Generation 1.2

It turned out to be Mango Peel, my only friend from the orphanage. Completely unexpected and unannounced, but that was Mango. She was a little older than me, and we were probably as different as night and day. She’d been there when I first arrived at the orphanage all those years ago, however. Mango had taken one look at me being a shrinking violet in the corner, marched over and pronounced that we were going to be best friends forever. I’m happy to say she stuck true to her word.

“Wow, Nill,” she exclaimed after catching sight of me in the garden. “You weren’t kiddin’ when you said this place was ‘outside of town.’ You’re practically out in the boonies!”

“It’s a little out of the way,” I agreed with a smile, “but I like the peace and quiet. The soil is great out here, perfect for growing plants.”

Mango just shook her head with an indulgent laugh. “You and your plants, I swear.”

“So what brings you out this way?” I wondered aloud. Not that I minded Mango’s visit—it was nice to talk to a sim rather than a plant every once in a while—but my outgoing friend usually had a reason for everything, no matter how convoluted. I wasn’t to be disappointed this time, either.

“I knew you’d be shutting yourself up in this house all alone after getting out of the orphanage,” Mango began, “and as your bestie it is my sworn duty to make sure you get out and enjoy some night life every now and again.”

My belly sank with apprehension. “Night life? What do you mean?”

Mango grinned with excitement. “There’s a new club that’s just opened up downtown, the Tic-Tac Room. You and me are gonna go tear it up tonight in celebration of our newfound independence.”

“Oh . . . I dunno, Mango,” I protested somewhat weakly. Berry, I could already feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat and we were just TALKING about going. “You know I don’t do well in crowds of people . . .”

Mango stood her ground though, getting that stubborn look on her face that I knew all too well. “You need to go out every once in a while, Nill,” she protested firmly. “Staying out here in the sticks all by yourself day in and day out isn’t healthy. How else are you gonna meet your Prince Charming if you don’t put yourself out there?”

I nearly snorted at the thought. Prince Charming? Interested in me? Not likely. I was colorless and skinny as a rail, not to mention unable to carry on normal everyday conversation with anyone but Mango and my plants. Still . . . I couldn’t deny that my heart fluttered at the thought. What if? my inner-hopelessly-romantic-dreamer whispered encouragingly. I certainly wasn’t going to meet anyone staying out here on the farm all the time, only going into town to sell my crops. What if I DID meet my Prince Charming that night? Could I really pass up that chance?

That night I put on my best dress and met up with Mango outside the club. I was so nervous and scared I thought I was gonna be sick. This was sooooooo far out of my comfort zone it wasn’t even funny.

Mango was in her element of course. She strode in boldly, leaving me to trail in behind her much more timidly. There weren’t many people there, but the night was early yet. That was sure to change, and I was terrified.

“Mango . . . are you really sure about this?” I second-guessed myself worriedly. “All these lights and the music . . . it’s not really my thing.”

Mango sighed and gave me a quick hug. Sympathetic to my fears, but determined to pry me out of my shell at the same time. Kicking and screaming if she had to. “Trust me, Nill. I know it’s hard, but try and forget about everything and just let yourself have some fun. I’m gonna dance, you wanna join me?”

Dance? In public? With people watching? I’d rather die. “N-no, that’s okay. I think I’ll just . . . go get some juice. You have fun though.”

Mango looked a little disappointed, and I felt bad, but she nodded and waved me off.

I made my way over to the bar and stutteringly ordered a drink. The bartender didn’t give any indication that he noticed or cared about my nerves. Behind me I could hear the sounds of someone asking Mango to dance.

Mango, ever the out-going party girl, was quick to agree.

I couldn't help but smile. At least one of us might find love tonight, it seemed. I was happy for Mango, though a part of me still couldn’t help but cringe in defeat. Why did I have to be so shy? Why couldn’t I be confident and outgoing like Mango was? Not to mention as pretty.

Just as I was sinking ever deeper into my rut of self-pity, I suddenly noticed someone sit down at the bar to my left.

And then a deep, velvet-rough voice that literally sent shivers up my spine, “give me a double, Red. It’s been a helluva day.”

I glanced over out of my peripheral toward the newcomer, and then nearly forgot how to breathe. Oh blessed Berry above . . . .

((There, 2 in one day just to get things started on a good foot since part 1 is always so bland. Of course, this part ends with a cliffhanger of sorts . . . But oh well. Tune in tomorrow to find out who this hunky Mr. Mystery is!))