In Hidden Springs Superior Court, in front of the queen's magistrate, a petition for revocation of parental rights was filed, by Sebastian Ryan Plumb, current resident of Starlight Shores, and Savannah Rachel Plumb Cheesman, current resident of Moonlight Falls, on behalf of minor child Kaydence Michele Westley-Plumb, against Madison Brooke Westley, current resident of Lucky Palms.  The plaintiffs charge that Ms. Westley is an unfit mother who cheated repeatedly in front of the minor child and often left the minor child in the care of nannies.  The plaintiffs also charge that said minor child was allowed to wear makeup at an extremely young age.  The defendant charges that the plaintiff is being unduly influenced by his co-plaintiff, his older sister.   

Back in Hidden Springs

 

Well, Madison and I are done, finished, kaput. 

She went to Lucky Palms to perform at the casino there and because her gig there became permanent decided to take up residence there.
But that's not why we broke up. 

We broke up because Sim Gossip Today published photos of her wildly flirting and cheating with random men.  And two other magazines have even more pictures set to be published, including one of her on the arm of artist Darren Dreamer. 

The one good thing, I guess, to come out of my relationship with Madison -- was Kaydence.  We've enrolled her in Le Fromage Art School (although I didn't want to) because it would be best for her to be away from any legal proceedings that might ensue.  Plus she'll get a quality education in the arts there.  Kady is so smart tho.  She reminds me a lot of my mom, actually, looks-wise.   I couldn't have Kady in this situation at all.  She's completely innocent, had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. 

Because I was in need of a breather, I decided to return to Hidden Springs to check on my dog, Honey, and try once again to locate Kyra. 
In that vein, I ran into the woman Kyra was staying with, the 'runaway princess' Francisca Vanderburg, at a private party. 
"A lot's happened since you've been away," Francisca said succinctly.  I could tell that she kept her upper-class accent.  "My brother got married, lovely woman he wed.  Perfect little princess she is.  They've a son now."
"Where is Kyra?"  I asked.
"In Bridgeport with her new male companion."
New male companion?  Gulp.  I hated the way she said that. 
"Actually, they're not dating, they're just friends.  He's chief of the fire department here.  And he has a teenage son."
Hmm.
"I must say, though, Sebastian, your son is a handsome young chap.  He's got musical gifts like you."
"My son?"
"Yes, your son."
"No, wait, that's impossible.  I wanted Kyra to get a DNA test so that we both can know for sure."

"Sebastian!"  Francisca was impatient.  "You know that's your son!"
Francisca's cell phone began to ring.  "Shouldn't you answer that?" I said to her.
"I'm not worried about that, it's probably my publicist."  Francisca reached over and turned her cell phone's ringer off. 
"I'm sick of you denying my friend's baby.  And I regard Kyra as a friend.  You know good and well Aaron is your son!  And the reason you know he's your son is because you brought yourself back here to look for him."
I thought about telling Francisca about Madison but thought better of it. 
"I never slept with Kyra!"  I protested.  "She wanted to, and I stopped.  I backed out.  And now she's had a kid???"
"You know in your heart that Aaron is your son.  There are some things you just know, without need of any piece of paper.  How could you sit here and deny that gorgeous little boy?  This isn't about you, Sebastian.  Bastards like you are the reason we have so many lost children.  If I were Kyra I'd never speak to you again."
Francisca took a deep breath.  "I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me.  My stepfather passed away this week," she said matter-of-factly, changing the subject as if she'd never launched her tirade. 
"Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that." 
"It was really a shock.  He's the only father we knew.  My brother and sisters are really taking it hard."
"Your sisters?"  I asked.  "I mean, I knew you had a brother, and he was the crown prince, but I didn't know you had sisters too."
"Twins.  They're much younger than my brother and me."

Francisca introduced me to her half-sisters, Alexandra and Anastasia.  They were young adults and showed every trace of their Smuggsworth education and upper-class upbringing.  We exchanged pleasantries and moved on. 

 

Francisca's cell phone rang again.  "Aren't you going to answer it?"  I insisted.

"No," she replied firmly.  "I'm speaking to the person I want to talk to now."

When Francisca finally left, she dropped a guitar composition book.  It had my father's name on it.   

I haven't decided if I'm going to stay in Hidden Springs for Prince Renauld's funeral.  I've got too much to think about. Maybe I should go to the springs and relax. 

Big news

I probably should have updated you guys sooner on it, but didn't, because, well, I've been busy. And most of you read the gossip rags so you probably know it already.
But in case you didn't, here's a brief little recap.

Well, Madison and I started dating.  At this point I'm still not sure why.

 

Especially since we argue, fuss, and fight like we do.   In fact, we moved in together. 

And something else happened too.

We gave birth to our first child, Kaydence Michele Westley-Plumb.  Madison chose the name of her mother, Michele, as her middle name.  I wanted a musical name, something to do with music.  I was between Cadence, Harmony, and Melody... but then I turned the naming rights over to Madison. 

Kaydence's official portrait.

At Madison's birthday party I met her mother, Michele Guyton.  Michele was a single parent with a single goal: to make her daughter famous.  I'd say she succeeded. 

Our magazine portrait.

The Castle

This is “The Castle,” the Spanish-style Starlight Shores mansion where I’ve been holed up for the better part of a month, since leaving Hidden Springs without any news from Kyra.  I don’t understand why she still won’t talk to me, either by email, telephone, or snail mail.  She can’t keep my child away from me, if indeed the child is mine.  I need to know.  The not knowing is killing me. 

After helping me unpack, Kristy went back to Bridgeport to work on that Moon Colony script (and to be with her new GF, Rachael).  I suspect she left because she didn’t like Madison. 

The last night before Kristy left, we went to this party given by Melanie Worthington, a local socialite.  We ended up hanging out in her grandson Girbits’ game loft. 

While I’ve been in hiding, I’ve been working on my guitar skills.  I’ve been writing this song that’s been on my heart ever since Kyra left.   She wanted marriage and a family and, well, I simply wasn’t ready for all that.  I was just a young naïve kid coming out of Sunset Valley.  I didn’t know anything about the world. 

This is my new set of wheels, a Hummer. 

And when I haven’t been writing my song, I’ve been cooking.  Experimenting with recipes.  The other day I made French toast for breakfast.  I think kneading dough relaxes me. 

Oh, Madison does come over on occasion, just before or just after concerts. 

“Dude, you are so good at this,” she said when I played a few bars of the song I was writing. 

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.  What happened to you performing at Simfest?”

“I’m an actor, not a musician.”

“You’re lying.  You can’t help that you’re a musician.  Just like I can’t help that I’m a singer.”

“I was trained to be a musician,” I reminded her.  “Remember, that was the plan.  I was supposed to follow my parents in the biz.”

“I happen to believe you’re more of a natural musician than you are an actor.  I think you became an actor because you didn’t want to be like your father.”

Had to admit, that gave me a lot to chew on.

Singin’ In the Rain

I was playing guitar in the dining room when Madison walked in. 

“Dude, you’re killin’ it!” she shouted. 

“It’s not that good.”

“Dude you lie!” Madison was serious.  “That song is great!  I want you to perform that song at the next Simfest.”

I shook my head.  “Uh-uh.  No way.”

“Dude, you grew up around music, you said it yourself.”

“I grew up around classical music,” I retorted.  “Musical theater, orchestras, that kind of thing. My parents were –”

“I know who your parents were,” Madison said, “Everyone who’s ever studied music in Simland knows who your parents were.  But you can’t keep living in their shadow.  You have to make your own mark.”

As Madison helped me into my space suit for the day’s shoot, she whispered in my ear, “Who’s that song about?”

“What song?”

“That song you were performing in the dining room.  It’s about somebody.”

“No, it’s not about anyone in particular.”

“You lie!  You wrote that song about somebody.  It’s a beautiful song, really it is.  You don’t have to tell me who it is, but I know it’s about somebody.  Breakup songs are the easiest ones to get hits out of.  You are going to perform that song at Simfest – and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Welcome to Starlight Shores

Well here I am.  I’m in Starlight Shores, my third new city.  Over the hills you could see the sign.

I’m all packed and moved into my new digs in the hills area.  I left my dog, Honey, with Francisca, and Honey’s daughter, Bitsy, is with my niece, Sage. 

My friend and ex-boss Kristy Verhoeven came and visited me and helped me unpack.  She also wanted to go over what she had of the Moon Colony script.  The Moon Colony movie is based on my aunt’s book series.  Kristy is dead set on getting this movie made, despite all the setbacks it’s had with funding and also the fact that Emmitt Stanley (Alan’s son by Emmy Starr) is writing his own version.  “This is a great house,” I whispered while she was biting into my new butler’s key lime pie. 

“Yeah, it’s fab,” she muttered.

“Let me guess – you miss Bridgeport.”

She shrugged her shoulders.  “No, it’s not that, it’s –”

And there is the other part of the story.  Remember Madi Westley, the girl I met in Hidden Springs?  Turns out she lives here, in Starlight Shores, and she’s kind of giving me the lay of the land. 

“You know, Sebastian,” Madi said, “there is this one karaoke bar here that you guys HAVE to check out.  It’s always busy and there’s always something going on here.”

That’s the other part of the story.  You see, Kristy and Madi don’t like each other very much.  And it’s not hard to see why, given how night-and-day different they are.  

Early the next morning, after work, Kristy asked me, point blank, “What’s going on between you and her?”

I had to laugh.  Is she jealous?

“There’s nothing going on between us,” I replied.  “We hardly even know each other.”

“That’s not what she says.”

“Well, she’s not exactly telling the truth.”

Kristy gave me a knowing glance.  “You wouldn’t know what the truth is if it stared you in the face.”  She said it in a joking manner but she was entirely serious. 

Night and day she works on that script.  Obviously it means a lot to her. 

Meanwhile, I whipped out my keyboard and continued to practice a few bars.  I took up piano in Bridgeport and because I inherited my parents’ virtuoso trait, learning wasn’t that difficult. 

That evening I went to Verdi Park to see Madi perform in concert.  Have to say, she’s pretty good.

“You were great out there!”

“Dude, you could do exactly what I’m doing.  Probably better.”

“What do you mean?  I’m an actor.”

“You’re more of a musician than I could ever be.  And you know it.  I’m a singer, I’m not a musician.  C’mon, I hear you at night strum that guitar and tickle those ivories.  You’re really good at it.”

I explained to Madi that I’d grown up in a musical home and I’d been taught to play the guitar before I went to school.   

“You know, dude, you need to figure out if acting is really what you want.  Cuz you know what I think?  I think your real thing is music, and you’re running from it.  You can’t run anymore from who you are.”