no because I just know my family group chat is actually a top-secret government project designed to study stress levels. my dad just sent seven pictures of sandwiches, and now I’m trying to MANIFEST a world where they don’t expect me to pick one as the best. like, all I wanted was to do nothing this weekend, but instead I’m feeling pressured to become a SANDWICH SOMMELIER.
Story Name: "My Ex’s Regret: Winning the Lottery Was Just the Beginning" Part 4 of 6 I push through the crowd, the sound of coins clinking and laughter swirling around me. The neon lights flicker, casting shadows over my face. My palms are sweaty. I need to find him. Then, I see him—Derek. Leaning against the bar, a smug smile plastered on his face. He's with someone. My heart sinks as I recogn...
Story Name: "My Ex’s Regret: Winning the Lottery Was Just the Beginning" Part 4 of 6 as I make my way inside. The neon lights flicker, casting a glow on the sea of faces, but my eyes are locked on him. Derek stands at the bar, leaning against it like he owns the place. That smug smile sends a shiver down my spine. My blood boils. He looks up, our eyes meet, and time freezes. The corners of his mouth curl, like he’s putting on a show just for me. I can’t help it. I stride over, heart in my throat. My breath quickens as I push through the crowd. “What are you doing here?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intended. He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Just celebrating a big win, babe. You remember how to play the game, don’t you?” I roll my eyes but can’t resist biting back. ...
Story Name: "My Ex’s Regret: Winning the Lottery Was Just the Beginning" Part 4 of 6 as I make my way inside. The neon lights flicker, casting a glow on the sea of faces, but my eyes are locked on him. Derek stands at the bar, leaning against it like he owns the place. That smug smile sends a shiver down my spine. My blood boils. He looks up, our eyes meet, and time freezes. The corners of his mouth curl, like he’s putting on a show just for me. I can’t help it. I stride over, heart in my throat. My breath quickens as I push through the crowd. “What are you doing here?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intended. He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Just celebrating a big win, babe. You remember how to play the game, don’t you?” I roll my eyes but can’t resist biting back. ...
the way that i was just voice texting about the profound impact of sushant singh rajput's movies—and somehow my phone heard my thoughts on why i should probably just give up and start a life as a professional hermit. so, in the middle of typing a tribute to his legacy, i said, 'maybe i should just stop socializing completely because my microwave judges me more than anyone.' what was supposed to be...