and cheese you got over there, I don’t like that much either.” The bravado was slowly draining from his face, and he one bowl behind his back - as if that would make a difference.

 “Come on, throw me a bone here.” With slumped shoulders, Devin pulled out a chair from the table. “Just do me this one favor of having dinner with me, pretty please? I already paid for all of it.”

"Why? It's not like I owe you anything? I don’t even know, except for all of the gossip on the campus that describes you…”

The sly smile was creeping back into his features. “You blew me off, for one. I was being extremely courteous, and, for the lack of a better description, you just ran away without an explanation. So if you’re not gonna explain yourself, you might as well suffer through an hour of sharing my company.”

While thinking of a reasonable response, I heard students chattering behind me, probably curious enough to peek into the room and see what Devin Jameson was up to now and who the next victim of his sweet-talking would be. I was forced to choose between only two options: Sit down and have dinner with the most notorious player on campus, or explain the whole situation to those nosy students.

Option one seemed to be better than the alternative.

Sighing, I took a seat at the table and stared at the bowl of food in front of me which didn’t exactly seem appetizing. “You win,” I admitted reluctantly. 

"Thank you," he heaved a sigh of relief. "It's not every day I have to grovel at someone's feet to have them agree to have dinner with me. You're probably the first girl that I've met that's like that, making it tons of fun to chase after you…”

Everything would have been perfect if he hadn’t said that. I nudged the bowl away from me, looking him squarely in the eyes. By now, fear should have made me unable to even engage in a normal conversation, much less scold a guy for being a jerk.

But it didn’t. It was impossible that I could have conquered my biggest flaw in the span of one day. Perhaps I was only given the chance of righting this wrong before the fear came back to suffocate me.

“Listen, all of this was really nice of you, Devin, and I appreciate it…but I’m not going to be some ‘conquest’ of yours. I’m not some cheap slut who falls for the first guy that gives her some form of affection. So let me just put this bluntly: There’s no way you’re getting in my pants, okay?”  

For a split second, his eyes widened, but he recovered quickly. “What made you think I’d do something like that?”

“Dude,” I couldn’t believe this innocent façade he had created for himself, “I don’t know what world you live in, but you’re not exactly a poster child for respectable men out there. You’re a liar and a cheater and you’re notorious for going around and having one-night-stands with most of the girls on campus.”

He abandoned his own plate of mac and cheese, looking everywhere in the room except at me. Through the years, I’ve tried to read people like a book by looking at their faces, but like King Duncan said in Macbeth, “There is no art to find the mind's construction in the face.” It wasn’t an exact science: People were unpredictable, and often good at hiding their intentions. Devin was even more deceptive than your average guy.

“It’s true, everything you said is true…,” he nodded slowly, “But what if it wasn’t? What if we just got to know each other, with no existing prejudices in play? Like this is a blind date of some kind?”

There was no air of deception around him as he spoke, his eyes feeling as if they were looking right into my soul. The sight gave me a light case of the goose bumps and some butterflies in the stomach, but I had to control myself. It could have been just another angle he was working. “Okay, I’ll play.”

“Great,” he paused to take a breath. “So…what did you say your name was, miss?”

“Kristine, but everyone calls be ‘Krissy’, and, to be honest, I like it a lot more than my real name. It’s sounds so old-fashioned almost.”

He chuckled, eyeing the candle that stood in the middle of the table. “I think it’s a lovely name. I don’t exactly have an interesting name or back story even, like, being raised in the backstreets of some city. I’m Devin, and I’m here at university because of a sports scholarship I got back in high school. What about you?”

“Me? Not much to tell. I’m majoring in Fine Arts because my best friend dragged me all the way with her to come and party. I don’t exactly have the perfect history…,” I paused, realizing I was about to reveal my entire past to a guy that I barely knew. It would be best to keep it plain and simple, like he did.  “I’m from Appaloosa Plains, the most boring place on earth. My parents are very protective of me, you know. I was like a little chick being nurtured by its mother its entire life. So yeah, I should probably thank my friend huh?”

“Probably,” he agreed, and we both laughed a little. “See? I’m not the bad company you were expecting, right?”

I had to agree with him on that. “Surprisingly no. It kind of makes me wonder if the rumors were over-exaggerated…

But then again, he admitted it was true, the thought passed my mind.

The ‘blind date’ came to an end, and Devin kissed me goodnight on the cheek and asked if he could see me again. What was the harm in going out with him one more time? We enjoyed each other’s company, and I already stated that there was no way in hell we were going to hook up anytime soon. Did he expect that, given enough time, I’d budge and give in?

Well, I wasn’t going to give him that kind of power over me.

“No, sorry,” I wiggled my index finger at him. “I’m not gonna make this easy for you.”

He grumbled as he walked past me and out the door, leaving me to laugh at his antics. This wasn’t some kind of puppy-love I was suffering from. I didn’t feel any sort of real attraction towards him, nor did I see myself in a relationship anytime soon. But it did present the perfect opportunity for me to work on getting over my fears.  So, if I thought about this logically, none of us could complain. He was happy thinking that he was going to have a girl to woo, while I had someone to talk to and challenge my social anxiety problems.

It was a win-win situation, no matter how you looked at it...

...As long as I didn't fall for his charms, that is.

~♥~
*eh hem* Hi, and thank you for reading this latest chapter. I'm really sorry for the lack of chapters as of late, but I truly have been stuck behind my text books and studying for exams the entire time. Luckily, my exams end next week and Tuesday, so I'm hoping to be able to fit in some writing time, as I already have all the pictures for this generation up and till chapter 8.

Just a side note to anyone who has seen the character bios (that are still WIP), I made a slight change there. The character, Shaun Steen, used to be this tanned guy with orange hair, but I made another male sim later on that I fell in love with, and he is now the new Shaun Steen. I'll update the bios later on with his picture.

I also promise this generation will become more interesting as time passes. I just need to build the foundation before I break it down (yeah, sadly, that's what I'm doing).