Chapter 1

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          There are certain stages in life that people go through when they are born. First stage is infancy, wherein you get curious and eat your own shit. Second stage is childhood, wherein you go to kindergarten and learn you ABC's and other shit. Third stage is adolescence, wherein it is the most memorable stage in a person's existence, and also where some people go into "a phase" (which in my case I never gone through that crap, much less did I have a memorable teenage life). Fourth stage is young-adulthood, wherein teenagers are left broke and forced to face the cruel world called reality. And I'm gonna stop here because I was told that I feed people too much useless information, and because it is the stage I'm about face.

          My name is Steven. Full name Steven Michael Art. First name from my biological mother and second name from the archangel Michael (both of my parents agreed in making my second name to Michael. 1, because it's catholic. 2, because it's my dads name). People think it's a cool name, but I think it's pretty lame. My age, 17. I live in Los Angeles, and to be more specific, good old Hollywood. We live in a house on a hill and I'm not saying this to brag, trust me. I'm a very humble guy and I mean it. My father is like a producer who's produced tons of famous artist like, Adele, Ariana Grande, and has even produced Coldplay once. My Mother past away when I was four, and my father remarried when I was six. I bet your getting pretty bored, so I'll just cut the crap.

         I was in my room sitting on my bed, staring at the empty space that's probably gonna be the second gym in our house. I should probably help Karen (my step mom) and Dad put all my stuff in the car. But... Then I guess they can handle it. After all, I'm going to the same college in New York, Juilliard, where my sister, Sophie (who is a year older than me), also studies, and is also my dream school (Juilliard is, by the way, an art school in New York). And they might be just glad that they're gonna do this last thing before I go. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to see your children go. Must be pretty hard. But I've got nothing to worried about. Settling down and having children is way out of my reach. No one freaking likes me for God's sake. I was invisible in high school and I never ask any girl out to my junior and senior prom. In our yearbook I was voted "most likely to..." and that was it. Because no one even knew I existed. I mean who would... I look like a freaking human gecko. Plus all the girls in school were and are very judgmental. I thought at least my blonde hair would attract the ladies, but of course it never had.

         "Steven..." Said a gentle sweet voice at the door. It was Karen. I'd say she never really acted like a mom, she was like a third sister to me, and a better one at that. Karen was dad's new personal assistant back then. She was hired right after my mom died. They didn't actually like each other at first, and they didn't hate each other either. How they fell in love was that some shit happened I guess? You know, the typical love story shit. They dated for a year, and dad finally proposed to her on May 2005. They got married on December on the same year in Russia (yeah, I know, a pretty cold place to get married). The theme of the wedding was like a winter wonderland in real snow. I got to be the ring bearer.

          "Yeah?"

          "Are you done saying good-bye to your bedroom?" She said in a sarcastic tone.

I chuckled softly while shaking my head. "Yeah..." I said as I rolled my eyes. I stood up, took my back pack that was filled with stuff (and most importantly my passport and wallet), and when I was about to open the door I looked at the mirror one last time. Don't really know why I've been checking my reflection for the past hour.

          "Steven?"

          "Coming." I said and then I opened the door and Karen was there. She was smiling at me, and her eyes happy and sad at the same time.

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⏰ Last updated: May 18, 2016 ⏰

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