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Description
I have always lived the life of a prince – shielded from harm's sight, loved and protected. My days weren't numbered as if tomorrow was never there. My future, I never care for, and the present was all I knew. Recognized and honored - yes, that was I, and from that swoop my conceit. My friends never knew or paid attention to this at least. How could they? In fact, no one could. Fame and respect – I had it all, but who would have thought they were to meet a sudden ending? A tragedy, one could say in the midst of a comedy, where I had been playing the biggest part – being the valedictorian I mean: curtains down, people's backs, and the lights switched, but this is what started the show.

Without notice, I was informed that there was an immediate switching of cast and I, the leading man, was to be transferred to another play - another genre perhaps? I never knew. All I remember was that the leading man, I was no more. My script was entirely new - distinguished from the life I had lived. I was a prince! I knew this and nothing else! They knew this not however – the audience I mean. In fact, no one could. I started to feel nervous. Sweat dripping, heart beating, and the crowd watching; lights, silence, and there it was, in my hands right before me – the script. The script I could never read for its lines tore me apart. They were not of a prince but of a commoner! The crowd was there however and so was the crew, and I was to perform as I must. Sweat from my head touched my shivering lower lip as my tongue was to figure how I was to deliver. Finally, it came – the spark I mean. From my lips came two words, "I'm sorry." At that moment I was sorry from the bottom of my heart. I was sorry for myself and for the effort of the crew. I was sorry for my past and my mindless expectations. I was sorry for my conceit and my pointless illusions. I was no longer a prince. It was a little late to realize don't you think? I was no longer a prince. My script was wet now maybe with sweat and tears. Still, I started to read and to do my role as a commoner. Carefully, I studied the steps, the dance, and the song. It was them – the crew and my fellow artists. They taught me who I was, who I was to be, and who I am now. No longer am I a prince. I was a commoner in a new play, in a new script, in a new life. From then on I have loved my fellow artists from the bottom of my heart – my classmates I mean. In my dreams and in my hopes: the crew was always there. They were always the best they could be in their parts – better than I would ever be in mine, and I tried to reach them since that day, but who would have thought this play was to meet a sudden ending? The play ends here – my life in Jubilee I mean: curtains down, people's backs, and the lights switched, my life begins another show.

Description
I have always lived the life of a prince – shielded from harm's sight, loved and protected. My days weren't numbered as if tomorrow was never there. My future, I never care for, and the present was all I knew. Recognized and honored - yes, that was I, and from that swoop my conceit. My friends never knew or paid attention to this at least. How could they? In fact, no one could. Fame and respect – I had it all, but who would have thought they were to meet a sudden ending? A tragedy, one could say in the midst of a comedy, where I had been playing the biggest part – being the valedictorian I mean: curtains down, people's backs, and the lights switched, but this is what started the show.

Without notice, I was informed that there was an immediate switching of cast and I, the leading man, was to be transferred to another play - another genre perhaps? I never knew. All I remember was that the leading man, I was no more. My script was entirely new - distinguished from the life I had lived. I was a prince! I knew this and nothing else! They knew this not however – the audience I mean. In fact, no one could. I started to feel nervous. Sweat dripping, heart beating, and the crowd watching; lights, silence, and there it was, in my hands right before me – the script. The script I could never read for its lines tore me apart. They were not of a prince but of a commoner! The crowd was there however and so was the crew, and I was to perform as I must. Sweat from my head touched my shivering lower lip as my tongue was to figure how I was to deliver. Finally, it came – the spark I mean. From my lips came two words, "I'm sorry." At that moment I was sorry from the bottom of my heart. I was sorry for myself and for the effort of the crew. I was sorry for my past and my mindless expectations. I was sorry for my conceit and my pointless illusions. I was no longer a prince. It was a little late to realize don't you think? I was no longer a prince. My script was wet now maybe with sweat and tears. Still, I started to read and to do my role as a commoner. Carefully, I studied the steps, the dance, and the song. It was them – the crew and my fellow artists. They taught me who I was, who I was to be, and who I am now. No longer am I a prince. I was a commoner in a new play, in a new script, in a new life. From then on I have loved my fellow artists from the bottom of my heart – my classmates I mean. In my dreams and in my hopes: the crew was always there. They were always the best they could be in their parts – better than I would ever be in mine, and I tried to reach them since that day, but who would have thought this play was to meet a sudden ending? The play ends here – my life in Jubilee I mean: curtains down, people's backs, and the lights switched, my life begins another show.