A Kingdom of lies.

chapter 11: Grace and Bravery makes one great.

Vince Cartell was walking down the crowded streets of Paris. Everywhere, there were people dressed in expensive clothes and for those who couldn't afford that, there was the jaw dropping street style- the trend setter of the world. Yes, this was the fashion capital indeed. You could see the reemains of history in every single building and on all the streets. This was a strange city. Why? Because it was oonly here that past and the present blended together in this perfect melody. Where else would the horrors of the past and the coldness of the present be considered enchanting? No where else but Paris. If you were thinking other cities and places in France, you were wrong there too. It was only in Paris that this phenomena took place. Only in Paris.

By now, you would have figured out that Vince really did love Paris. It was a beautiful city and had always been rather benovalent towards him. He was born poor. His mother a kindergarten teacher and his father a baker. Perhaps, it was a middle class family then but compared to what he had today, he was poor. He remembered the first time he ever did well, he got to play until 8 in the night, instead of the dissapointing 5 in the evening. Yes, he remembered the glee he felt. Unfortunetly for him though, the other kids on his streets went home at 6 so, he spent two hours walking around aimlessly. In the dark, to a 10 year old boy, everything seemed to be familiar. Instead of staying in his neighbourhood, he explored the backroads. He knew he was in the wrong place the moment he saw the huge palace-looking town houses. He stood outside one and gaped. He wanted to live like this one day. He really did but who lived here? His curiosity was then answered when a sleek black Rolls Royce glided through the gates. A tall man, dressed completly in black and white appeared. He remebered thinking that the man was the owner when he was simply the chauffer. A stupid mistake. The man, walked over to one of the doors and held it open. From inside, two people emerged- a gril slightly yonger than him with blonde hair and silver eyes emerged. She was wearing an expensive looking pink dress with a white hat and white shoes and even had her own bag! The next person was a boy  around his age with chocolate brown hair, pale skin and olive green eyes. He could see that the boy was wearing a shirt and some kind blazer but that was it. The rest was hidden by the car and the steadily gaining darkness. He wanted to be the boy.

Almost 7 years later, he saw him again. By now, he was 17 in the 11th grade in his public school. Private school was meant for the rich and the brilliant. He had applied to a few but they promptly turned him down because his scores were not satisfactory. Even if he did get in, the scholership was so little that his family would have to starve to put him through. Besides, private school was filled with snobs and it was so far away. They did not have busses so you had to use your own transport. So, public school was so much better. He was simply sitting in his classroom, waiting for his teacher to enter and talking to a few of his friends when the door was pushed open. His overly enthusiastic teacher, Mr Joe appeared. He was an average height American with a pot belly, long mustache and a bald head. He loved Paris and would do anything to be French. So, he often spoke formal French with a strong American accent. Usually, it was funny but sometimes it was annoying. No one could understand a word. Besides, he kept forgetting that they all knew English.

"Good morning class. Today we have a new student," he announced in French, sounding like English.

A classmate seated next to him groaned.

"He's the worst when new students are there. He talks more French to impress them and it gets so hard to understand" the boy whispered and Vince grined.

Right then, a tall, well built  boy entered with chocolate brown hair, an angular face and pericing olive green eyes. His skin was lightly tanned. He looked familiar to Vince.

"I am Robert Castilo. I am 17 years old and live in Paris" he replied with no display of emotion on his face.

Why on earth did he look so familiar, wondered Vince.