Content Warning! Some mild swearing

Bridgeport, Mid-21st Century
Journal Entry for Leah Evans

I suppose you could call me a snob, but I don’t see myself that way. Others might, but that only means they don’t know the real me. I just simply wanted something better for my life than what I was getting in the quiet town of Sunset Valley. I couldn’t wait to move out on my own and relocate to the bustling city of Bridgeport. I wanted to be where there were more opportunities. The idea of actual nightlife intrigued me, as did the stars, glitz, and glamour of the city. .Sure, you could consider me a snob because of this. But trust me! There is more to me than that.

I didn’t have it so easy growing up. I was an only child raised by a single father. I loved him like the devoted daughter I was. My dad was amazing, but like all of us, he had his faults. He was a dreamer and schemer with big plans that very seldom worked out. Each failure took more of a toll on him until one day, he just couldn’t hold onto life anymore. I will never forget the morning I found him dead in his bed with an empty pill bottle beside him and a suicide note apologizing for failing me and asking me to understand.

For a long time, I was angry; angry at him for leaving me the way he did and angry at myself for not seeing this coming. I did the only thing I could, and that was to cope somehow. I donated what I could to the Salvation Army, put our house on the market where it sold quickly, packed up my stuff, and headed to Bridgeport.

With the sale of the house, what I’d earned from my job as a bookstore manager, and the income from Dad’s insurance, I was able to buy a lovey apartment in Bridgeport that I referred to as my sanctuary. I’d always wanted to be a famous author, so I got right to work polishing up pieces I’d written, then starting my first romance novel. In the beginning, I accrued so many pink rejection slips that I could’ve wallpapered my entire apartment with them. I sank into a depression for a while and wanted to just pack it in. The thing that began to give me hope was when one of my short stories was finally accepted for publication in a romance magazine called True Confessions. Things did a complete 180 after that. My stories were picked up right away, and my novels sold like wildfire. I was finally well on my way.

Like many authors, I’ve always been a voracious reader. I’m a shameless fangirl of many authors, but I will freely admit that I’m completely obsessed with Lenora Landgraab’s books. I haven’t met her, but that it right at the top of my bucket list. She is an inspiration to all and such a great role model. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s this uniqueness to her and her works I find both curious and refreshing. I guess what it comes down to is I want to be Lenora Landgraab when I grow up.

I was devouring one of Lenora’s newer books and reveling in just how magical it was. I’m not exactly a naysayer when it comes to Supernatural stuff, but Lenora’s work always makes me want to embrace a full belief that some degree of it exists somewhere. I completely lost track of time as I read, not realizing a storm was howling until I closed the book and was rooted, once again, in my own world. Oh, I loved the city; it was everything I’d dreamed it would be. My apartment was beautiful, but it was definitely a lot for just one girl.

With a sigh, I put away the book, changed into my nightie, and solemnly ate a grilled cheese sandwich as i contemplated just how lonely I was. When I’d get in this sort of mood, I’d go clubbing with a girlfriend or attend the theater. I’d have the occasional date, but no long-lasting relationship ever materialized. I would have gone out tonight, but the idea of getting soaked and battling the raging winds certainly wasn’t appealing. So, I figured staying in, popping some popcorn, and watching a romantic movie on Netflix would have to suffice. Tonight was to be Love’s Immortal Heart, a Lenora Landgraab bestseller made into a movie starring Matthew Hamming and Olivia Barrister. I loved the book and was itching to see the movie. Matthew and Olivia were two of my very favorite actors, so I was certain I was in for a real treat.

The movie was wonderful! I was sniffling and drying my eyes as I crawled into bed. Then, I snorted with dry humor as I thought of my own life. I certainly wasn’t in Lenora’s league, but I, too, was a romance writer who wrote steamy love scenes, penned words of undying love, and carved out eternal promises…but I was alone. There was no knight in shining armor to defend my honor nor an unsung hero with a checkered past to sweep me off my feet. Well, someday…maybe someday.

I awoke the next morning to the strangest tingling sensation, the fine hairs on my skin standing on end. My nerve endings buzzed with some sort of energy I had no explanation for. It continued as I prepared breakfast and got ready for my day. I had the weirdest feeling that something was going to happen that would forever impact my life.

I tried not to think about the lingering sensation as I called a cab and headed for the movie studio. My writing was going extremely well, as I’ve said, and I’d been thrilled when I’d been asked to write the screenplay for a romantic movie that was to begin production soon. I was asked to come to the studio to collaborate with the powers that be.

Never would it have ever occurred to me that an elevator would be the catalyst in this life-altering event that destiny or whatever had in mind.

Jacob was said to have wrestled with an angel. Me, I knew I was wrestling with a demon, for the damned elevator seemed to have a mind of its own. It was hellbent on slamming its doors on me as I tried to exit. One would have thought that a prestigious movie studio such as this would have perfectly working elevators.

The final indignity came when my ankle turned and I went sprawling, half of me inside the accursed thing and half of me on the cold, tile floor. When I opened my eyes, the first thing i saw was an elegant rug. Swearing none-too-softly, I started to get to my hands and knees, then realized a pair of immaculately polished, shiny, black shoes were planted right in front of me.

“Oh, shit! Ms. Evans, are you hurt?”

That voice! That! Voice!

I slowly raised my gaze and fainted dead away when it landed on the handsome face of Matthew Hamming.

When I came to, I found myself lying on a leather sofa, a cool cloth on my forehead and someone chafing my wrists. Opening my eyes, I discovered, to my utter humiliation, that it was Matthew Hamming chaffing my wrists and looking at me, a worried frown creasing his brow. I groaned and covered my face, wishing heartily that the sofa cushions would just swallow me up.

“There you are. I was getting worried,” Matthew said in his soft, cultured voice.

“I-I…oh, God! I have never been so embarrassed in all my life,” I blurted lamely.

A charming grin replaced the furrow of worry. “Don’t be. That elevator has been giving us all nightmares for three months now. I swear, the thing is possessed.”

Before I could stop myself, a burbling laugh escaped. “I was thinking the very same thing as it tried to saw me in half.”

“Well, maintenance just got an earful, so they’d better get right on it if they know what’s good for them. Are you feeling better?” Matthew asked.

“My ankle. It hurts.”

Matthew took my foot in his big hands, prodded the tender area, and gently moved it. When I winced, he retrieved a couple of throw pillows and propped my foot on them. “It’s a little swollen. Probably nothing too serious, but I reckon it’s lightly sprained. Do you want to go to the ER?”

I shook my head, wrinkling my nose in disgust. I hated hospitals and doctors. “No, thank you. I think I’ll just go home and put it up. I’ll pop some Tylenol and go to bed. I was to consult with Geoffrey Howard on my screenplay.”

“I’ll PM him and tell him you aren’t feeling well. Then, I can take you home,” Matthew said.

“No, no, Mr. Hamming,” I said quickly. “You’ve done too much already.” I wasn’t used to anyone taking care of me. I’d been on my own for years, after all.

“it’s Matthew, and it’s no trouble, Ms. Evans. I’ll just sign myself out and come back to collect you. My limo is nearby.”

“Limo?” I squeaked.

He smirked slightly. “it’s one of the niceties I enjoy, thanks to my career.”

“Call me Leah. I…just don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me. You don’t know me from Eve.”

Matthew grinned at me, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, well, Eve was never my type. No, I don’t know you, but I intend to remedy that. Besides, my pal Olivia is a huge fan of your work.”

I gawped incredulously at him. “Olivia…Barrister…likes my work?”

Matthew chuckled and closed my jaw with a forefinger. “You’ll catch a fly,” he teased me, which made me blush to the roots of my hair. “Hell, Leah, Olivia loves your work. She’s always the first to grab your newest stuff when it’s released.”

True to Matthew’s word, his limo was easily accessible. I made a token protest when he swooped me into his arms and carried me to it, he and his chauffeur situating me inside as gently as they could. Matthew carried me into my apartment and put me on my sofa. Once again, he placed pillows under my ankle to prop it up. He even stayed with me for a couple hours, leaving only when he was convinced I would be all right.

Since then,, Matthew became an important and steady fixture in my life. We began dating regularly and spent as much time together as our lives and careers would allow. I never had any grand ideas that it would last. After all, Matthew was known for his wandering eye and reputation as a player. He’d never been married, nor had he stayed with any one woman for long.

That was how it was with him…until me.

I was irrevocably in love with Matthew Hamming but was so afraid I’d get my heart broken.

I needn’t have worried. The depth of Matthew’s love knew no bounds. For the first time in my life, I was utterly complete.

Matthew and i were married in a beautiful ceremony with all the fanfare a famous actor could get. My career was going wonderfully, and I achieved my own notoriety as more and more of my work hit the bestseller lists. We decided to sell his house and live in my apartment, as it was suited more for a couple entertaining the possibility of beginning a family. We were joyously happy except for one thing.

Matthew was’t getting any younger, and neither was I, for that matter.

Three months after our wedding, I awoke to find a note and two sparkling bottles with a strange, glowing liquid inside. Again, I felt that strange tingling I’d felt the day I met Matthew. What unfolded next cemented my belief that somehow, some way, the Supernatural does exist somewhere. With shaking fingers, I picked up the note and read.
Dearest Leah,
     First off, let me apologize if this finding has alarmed you in any way. I assure you, this is a gift to you and your dear husband. There is no ulterior motive or malice contained in either this note or the bottles. It is a rare gift I bestow upon you both with my deepest blessings. Think of me as your fairy godmother who wishes for you and your Matthew to enjoy many, many more years together, years you would not have otherwise. I’m a believer in absolute and true love, which the two of you undoubtedly share. Also, talent such as what you both have should be enjoyed for as long as possible. Drink it in good heath, be good to each other, and love forever.
Your Fairy Godmother and a true fan

Because Matthew and I aren’t ones to shrink away in fear, what else could we do but drink the stuff?

We did get younger. In fact, we haven’t aged a day since we took the strange potion. The lines in Matthew’s face disappeared, and twenty years apparently melted away in the blink of an eye. The aches and pains I was feeling in my own body disappeared, and I feel all of twenty-two. Matthew and I suppose we will never know who this strange fairy godmother person was, but we are so thankful for the priceless gift she has given us.

Matthew and I live a wonderful life filled with activities, laughter, and love. We attend each other’s doings as much as we are able, and both of us are understanding when our careers consume our time more than usual. I frequently tease Matthew about how the first two words he ever said to me were, “Oh, shit!” He ribs me that his very presence made me swoon. Thankfully, the demonic elevator has been exorcised. There has never been a happier couple than us.

Matthew and I are truly blessed beyond measure. I’m still so amazed I’m sharing my life with my soulmate. As we sit eating breakfast, I find myself smiling at him a lot. I have something to tell him, something I’m certain is happening. Still, I want to be completely sure first, I have a pregnancy test in the bathroom and feel in my bones it’ll read positive. I can’t wait.

I can’t wait to tell my husband we’re expecting.

Author’s Notes: Leah was a Sim I created years and years and years ago. I played her a lot way back when, put her away for quite a long time, then dusted her off last week. My intention was to have her get with Matthew Hamming, but we never ran into him until now. When we did, he and Leah hit it right off, so we snagged him. When they got married, he had one day before becoming an elder. I loved the two of them so much that they both got Young Again and Age Freeze Potions.

Who is this benevolent fairy godmother? Does anyone have a guess?

I do hope you all enjoyed this installment. If you want to see more of them, simply tell me in the comments, and I can make it happen.

If you want Leah in your game, you can download her from my studio here. She does contain CC that may or may not show up in your game. If you want to put her with Matthew, you can grab him from Bridgeport. The house they are living in is a creation by Curtis Paradis. You can find it on his page here. There is also a video on YouTube of Curtis building this apartment.

As always, thanks for reading, subscribing, liking, commenting, and lurking.