Share
MidReal Story
The Ashes of A.R.I.M.A.N.I.U.S.: A Historical Romance
Scenario:Melodies of Hollywood Arts
In the year 2090, the echoes of the past lingered in the air of Hollywood Arts, now transformed into a museum of memories. The once vibrant halls, filled with laughter and creativity, now stood silent, housing relics of a bygone era. Among the artifacts was a familiar face, Jade West, a former playwright and talent artist, now in her mid-80s, confined to a wheelchair. Her heart, however, remained as fierce as ever, a testament to the life she had lived.
As she wheeled herself into the auction room, the atmosphere buzzed with nostalgia. The auctioneer, a sprightly young man, showcased various items from the illustrious past of Hollywood Arts. There was Andre Harris’s piano locker, Ryan Aaron West’s play, Stargaze Angel, a rusty old puppet named Rex, Beck Oliver’s backpack, Tori Vega’s microphone, and even Trina’s high heel shoes. Each item told a story, a fragment of the lives that had once thrived within these walls.
But amidst the crowd, Jade’s gaze fell upon a familiar figure—Cat Valentine, now in her mid-70s, widowed and alone since the tragic loss of Robbie Shapiro. The fire set by the Crimson Bassilks Gang had taken so much from them, leaving scars that time could not heal. As their eyes met, a wave of shared sorrow washed over them, binding their hearts in a silent understanding of loss.
The auctioneer continued, his voice rising with excitement as he unveiled a music box, intricately designed and worn with age. Jade’s heart raced; it was her firstborn daughter’s music box, a cherished relic of Rebecca West, who had perished far too soon. Alongside it lay her younger sister’s songbook and her decorated locker, each item a painful reminder of the family she had lost.
Jade’s caretaker, a kind-hearted woman named Eliza, raised her paddle, bidding for the music box. Jade’s heart swelled with emotion as memories flooded back—Rebecca’s laughter, her dreams, the stories she had told her children. The music box was a piece of her past, a connection to the love that had once filled her life.
*Sikowitz, now in his late 90s, approached Jade, holding the music box gently in his hands. "It’s not your fault, Jade," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. "They are gone, but the pain they left behind is not yours to bear. The remnants of A.R.I.M.A.N.I.U.S. are no more. You did everything you could."
Jade’s tears fell freely as she recalled the day she lost Beck Oliver, her husband, in a car accident orchestrated by the same evil organization. "Why did they have to die, Sikowitz? Why couldn’t I save them?" she cried, her heart aching with the weight of her grief.
*Cat stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Jade’s shoulder. "We can’t change the past, Jade. But we can honor their memories. They live on in us, in the stories we tell, in the music we create."
As the auctioneer prepared to move on, a strange energy filled the room. Suddenly, the audience, along with Jade, Cat, and Sikowitz, were transported back in time, to the year they had first met at Hollywood Arts, long before the tragedies that would shape their lives.
The scene unfolded like a vivid dream. The main cast of Victorious’ ancestors roamed the halls of Hollywood Arts in the 1800s, their laughter echoing through the air. The Civil War raged outside, but within these walls, creativity flourished. Samuel Thaddeus Hansen, the founder of Hollywood Arts, was seen passionately teaching music, his great-granddaughter, Deborah Sikowitz, guiding students with a gentle hand.
Jade watched as her ancestors mingled with Cat’s, their destinies intertwined. Mr. and Mrs. Vega were newlyweds, their dreams of a family blossoming. Jade’s father, Mr. West, was seen leaving Hollywood Arts to pursue business, a decision that would haunt their family for generations.
As the vision faded, Jade found herself back in the auction room, the weight of her memories heavy upon her. The auctioneer’s voice broke through her reverie, announcing the final item—a scrapbook filled with stories of their past, tales of love, loss, and resilience.
Jade reached for it, her heart racing. This was not just a collection of memories; it was a testament to the lives they had lived, the battles they had fought, and the love that had endured through it all. As she held it close, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. Though the pain of loss would never fully fade, the melodies of Hollywood Arts would forever resonate in her heart, a reminder that their stories would live on, echoing through the generations to come.
In that moment, surrounded by the ghosts of her past, Jade West understood that while the world had changed, the essence of Hollywood Arts—the creativity, the friendship, the love—would never truly die. It would continue to inspire, to heal, and to bring people together, just as it had done for her and Cat all those years ago.
*And as the sun set over the museum, casting a warm glow on the artifacts of their shared history, Jade smiled through her tears, knowing that the melodies of Hollywood Arts would forever play on.
Create my version of this story
Jade West
She is a former playwright and talent artist at the nowdefunct Hollywood Arts. She is a grieving mother,struggling with the loss of her husband and daughters. She is a nostalgic,emotional,and resilient person. Jade holds onto memories of her past,particularly her time at Hollywood Arts,where she formed lifelong friendships. She is haunted by the tragic events that took her loved ones away but finds solace in the memories they left behind.
Cat Valentine
She is a retired actress and widow of Robbie Shapiro. She is a compassionate,strong,and determined person. Cat lost her husband to the same tragic circumstances as Jade’s family and stands by Jade during her emotional turmoil. Despite her own losses,Cat offers comfort and understanding,maintaining a supportive community of friends from their shared history at Hollywood Arts.
Eliza
She is Jade West's caretaker and companion. She is an empathetic,patient,and supportive person. Eliza provides emotional support and physical assistance to Jade during her daily activities,including attending auctions where Jade seeks comfort from familiar items. Eliza's presence offers Jade a sense of security and friendship,helping to alleviate some of Jade's loneliness.
Jade West sat in her wheelchair, her eyes fixed on the auctioneer as he held up a familiar item—a music box that played the lullaby "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."
The room was silent, the only sound coming from the auctioneer's gentle clearing of his throat.
"Next up for bid is this music box. It's said to have been owned by Rebecca West, a former student of Hollywood Arts."
Jade's heart skipped a beat as she reached for her paddle.
She had not been able to attend the previous auctions, but she had heard stories of the items that had been sold—Andre Harris's piano locker, Ryan Aaron West's play Stargaze Angel, a rusty old puppet named Rex that had belonged to Beck Oliver, Tori Vega's microphone, and even Trina's high heel shoes.
Each item told a story of their past, of the memories they had made at Hollywood Arts.
Jade had always been one for nostalgia, and attending the auctions brought her back to her life before everything went wrong.
Cat Valentine sat beside Jade, her hand on Jade's shoulder in comfort.
Sikowitz Hansen stood on Cat's other side, watching the auctioneer with interest.
He was the great-grandson of Samuel Thaddeus Hansen, the founder of Hollywood Arts.
Sikowitz had been a friend of Jade's throughout her life, and even more so after Beck died.
"I raise my paddle higher as the bidding begins, my hands trembling slightly. The music box sits on display, its worn brass catching the fluorescent lights.
Other bidders join in, driving the price up, but Eliza matches each bid without hesitation.
My throat tightens as memories of Rebecca flood back—her tiny fingers winding the key, the tinkling melody lulling her to sleep.
The auctioneer's voice grows distant as I fixate on the familiar scratches and dents on the box's surface.
When he finally calls "Sold!" Eliza squeezes my shoulder in triumph.
Clutching the music box in my lap, I wheel myself toward a quiet corner of the room.
My fingers trace the worn edges, feeling the weight of history in my hands.
Eliza helps me open it, and the familiar tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" fills the air.
The melody is slightly off-key from age, but it's still beautiful.
Cat shuffles closer, humming along softly as Sikowitz stands guard nearby.
I close my eyes, remembering Rebecca dancing to this tune in her pink pajamas.
The music slows, growing distorted until it stops completely.
I try winding the key again, but the mechanism stays silent.
"Jade, do you think it still holds her secret?" Cat asked softly, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Jade nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Rebecca always said the music box knew where she hid the letters."
Sikowitz leaned in, his expression serious. "Then we need to find those letters, Jade. They might explain everything."
I examine the box more closely, running my fingers along the edges until I find a small catch hidden beneath the decorative trim.
With trembling hands, I press it, and a false bottom springs loose.
Cat gasps beside me while Sikowitz leans in closer.
Inside, nestled among yellowed paper and forgotten memories, lies an envelope addressed to me in Rebecca's careful handwriting.
Before I can open it, the envelope slips from my grasp and flutters beneath a nearby display case.
Eliza kneels down, trying to reach it, but her fingers can't quite stretch that far.
I grip the arms of my wheelchair, frustration welling up inside me.
"Excuse me," Eliza calls out to a museum attendant.
"Could you help us move this case so we can retrieve the envelope?"
The museum attendant returns with a long-handled grabbing tool.
He kneels down beside the display case, maneuvering the tool underneath.
I watch anxiously as he tries to fish out the envelope.
The metal claw scrapes against the floor several times before finally catching the edge of the paper.
My hands grip the armrests of my wheelchair as he slowly pulls it out, careful not to tear it.
When he finally hands it to me, I notice that Rebecca's familiar cursive handwriting has faded slightly over the decades.
The paper feels delicate between my fingers as I carefully break the seal.
Inside, I find a single photograph of Rebecca, smiling, with the words "Find me" scrawled on the back.
I stare at the photograph, my mind racing with questions.
Who took this picture of her?
And what does the "Find me" message mean?
The museum's fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting an artificial glow over everything.
Cat leans in closer to examine the photo more carefully.
Her eyes narrow as she studies it.
"Wait," she says, her voice filled with realization.
"There's something in the background."
I tilt my head, trying to make out what she's seeing.
Eliza takes out her tablet and uses an app to enhance the image.
As the picture comes into focus, I can see that Rebecca is standing in front of a locker.
It's not just any locker; it's one of the decorated lockers from Hollywood Arts.
I remember seeing those lockers on display at an auction house a few months ago.
Eliza quickly checks the auction records on her tablet.
After a moment, she looks up and says, "The locker in the picture was sold at auction last month to a local collector." My hands grip the arms of my wheelchair tightly.
This means Rebecca left more clues inside that locker before she disappeared.
We have to find out who bought it and get access to that locker before any restoration work begins.
"Eliza," I say, my voice urgent.
"I need you to make some calls."
Eliza nods, her fingers already flying across the screen of her tablet.
I wait anxiously in my wheelchair, my hands gripping the photograph tightly.
Twenty minutes later, Eliza finally gets off the phone.
"The collector's name is Marcus Chen," she says.
"He's an eccentric art dealer who lives in downtown Los Angeles."
Cat recognizes the name.
"Isn't he the one who specializes in preserving Hollywood Arts memorabilia?"
Eliza nods.
"That's right. And according to my sources, he's planning to restore the locker and display it in his private collection."
Sikowitz leans forward, his eyes narrowing.
"We need to pay him a visit. Now."
I feel my hands trembling slightly at the thought of what other secrets Rebecca's locker might hold.
Eliza wheels me toward the museum exit while she coordinates our visit with Marcus Chen through her tablet.
Cat glances at me, her eyes filled with determination.
"Do you think he'll let us see it?" she asks.
Sikowitz chuckles softly, a hint of mischief in his voice.
"We'll make him an offer he can't refuse."