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MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Secret Son
Scenario:Sarah is 16 and just moved to England from India and meets her best friend Amelia
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Sarah Green
female Sarah green is a Indian teen who just moved to England and lives with her lovely grandmother, Sarah loves things involving plants and her culture and traditions, she is about to start school full of euthasim her first time at public school after being homeschooled but is faced with many challenges, she is kind and sweet
Amelia Thompson
soft brown hair, green eyes, nurturing yet fiercely independent, she leans on her best friend Sarah
I was beyond excited when I finally got the news that I would be starting my school in a couple of days.
I had just moved to England with my parents a week ago.
My mom thought it would be good for me and my dad to move out of India for forseeable future, so we did.
I was going to miss India, but I was more excited to explore new places.
I had never been to England before.
I loved the climate and the people.
It had already become a home for me, all thanks to my lovely grandmother who lived here.
She took care of me so much, like a mother would, since my parents were busy with their work.
I was going to start school soon, and I couldn't wait to make new friends.
My new best friend Amelia Thompson was showing me around the school.
She was in the chess club and had won a couple of tournaments.
She had soft brown hair and green eyes.
She was leading me through the cafeteria during lunch break.
There were so many people around, but Amelia knew exactly where to go.
She pointed out different cliques and social groups, telling me who was who.
Suddenly, she tensed up and grabbed my arm.
"Let's go this way," she said, trying to steer me towards another table.
But before we could change direction, I saw him.
He was standing against the wall, wearing a leather jacket and looking like he owned the place.
He had two other guys with him, but they didn't seem to be paying much attention to him.
They were too busy staring at girls.
I couldn't help but stare at him too.
He was tall and lean, with dark hair that fell across his forehead in a messy way.
His eyes were a deep brown that seemed to see right through me.
"Who is that?"
I asked Amelia in a whisper.
"That's Ethan Blake," she whispered back, her voice barely audible over the noise of the cafeteria.
"He's kind of a troublemaker. He's always getting into fights and causing problems."
I couldn't believe it.
The guy I had been staring at was a troublemaker?
He looked so calm and collected, like he didn't have a care in the world. "Let's go," Amelia said, tugging on my sleeve.
"We don't want to get involved with him."
But I couldn't look away from him.
It was as if he had heard his name being mentioned and was now looking directly at me.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as our eyes met for the first time.
He smirked at me, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Amelia practically dragged me to an empty table on the other side of the cafeteria.
Still flustered from Ethan's smirk, I picked at my sandwich while Amelia talked about the chess club's next meeting.
Suddenly, a girl with bright blue hair and paint-stained fingers walked up to our table.
She was wearing a yellow cardigan that matched the color of her hair.
"Hey there, I'm Maya Chen," she said with a smile.
"I'm Amelia," Amelia replied.
"And this is my new friend."
I smiled and nodded at Maya.
Maya looked at my lunch, which consisted of traditional Indian dishes like rice and dal.
"Wow, what's that?" she asked, pointing to my food.
"It looks so colorful."
"It's Indian food," I explained.
"I'm from India. I just moved here recently."
"Oh, cool!" Maya said.
"I've never had Indian food before. It looks delicious. Is that a curry? The colors remind me of a painting I'm working on. It's of a sunset over the mountains. I'm in the art club here at school, and we're planning on doing a mural soon."
"Really?" Amelia asked.
"That sounds awesome!"
"Yeah, it will be," Maya said enthusiastically.
"We're going to do it on the side of the school building. It will be huge!"
"Wow, that sounds like a lot of work," I said.
"But it will be worth it if it turns out looking good."
"Yeah, definitely," Maya agreed.
"We're still in the planning stages right now. We have to decide on the design and colors and all that stuff. But we're hoping to start soon." "That sounds fun," Amelia said.
"Can anyone join?"
"Anyone who wants to help out can join," Maya replied.
"We could use all the help we can get. We're trying to get as many people involved as possible."
"Great!" Amelia exclaimed.
"We'll definitely join. We can't wait to help out."
"Awesome!" Maya said with a grin.
"I'll talk to you guys later then."
And with that, she walked away, leaving us to finish our lunch.
As we ate, we couldn't stop talking about the mural project.
It sounded like so much fun!
We were excited to get involved and help make it happen.
And who knows?
Maybe it would turn out to be an amazing piece of art!
A few days later, I was sitting in my history class when I noticed a girl with paint-stained fingers walk by the window outside my classroom door.
"Hey, isn't that Maya?" I whispered to Amelia, nudging her with my elbow.
Amelia glanced up from her notes and nodded. "Yeah, she's probably working on the mural already. I heard Ethan's been helping out too."
I blinked in surprise. "Ethan? The troublemaker?"
After class ended, I gathered my courage and told Amelia I was going to check out the mural site.
She frowned but didn't try to stop me.
I followed Maya's earlier directions and walked around the east side of the building.
There, against a blank wall, stood scaffolding.
The autumn breeze carried the sharp scent of fresh paint.
I spotted Maya organizing supplies on the ground while Ethan stood on the scaffolding, sleeves rolled up to reveal tattooed forearms.
He was carefully sketching flowing lines on the wall.
His movements were so precise and controlled, it contradicted everything I had heard about him being a troublemaker.
When he turned and saw me watching, his usual smirk softened into something more genuine.
Maya waved at me excitedly. "Hey! Come check it out!"
She beckoned me over.
"Do you want to help with the base colors?"
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, feeling the thrill of stepping into something new.
Maya handed me a wide brush and pointed to several buckets of paint in rich shades of blue and green.
"Which color do you like?"
I picked up the brush, feeling its weight.
The bristles were stiff, but I knew they would soften once I started painting.
I stood on the lowest level of scaffolding, looking up at the wall.
The blank expanse stretched out before me, waiting to be transformed.
I dipped the brush into the turquoise paint, watching as it glistened in the light.
The first stroke was tentative, a gentle caress against the wall.
I felt a sense of nervousness, unsure if I was doing it correctly.
But as I continued, my strokes grew bolder, more confident.
The paint flowed smoothly across the surface, leaving a vibrant trail behind.
I noticed that the paint was thicker than I expected, dripping slightly as I applied it.
Above me, I heard the scratch of Ethan's pencil as he continued sketching.
It was a soothing sound, rhythmic and steady. Maya climbed up beside me on the scaffolding.
She watched me for a moment before speaking.
"Let me show you something."
She took my hand gently and guided it to the wall.
"Apply even pressure," she explained, her voice soft but instructive.
"Feel the texture of the surface beneath your brush."
She moved my hand in a smooth motion, demonstrating the proper technique.
As I practiced, Maya offered encouragement and guidance.
Her patience and kindness made me feel more at ease with my lack of experience.
As I worked, I caught glimpses of Ethan above me, his focus entirely on his art.
He was completely absorbed in his task, oblivious to anything else around him.
Despite his reputation as a troublemaker, he seemed completely dedicated to this project.
I couldn't help but admire his passion and skill. Suddenly, some paint splattered onto my sleeve, leaving a small stain on my shirt.
I groaned in dismay as I tried to wipe it off with my hand, but only succeeded in smudging it further.
Ethan chuckled softly above me as he saw what happened. "Don't worry," Maya reassured me with a smile.
"It's just part of the process. It will come off easily later."
Despite her reassurance, I felt embarrassed by my mistake.
Ethan glanced down at me, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"First time painting?" he asked, his voice surprisingly warm.
I nodded sheepishly, and he grinned. "Don't sweat it. Everyone gets a little messy when they're creating something great."
While cleaning up paint supplies after another mural session, I noticed something wedged behind the metal scaffolding bars.
Curious, I reached between the poles and pulled it out.
It was a worn leather sketchbook.
The cover was scratched and weathered, with "E.B." etched in the corner.
I flipped it open, revealing page after page of stunning drawings.
There were detailed portraits of students, architectural studies of the school buildings, and abstract pieces filled with swirling shapes and colors.
Each sketch was filled with raw emotion, as if Ethan had poured his heart into every stroke.
My fingers traced over the lines of a haunting self-portrait of Ethan himself.
His eyes held a sadness I had never seen in person.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over the page.
Ethan stood there, his expression unreadable. "You found my sketchbook," he said quietly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. I looked up, meeting his gaze. "These are incredible, Ethan," I said softly.
My heart skipped a beat as his fingers brushed against mine while he took the sketchbook.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the mural site, and we stood close together.
He tucked the book carefully into his worn leather jacket, but didn't step away.
Instead, he pulled out a loose sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to me.
It was a delicate drawing of me painting the mural earlier.
The lines were so fine that they made me look almost elegant, despite my clumsy attempts.
I noticed dark smudges on his fingers from the charcoal he had used.
I tried to hand it back to him, but he shook his head.
"You should keep it," he said softly.
I nodded, feeling a connection I hadn't expected, as if the mural had painted us into each other's lives.
Gathering my courage after admiring his sketch of me, I mentioned how his flowing lines would complement the traditional Indian patterns I love to draw.
Ethan's eyes lit up with interest.
"Really? What kind of patterns?"
I pulled out my phone and showed him photos of the rangoli designs my grandmother and I create.
He leaned closer, his shoulder almost touching mine as he studied the intricate patterns.
"Wow, these are beautiful. How do you make them so symmetrical?"
I explained the process of using rice flour and colored powders to create the designs on the floor.
He asked thoughtful questions about the meaning behind each pattern and how they were used in different celebrations.
As we talked, an idea struck me.
"Why don't we combine your modern style with these traditional elements for the next section of the mural?"
Ethan nodded enthusiastically.
We sat on the scaffolding, shoulders almost touching, as I sketched a rough design in his book.
The next morning, I arrived early at the mural site, carrying a folder with my grandmother's photos of rangoli patterns for reference.
Ethan was already there, setting up paint cans and brushes on a tarp.
He had sketched our combined design onto the wall - flowing lines that merged his street art style with traditional Indian motifs.
I dipped my brush in deep purple paint and started working on a lotus pattern.
Ethan worked nearby, adding bold black outlines to his abstract shapes.
Our arms occasionally brushed as we worked side by side, neither of us speaking much but falling into a natural rhythm.
As the sun set, casting a warm glow over our creation, I realized we had painted more than just a mural.
We had painted a connection between two worlds, two styles, and two souls.
I was cleaning brushes in a bucket of water when Ethan approached me with nervous energy.
He ran his paint-stained hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the area.
"Hey, Sarah. I have an idea."
I set the brushes aside and turned to face him.
"What is it?"
He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort.
"I think we should organize a proper unveiling event for the mural. Invite local artists, students, families... anyone interested in art."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his enthusiasm.
"That's a great idea. But how would we make it happen?"
Ethan grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I've got some connections in the art community. I can reach out to local galleries and schools. We could even have food stalls with traditional Indian cuisine and demonstrations of rangoli-making."
I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to draw so much attention to myself and my grandmother's art.
But Ethan's words echoed in my mind - our combined artwork deserved recognition.
He must have sensed my hesitation because he gently touched my arm, his voice filled with understanding.
"Sarah, your grandmother's art deserves to be celebrated. And this mural is more than just a painting - it's a bridge between cultures and styles."
I looked at the mural again, seeing how our different approaches had merged into something unique and beautiful.
Slowly, I nodded.
Ethan's smile widened, and he squeezed my hand reassuringly.
"Great! I'll start making some calls tomorrow and get the ball rolling."
I felt a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves as I replied, "Okay, let's do it. This could be something really special."
As I set down the last clean brush, Ethan and I continued discussing the details of the event.
He suggested having the demonstration area near the mural, so people could see the artwork while learning about rangoli.
I nodded, and he pulled out his sketchbook to quickly draw a rough layout.
He showed me the sketch, his shoulder almost touching mine as we sat on a wooden bench in the courtyard.
The evening sun cast long shadows across the area, highlighting the vibrant colors of the mural.
Ethan pointed to a corner of the sketch, where he had marked food stalls.
His voice grew softer as he leaned closer to me.
"And here, we can have some seating for people to rest and enjoy the art."
As I turned to ask him about the timing of the event, I found his face inches from mine.
His dark eyes moved from my mouth to meet my gaze.
"Do you think we should have live music too?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, trying to focus on the question despite the sudden proximity.
"Yeah, maybe something with both traditional and modern influences to match the theme."
Ethan's gaze drifted back to my lips, and I felt a sudden jolt of electricity run through me.
Just as I was about to lean in, a woman's heels clicked on the pavement, interrupting the moment.
Ethan and I quickly shifted apart on the bench, his sketchbook sliding off his lap onto the ground.
The woman approached us, wearing a crisp blue suit and carrying a large purse.
Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her eyes sparkled with determination.
She stopped in front of us, smoothing her suit jacket as she introduced herself.
"Hi there. My name is Priya, and I'm from the Local Arts Initiative."
She gestured toward the mural behind us.
"I couldn't help but notice your artwork. It's incredible."
Ethan and I exchanged a glance, both of us still feeling the tension from our interrupted moment.
I cleared my throat to speak.
"Thank you. We're Ethan and Sarah, the artists."
Priya smiled warmly.
"I'm glad to meet you both. I actually heard about your project from Maya at school. She told me about your cultural fusion theme and how it's bringing people together."
I nodded, surprised that Maya had shared our work with others.
"That's right. We wanted to celebrate the beauty of blending different styles and traditions."
Priya's eyes lit up with excitement.
"I love that. And that's exactly why I'm here. The Local Arts Initiative wants to support projects like yours that promote cultural exchange and community engagement." Ethan raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"What does that mean?"
Priya continued, undeterred by his skepticism.
"We'd like to help organize an event for your mural. Invite local artists, students, families... anyone interested in art. We can provide resources for promotion, setup, and even some funding for materials."
Ethan leaned forward on the bench, his interest piqued.
"That sounds amazing. How have you organized events like this before?"
Priya smiled confidently.
"Well, we've worked with several local galleries and schools to showcase emerging artists. We've also helped coordinate exhibitions for festivals like Diwali and Navratri. I think we could do something really special for your mural unveiling."
As Priya spoke, her bangles clinked softly against each other.
Ethan nodded thoughtfully, his eyes darting between Priya and me.
"That sounds great. What would you need from us?"
Priya pulled out a business card from her purse and handed it to Ethan.
"I'd like to set up a meeting to discuss the details. Maybe we could all get together tomorrow evening? I'd love to hear more about your vision for the event."
I took the business card from Ethan, studying the embossed lettering.
Priya's contact information was neatly printed on the card, along with a logo of the Local Arts Initiative.
Ethan leaned back on the bench, his arm still touching mine.
The evening sun cast long shadows across our mural, highlighting the vibrant colors and blending of our different styles.
As Priya walked away, her heels clicking on the pavement, Ethan turned to me with a determined look in his eyes.
"Let's do this. Let's make something amazing happen."
I nodded, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility wash over me.
Together, we had created something beautiful.
Now, it was time to share it with the world.
