Chapter One: Desmond Clair
Desmond Clair was known as “Prince.” Maybe it was because of his charming good looks. Or his radiant swagger. Either way, Desmond couldn’t blame them. They had good taste.
His school, the Memorial Institute, was fool of many gifted kids. Each of the students’ parents was millionaires, and boy did I show it. But surprisingly, Desmond wanted a regular life. He was always neglected by his movie star dad, and nobody seemed to take him for who he was.
Today, Desmond was fishing through his closet for some clothes to wear. His “closet” was actually on the Internet. The thing was Desmond didn’t need to buy clothes—and, man, were his parents proud. All he had to do was form a picture in his mind of what he wanted to wear, and—voila!—he was wearing it.
But, wearing the best clothes, and looking the cutest wasn’t what he wanted to be known for. True friends was what he wanted; people that would love him for who he was. And today, he was going to be regular.
Desmond looked through the regular clothes gallery on his iPad. A purple plaid shirt, he thought, would make him look fancy. And black jeans, with Osiris brand shoes. Now that was regular.
Desmond stood up. And now for the magic. Desmond did a short spin, and found himself wearing the clothes. He smiled. That trick never got old.
RING! went the home phone downstairs. Quickly, Desmond grabbed his backpack and sprinted downstairs. His house had a spiral stairway, and Desmond loved sliding down the railing for fun.
In a fluid motion, he reached for the phone. It rang two more times before Desmond finally pressed the ANSWER key.
“Hello?” Desmond said into the phone.
“Hey, son!” It was Desmond’s dad, Vladimir Clair. As usual, he sounded like he was in a rush.
“Hi, dad.” Desmond tried to add enough sarcasm to make any parent want to ask what’s wrong. But Desmond wasn’t like those kinds of parents. He was frequently busy, and didn’t seem to care about anything other than himself and his career.
“Okay. Let me make this quick. I—”
“I know, I know. You have another movie scene to rehearse, and you want me to do things like I normally do.” Desmond tried not to sound sad. But he couldn’t help it. His dad, the person that he should look up to, was never there to even be looked up to.
“Thanks for understanding, son.” Desmond could barely hear the director’s voice in the background, rallying up the actors.
Then Desmond remembered what he wanted to say. “Dad, I have something to ask—”
“Oh, sorry! Gotta go!” And with that, his father hung up.
Desmond took some few precious minutes to just stand there. Why couldn’t he have been born with normal parents? He remembered those old corny Christmas movies that he used to watch—and sometimes still did. The family would all be together, either eating together around a large table, or watching TV. They all looked so happy, he noticed. Even when things didn’t go so well, the parents were always there to cheer up everyone.
Desmond walked over to the glass cabinets that laid in the living room. Gently, he opened the doors and gently pulled out one of the photos inside. On it was a picture of him, his dad, and his mom, all smiling. His mom looked a lot like him, Desmond realized. Strange how she had just abandoned them. Well, throughout his life, Desmond had learned that things never lasted. His mom didn’t last two years with him. His dad couldn’t last a second with him. And—
BLARE! It was the school bus that always drove by to take some of the students to school. Startled, Desmond had dropped the picture. The glass frame had shattered into a million pieces.
Then an idea hit him. Desmond would be normal today. From now on, he would go to the regular school with regular kids. He liked the sound of that.
Desmond Clair was going to be normal.
Desmond Clair was known as “Prince.” Maybe it was because of his charming good looks. Or his radiant swagger. Either way, Desmond couldn’t blame them. They had good taste.
His school, the Memorial Institute, was fool of many gifted kids. Each of the students’ parents was millionaires, and boy did I show it. But surprisingly, Desmond wanted a regular life. He was always neglected by his movie star dad, and nobody seemed to take him for who he was.
Today, Desmond was fishing through his closet for some clothes to wear. His “closet” was actually on the Internet. The thing was Desmond didn’t need to buy clothes—and, man, were his parents proud. All he had to do was form a picture in his mind of what he wanted to wear, and—voila!—he was wearing it.
But, wearing the best clothes, and looking the cutest wasn’t what he wanted to be known for. True friends was what he wanted; people that would love him for who he was. And today, he was going to be regular.
Desmond looked through the regular clothes gallery on his iPad. A purple plaid shirt, he thought, would make him look fancy. And black jeans, with Osiris brand shoes. Now that was regular.
Desmond stood up. And now for the magic. Desmond did a short spin, and found himself wearing the clothes. He smiled. That trick never got old.
RING! went the home phone downstairs. Quickly, Desmond grabbed his backpack and sprinted downstairs. His house had a spiral stairway, and Desmond loved sliding down the railing for fun.
In a fluid motion, he reached for the phone. It rang two more times before Desmond finally pressed the ANSWER key.
“Hello?” Desmond said into the phone.
“Hey, son!” It was Desmond’s dad, Vladimir Clair. As usual, he sounded like he was in a rush.
“Hi, dad.” Desmond tried to add enough sarcasm to make any parent want to ask what’s wrong. But Desmond wasn’t like those kinds of parents. He was frequently busy, and didn’t seem to care about anything other than himself and his career.
“Okay. Let me make this quick. I—”
“I know, I know. You have another movie scene to rehearse, and you want me to do things like I normally do.” Desmond tried not to sound sad. But he couldn’t help it. His dad, the person that he should look up to, was never there to even be looked up to.
“Thanks for understanding, son.” Desmond could barely hear the director’s voice in the background, rallying up the actors.
Then Desmond remembered what he wanted to say. “Dad, I have something to ask—”
“Oh, sorry! Gotta go!” And with that, his father hung up.
Desmond took some few precious minutes to just stand there. Why couldn’t he have been born with normal parents? He remembered those old corny Christmas movies that he used to watch—and sometimes still did. The family would all be together, either eating together around a large table, or watching TV. They all looked so happy, he noticed. Even when things didn’t go so well, the parents were always there to cheer up everyone.
Desmond walked over to the glass cabinets that laid in the living room. Gently, he opened the doors and gently pulled out one of the photos inside. On it was a picture of him, his dad, and his mom, all smiling. His mom looked a lot like him, Desmond realized. Strange how she had just abandoned them. Well, throughout his life, Desmond had learned that things never lasted. His mom didn’t last two years with him. His dad couldn’t last a second with him. And—
BLARE! It was the school bus that always drove by to take some of the students to school. Startled, Desmond had dropped the picture. The glass frame had shattered into a million pieces.
Then an idea hit him. Desmond would be normal today. From now on, he would go to the regular school with regular kids. He liked the sound of that.
Desmond Clair was going to be normal.
last edited over a year ago
