A/N: It’s been a while! Firstly, Australia was amazing, but I couldn’t get anything sim-related done at all!! Things have also been a bit hectic around here with the birth of my new baby brother, Scott, and me getting a job, so I’m sorry for the wait. Oh, and my laptop died the week I got home so I had to save up, buy a new one and then reinstall sims and deal with all my cc and everything. *_* Madness.
Hope you enjoy the chapter! :D
I’ve arrived in Starlight Shores safely. I know you’re still mad at me about the whole Charity disaster (and I know I deserve it), but hey. You’re my best friend, and I miss you already!
The boarding school Doo Peas has sent me to – AKA the Henry Whitestable Institute – is a bit like a really posh manor house. You know, English country house kind of thing. It has sweeping lawns, trimmed border hedges and flowerbeds that explode with a riot of colour. (I was bored and read the brochure in the car on the way up.)
Inside the school is just as posh, with an entrance hall and a grand staircase and even a chandelier. I feel as though I’ve stepped back in time at least a hundred years. According to a plaque beside the main entrance the school was established in 1846, so I reckon not much has changed since then. But hey, you’ll be pleased to know it has both electricity and running hot water, so I won’t freeze to death.
It’s really unlike any school I’ve ever been to. There are only forty boys here (yes, it’s an all-boys school) and we sleep in dorms of four. When the brochure mentioned dormitories, I got really excited because I thought it’d be kind of like Hogwarts, with the tower rooms and the four-poster beds, but it’s nowhere near that exciting. (Not to mention, we don’t learn magic and I’m not destined to defeat any sort of Dark Lord.)
The dorm, however, does come with a massive television, a gaming system (though that might belong to one of the others), a big bookcase, a desk and computer, and a chest of drawers. And, bunk beds! It’s like being small again and sharing with Farrow, seriously!
When I arrived, I was taken to the headmaster’s office, a Mr Henry Whitestable. (I assume not the original Henry Whitestable, but you never know.) He looked at me down the length of his nose and told me what an asset he thought I would be to the school, but he said it in a way that I knew he didn’t really mean what he was saying. From the look of the place, he’s used to getting boys from parents with more money than they know what to do with, not – well, me.
Despite the fact a large part of me doesn’t really want to be here, his attitude made me really want to succeed. I guess that’s a good thing.
I’m writing this whilst everyone else is at dinner. I don’t know what it is – nerves, I guess – but I really don’t have much of an appetite. I haven’t met the other members of my dorm yet; they were in lessons when I arrived and they went straight from them to dinner, so… I guess I’ll be meeting them soon.
I hope they like me.
Look after Charity for me,
* * *
Your letter must have got lost in the post, because I haven’t heard from you. You can’t still be mad at me, can you? I told you I was sorry. How’s Charity doing? =[
School’s been keeping me busy. Even though I was getting kind of average marks back home, it seems that here I’m very behind. I often feel kind of stupid compared to everyone else, but I’m keeping my head down and working hard. You wouldn’t believe it if you saw me, Jed. I always seem to have my head in a book nowadays – maybe I’m turning into you!
Thankfully, I’ve made some friends here (though no one can replace you, don’t worry!). I felt like some sort of animal in a zoo the first few days, when everyone would be staring at me like I had two heads or something, but everyone soon got used to me. I was expecting some bullying for being, I don’t know, scarred or poor, but there hasn’t really been much. A few comments and ‘accidental’ shoves in the corridor, but it’s not like I’ve been cornered and beaten up. Just as well, really. You know I’m useless in a fight.
The three guys in my dorm seem to have adopted me into their group. I think it might have been a lot more difficult if they hadn’t accepted me, but… yeah, things seem to be going well.
Jonathan Beresford (known more often as Jack) is really awesome, and I think Farrow would get on great with him. He’s really into music, but his father owns this huge company (I think they deal with home improvements) and he’s pushing Jack to get involved, which is why he’s hear at business school. Sometimes in the evening he plays his guitar and, for a while, I feel less homesick.
Oakley Newhaven is the son of a lord, and I was quite intimidated when I was first introduced to him. I needn’t have worried, because he’s one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. He helps me a lot with my homework, as I’m rather behind all these other boys who went to public school. I’m catching up, though. I even got top mark in the class the other day (though some of the credit should probably go to Oakley…)!
Alistair d’Vair is from a rich French family, but he can speak English as fluently as if he was born here. If it wasn’t for the slight accent, I never would have realised! He was the first person here to decide to take me under his wing, and ended up following me around for the whole day before I would take the hint that he might want to be friends (I thought he might have ill intentions so kept hiding from him, I’m ashamed to say)!
None of them can replace you, of course, Jed, as I already said. I really wish you were here. It’d be so much easier to get through this.
* * *
Thank you for the letter, and thank you even more so for forgiving me. I was so stupid, but I’m glad I don’t have to lose you as well as Charity. I’m also glad that Charity seems to be moving on from me, even though she called me, well… you’re a braver man than I to write down those words where anyone could see them! Make sure this Derek person treats her right, okay?
Everything is fine here. I’m happy.
* * *
Lately I’ve been having these dreams.
They start out ordinary enough, but soon I become aware of being followed. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I start to notice this man everywhere I look.
I’ve never seen him before in my life!
I wonder what it means. Perhaps it doesn’t mean anything at all.
What do you think?
* * *
It’s been a while since I last wrote. School has been overwhelmingly hectic. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many essays to write all in one go! I swear my eyes are going to start to bleed from overuse; I already have blistered fingers. Cry forever.
Today is a day off. We’re supposed to be revising for upcoming end of year exams, but we’re all lazing around by the school pond. I can’t believe this year has gone so quickly!
I’m sorry to hear about Charity breaking up with Derek. I know it sounds kind of lame coming from me, but I genuinely wanted her to be happy, you know?
Do you think she’d write back if I sent her a letter?
What have you been up to? How’s the revision coming along?
* * *
Perhaps I’m being a bit presumptuous, writing to you like this, but I’m fed up with acting like a schoolboy and trying to tell you things through Jed. I was the biggest idiot in the world when I broke up with you, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to realise that.
I’ll understand if you never forgive me.
All my love,
* * *
Exams are over! We’re freeeeeee!
Should be home in a few weeks, when results have come in and I know whether or not I have to stay for another year (pleasegodno)! Looking forward to seeing you, Jed!!
How did you do? I’m sure you’ve done fine, don’t worry! :)
* * *
I will probably be home before you get this letter, since I’m writing this at the airport waiting for my flight. I don’t know if you’ve heard the news or not. Actually, I don’t see how you can’t have. It’s been all over television.
My brother is dead. Farrow is dead.
It hurts to write that.
According to the papers, Farrow and Jabberwocky did their best show yet – a really big one in one of Bridgeport’s most prestigious clubs. Then, whilst the rest of the band were celebrating, Farrow went back to their hotel and put a gun to his head.
That isn’t Farrow, Jed. He told me once that he would never be another Kurt Cobain, but look what happened! Why the fuck would he do this, Jed?! It doesn’t make any sense.
None of it makes sense.
The Farrow I know would never do that. Never. He was so HAPPY. He had just played the BEST SHOW OF HIS LIFE.
WHERE THE FUCK DOES SUICIDE COME INTO THAT?!
Please come to the funeral, Jed. I don’t think I can handle it without you.