Generation OneConfidential Diary Entries from The Community Center for Teenagers with Critical Criminal Tendencies Spring | SimYear 1Chapter One : The Man with the Goblet Howdy pardner! Know me? Yeah?
No? I'm VJ, THE VJ, the VJ Alvi.
Friend of Altos, friend of Lisa of the Bunch, friend of my teeny brother Miraj.
Enemy of everyone else, including my father.
And yeah, friend of the chick who shares the homeless shelter with us.
Oh! News to you?
Yes, the great Alvis', long being struggling on the brink of poverty, finally fell head first into bankruptcy.
Better start telling from the beginning before you start listening to anything *THEY* tell about me.
I am pretty new to Sunset Valley. Iqbal moved here when Mum left him. Yes, Iqbal is my Dad and no, I don't call him Dad anymore.
I used to love Mum. She had the prettiest face and the softest voice. I used to be pretty good at my studies those days.
She and Iqbal were always having these fights. She used to say it was because Iqbal was so lazy and didn’t care to earn enough to give us a good life.
Then one day, she wasn’t there when I returned home from school. A few hours later our aunt rushed in and took us to her place. It took a few days for Iqbal to show up. He clearly seemed to have been drunk. He muttered something about Mummy filing for a divorce.
I heard my aunts whispering that Mummy had run away with a rich man and they called her many bad words. Miraj was just a baby and didn't understand. I understood and ruined their best clothes.
It was not Mummy’s fault. Iqbal had driven her away. There was never enough money.
I just wished she had taken us with her.
So that’s how we landed here in Sunset Valley. I hated leaving my friends behind, but certainly not my snooty aunts. Iqbal did not even care to listen to us. So we moved over here.
Sunset Valley was-and still is so dull. We lived in the cheapest part in town, not much of an improvement from the old apartment we had lived in before. Then things went from bad to worse.
Iqbal was fired. It was not his fault. The boss had not been amused by the illustrations I had made on some official documents. For a moment I felt sorry for Iqbal. He certainly was not lazy now and spent most of the month working overtime. But it was his fault after all. If he had been so hardworking before, Mummy would have never left.
Whatever pity I had felt, it soon vaporized over the following days.
Iqbal had borrowed heavily to win the lawsuits to get sole custody over us. Now with no job, he had no way to pay them. The result? We were declared bankrupt and had to move to the ‘Shelter’.
My hate for Iqbal tripled. Not only had he separated us from our mother, he had made us believe that she hadn’t wanted us. Now we were reduced to nothing but living in a measely place.
“Come on VJ, SMILE.” Miraj said cheerfully. “It’ll be so posh! We’ll be next-door neighbours to the Altos and the Landgraabs!”
I looked at his bright face and smiled wanly. I love my little brother to bits. He is all I care for in the world.
"Whatever!" I shrugged. "Lets head off!"
As if we had any another option!
Landgraabs or Altos or what-nots, the homeless shelter looked pretty slimy.
It certainly didn't look welcoming. The walls and floors were just rough slates of wood hewed together.
I headed in hesitantly. It was better than I expected.
There was an easel. Some starving artist must have died here. Ghostly glory!
And a fridge, stove and a counter.
And some weird apparatus.
"That must be the rack." I said loudly for Iqbal to hear. "They must be torturing bankrupt blokes over there.
He glared at me and opened his mouth, and I bristled up in defense.
"Who the hell are you?" A shrill voice broke out. "And what the hell are you doing in my house?"
The new adversary in question was quite a pretty decent looking girl. She looked rather upset.
"Your home?" I retorted. "As far as I know this is a homeless shelter."
She looked about to burst into tears.
"Don't tell me I've got to share this place with three men!" She whimpered.
"Miraj is just a kid, but I'm sure he'll feel honoured." I snapped back.
"There's just one open dormitory." She said in shock, as if she hadn't heard me.
"Open or closed, what the hell are you doing here?"
Iqbal glared at me.
"I'm really sorry for the inconvenience." He butted in. "I'm Iqbal Alvi and these are my sons. We'll be here for some time, I'm afraid. But I assure you there'll be no trouble from us. And you are?"
"Rhea Olympia." she groaned. "I am new here and they hired me to look after this place but I had no idea that I would be sharing the place with three men."
"Yay! We have a maid." I said gleefully.
She surprised me by smiling sweetly.
"Sweet dreams honey." she said in a bored voice and turned to dad. "Iqbal, and I hope you don't mind me calling you that, I work at the bistro and you don't need to worry about your meals. The boys will have to help out with the cleaning and other chores and I hope you will pool in for the groceries."
"No problem." Dad smiled. "Don't mind VJ here, he's quite a handful. "I happen to be quite good at fishing so you need not worry much about getting good food."
Pah! He certainly liked fishing! He was always going away on a fishing expedition but didn't even have the time to take Mummy to the movies. No wonder she left him.
"Until the creditors come and torture him on the rack." I gestured grimly.
The girl looked puzzled for a moment and then burst out laughing.
"Oh that's a pedestal." She smiled. "An artist and sculpter lived here when I came. They landed a fancy deal in Bridgeport and didn't want their old stuff with them.
"Huh? Pedestal?" So much for my hopes!
"Yes, He would take some blocks and make sculptors on it. You should try it sometime, there are plenty of leftover blocks outside. I've always wanted to but never had any artistic flair."
"I think better not." Dad shook his head. "VJ has too much flair for trouble-making."
He truly was dumb, Dad was. Whatever he told me not to do, I loved doing.
I made my very first sculptor staying up that night. I have no idea how. I just closed my eyes and tried to imagine what life Mummy must have had wanted for her to leave.
I don't think it matched the sculptor of a barely dressed man, holding what Rhea called a goblet.
Rhea liked it. She practically called me a genius.
She's pretty that girl, such a nice smile. Much prettier than Lisa of the Bunch.
I wish I was older...