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.”

Dad

I was on my way home when my cell phone rang.  It was dad.

“Son, I want you to meet me at the luxury lodge over in the mountains.”

The lodge?  Why would he want me to meet him there?

Thing is, though, if Dad wants you to meet him somewhere… you have to do it.  He doesn’t scream or yell at you, but if he wants to see you, you have to go.

So there I was, driving to the lodge to meet my father. 

I had been to the lodge before, but not inside of it.   This is where Dad asked me to meet him, at this secluded little lodge.  Apparently he is a patron here.  I can’t say I’m surprised. 

Sure enough, when I walked in, my father was listening to the pianist play a rousing jazz song. 

Dad shot a look that could melt steel.  I knew he had to be angry with me.  First my sister chews me out, and now my dad tears into me with only his eyes.  Damn.

I took a deep breath.  “Dad, look, I can explain everything.”

“I already know everything, son,” he said in his customary low whispery baritone.  “I already know everything in here.”  He pointed to his heart.  

When dad speaks in those cryptic tones I have to wonder sometimes. 

“I don’t have to say anything to you, Sebastian, because you are me, except bigger and taller and younger.”

“Because you were born to fame and wealth, Sebastian, that means that everyone wants a piece of you.  Everyone.  Your life is not yours anymore once you choose this.  I learned that the hard way.”

He started telling me about what he did when he was my age.  “There was a woman named Holly Alto.  Holly Alto’s parents were very rich, and when they died, they left her the mansion.  I met her before I met your mother, this was a long, long time ago.  I was dating someone else at the time that I met Holly.  She financed my first album.  Then she got pregnant.  And I got scared.  Noah suffered because I was scared.  I couldn’t deal with being a dad.  I was not ready.  Neil is paying for it now. 

“You are scared, Sebastian.  You are scared.  I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Neil when his girlfriend got pregnant.  You know in your gut what you did, and you are the one who has to make it right.  Miss Foster’s baby is yours, and you know it.  I’m going to be the last person to say I am perfect, because I’m not.  I did my best.  Sandy and I raised you and your sister.  I’m paying for my mistakes every single remaining day of my life. 

“I’m going to counseling here at the Rudolph Vanderburg Mental Wellness Center once a week with your mother, and I want you and your sister to come too one of these days, but I realize you are busy with your own lives.  Because I realize that my actions have affected all of you, and all of you have reacted in different ways.”

He pulled out a card with the name of his counselor. 

I decided after the confessional… I needed a drink.  My mind was a million miles away. 

On the computer

 

I sent this email to Kyra this morning.

Dear Kyra,

This letter might come as a surprise to you.  You probably think I don’t care, or that I have forgotten that you existed, but that is not the case.  Not a day goes by without thinking about you and what I did to you.  I know I hurt you badly and that I deserve not to be in your company ever again. 

I would like for you to meet me tomorrow afternoon at the Rudolph Vanderburg hospital here in Hidden Springs.  No agents, no family members, no hangers-on.  Just you and me, for a DNA test.  I’m not demanding or requiring that you come, but I would very much like you to.  It’s important for you, for me, and for the baby.  

Sincerely yours,

Sebastian

While I was checking my email, I got one from Neil back home in Sunset Valley. 

Hey bro,

Whuzzup?  Nothin’ much here.  My son Nolan is starting at CSG (Community School for the Gifted) and Noelle and I are still on track for a Christmas wedding.  Are you comin’?  It would mean a lot to me if you came. 

Hey, I heard Grandpa took Grandma to Hidden Springs to seek the fountain of youth.  Gramps was always a holy roller eh? 

Oh guess what?  Daisy’s engaged, to a police officer named Jeff Peters.  They started dating right after you left this last time.  Her parents pushed for a quick engagement and got it.  Truth be told, tho, I don’t think she loves him. 

Gotta go.  Nevaeh needs her bottle.  Did I tell you?  Right after Nolan was born, Noelle got pregnant again and we had Nevaeh. 

Neil

I could understand Daisy never speaking to me again after what I did, but a police officer??? Damn. 

Savannah part 3

“I cleared everyone out, Bassy… it’s just you and me.  Now fess up.  What the hell is going on?”

I took a deep breath.  “Ok, remember back home in Sunset Valley that I was kinda sorta dating Daisy Ramsey?”

“Yeah.”

“And remember I told you about this girl Kyra that I met in Bridgeport?”

“Yeah.  Vaguely.”

I went into the whole sordid situation.  I ended up on Savannah’s couch.

“So let me get this straight.  You didn’t tell Daisy you were seeing Kyra, and you didn’t tell Kyra you were seeing Daisy.”

I nodded. “Then when I got to Sunset Valley I had to tell Daisy the truth.  She hasn’t spoken to me since.  I can’t say I blame her.”

“What about Kyra?”

“After I told Kyra about Daisy, she went to the press and told this reporter that she is pregnant.  She says I’m the father.”

Savannah took a deep breath and shook her head.  “Oh, Bassy.  I can’t believe you got yourself into this mess.”

“You can’t believe it?” I whispered.  “What about me?”

Savannah sighed again.  “Bassy, you better hope and pray to the Watcher that this isn’t your child, or you are in a whole hell of a lot of trouble.  You need a DNA test.  And you need to tell Kyra right away.”

She took a deep breath and sternly warned, “But, I will say this.  If this is your child, Sebastian, you have to step up and take responsibility.  You have to be a father.  Your childhood is over, you’ve got to grow up and be a man.”