Create my version of this story
Allison
first_person_protagonist, female. She is a college student attending a university on a full scholarship. She is determined, independent, and compassionate. Allison lost her parents in a car accident when she was sixteen and had to raise her younger brother, Ryan, on her own. She works parttime at a bookstore and volunteers at a soup kitchen, where she meets Ryan Fletcher, a quiet and reserved boy who is also alone. Her heart races when she sees him again seven years later.
Benjamin
side_character, male. He is Ryan's personal tutor hired by his grandparents' lawyer. He is intelligent, stern, and composed. Benjamin helps Ryan navigate his academic struggles and prepares him for his future responsibilities within their family fortune. His demeanor provides structure in Ryan's chaotic life.
Jared
side_character, male. He is the son of Allison's landlord and part of her social circle. He is charming, mischievous, and confident. Jared often teases Allison but has genuine feelings for her. He provides comic relief but also creates tension due to his interest in Allison, which makes their friendship complicated.
The city is on edge.
Protests have been filling the streets for the past few days.
Rumors of a possible draft have everyone on high alert.
People are demanding change, and the government isn’t doing much to ease their fears.
As I walk down the street, I’m surrounded by protesters holding signs and banners.
The crowd is thick, everyone moving in the same direction, all heading toward the city square.
I dodge between them, careful not to get trampled in the mess.
My destination is a few blocks away from where the protests are happening, but it’s hard to avoid them all together.
Once I cross an intersection, things start to die down.
A few blocks later and there’s almost no one left.
I turn a corner and in front of me is a school for underprivileged kids.
I’ve been volunteering here for the past few months.
I push open the heavy wooden doors and step inside.
My footsteps echo on the worn linoleum floor.
The familiar scent of chalk dust and cleaning supplies fills my nose.
Down the main corridor, excited squeals and giggles spill from the gymnasium where the party is being set up.
I pause at the entrance, watching kids run back and forth with streamers and balloons in their hands.
Ryan stands awkwardly by the refreshment table, arranging cookies with careful precision while Benjamin hovers nearby, checking his watch for what feels like the hundredth time.
Across the room, Jared catches my eye and grins, walking over with that confident stride of his that always makes me smile.
He leans in close and whispers, "Are you ready to change the world?"
I lean against the refreshment table, watching as Jared’s hands dance in the air, illustrating his latest idea for a youth outreach program.
His enthusiasm is infectious, but my attention keeps drifting back to the window where distant chants from the protests echo through the city streets.
Benjamin clears his throat, tapping his watch pointedly.
"Ryan, don’t forget you have an economics lesson this afternoon."
Ryan’s shoulders slump slightly, but he nods and continues mechanically arranging the cookies.
I notice his hands are trembling just a bit – the same nervous tick he had when we were kids.
Suddenly, Samantha bursts through the gymnasium doors, out of breath and flushed.
"The protesters are heading this way!"
The children stop their decorating, faces turning toward the growing noise outside.
I watch Jared’s eyes light up as the chants grow louder.
He paces back and forth near the refreshment table, checking his phone every few seconds.
"Perfect timing," he mutters to himself, "we can make a real difference here."
The children huddle closer together, some excited by the commotion, others nervous.
Ryan abandons his cookie arrangement and moves closer to Benjamin, who places a steady hand on his shoulder.
Samantha tries to redirect everyone’s attention back to the party preparations, but Jared’s restless energy is contagious.
He keeps glancing at the storage closet in the corner of the room, where I know the school keeps their event equipment.
With a determined nod, Jared strides toward the storage closet, ready to transform the gymnasium into a beacon of hope.