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.”