What Happens At The End Of Shitty Craft Club?

I had a best friend who was sweet as honey but only with her mouth. Behind my back, she was a demon. She stole my boyfriend, the underboss of the Chicago Outfit. Her excuse? She wanted to keep me away from the darkness and the blood, so she'd take the suffering in my place. She pawned her wedding ring and fed her husband some story about a limited edition bag for me. She skimmed from her husband's company accounts and pinned it on my male escort habit. She was pregnant and still wanted thrills. So she went to a full-blown orgy with her husband's uncle and a group of his associates. That's how she ended up hemorrhaging. But somehow it was my fault. I was the one who organized that kind of party, according to her. And her story? She tried to stop me, so I pushed her down and made her lose the baby. In the end, her husband sent me to a cartel hellhole in Mexico to atone for my sins. There, her lover sold me to the red-light district. First came the addiction. Then the streets. I served every man in their outfit, one after another. My body rotted. I died slow, sick, and alone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night my best friend miscarried because of her own filthy party.

High School Love! It all starts with the good girl meeting the bad boy and falling in love with him, fighting the battles together, letting out deepest secrets and at the end of the day, they live happily ever after! But is that really it? What happens AFTER!After getting each other's heart.After fighting for each other.After the whole mushy and cliche love.After all the promises.After high school. Just After!

On the night before we're supposed to register our marriage, our friends suggested playing a mystery box game. Each of the men puts a gift into a box, and the boxes are randomly handed out to the women. They all say this is the fairest way to play this game. When I open mine, there's only a single card inside that reads, "Thank you for participating." The room falls silent for a moment. Then, someone can't help snickering. My fiance, Hunter Sinclair, ruffles my hair. "Your luck is still as bad as ever." My childhood friend, Gabriel Unwin, lowers his voice and says, "Smile. Don't make people think you can't take a joke." At the same round, Tiffany West opens her box and finds the grand prize inside. The box contains a pink diamond necklace personally chosen by Hunter and a voucher for the island getaway I've talked about for three years. There is also a handwritten card from Gabriel. It says, "We'll always be here to protect you." I smile along with everyone else and slip my card back into the empty box. A raffle is all about luck, after all. Later, as I head to the restroom, I overhear the host checking the prize list in the lounge. He says, "Mr. Sinclair, everything was handed out correctly, right? The grand prize went to Ms. West, and the consolation prize went to Ms. Lawson." Hunter hums in confirmation. Gabriel laughs and adds, "That's right. She'll find a way to make herself feel better." Standing outside the door, I suddenly remember my 18th birthday. I waited in the rain for the midnight fireworks celebrating my coming of age. But Hunter and Gabriel held the only umbrella over Tiffany instead. Looking back at me, they said, "Natalie, your house is closer. Just run a couple of steps, and you're safe from the rain." That night, I went home soaked to the bone. I even made excuses for them, telling myself that it was just my bad luck. But tonight, I finally understand. The umbrella was never meant for me in the first place. So this time, I tear up that card and decide not to go through with our marriage registration. I'm done playing the game of luck they've rigged from the very beginning.

Before we submit our college applications, I help our homeroom teacher hand out each student's sealed official records envelope as the class monitor. But the class belle, Vivian Nash, says she's an art student who's about to debut as a celebrity. To thank everyone for taking care of her, she asks the whole class to tear open their sealed envelopes and slip one of her glamor shots inside so they can "share in her good luck." My boyfriend, Brandon Dunn, immediately steps up as her childhood friend. He says he doesn't just want one of her photos, but he also wants her autograph on his envelope. Afraid something might go wrong, I immediately warn him that opening the sealed envelope could negatively affect his application to Caldoria University's School of Foreign Service. Before I can even finish speaking, Brandon kicks me hard in the stomach. The other students laugh and mock me. "You're just stirring up trouble for no reason. Everyone knows what you're really thinking. You're just afraid Vivian will get back together with your boyfriend!" I'm so furious I can't even find the words. But due to my responsibility as the class monitor, I call our homeroom teacher over and forcefully stop the absurd stunt. Later, everyone gets into their dream colleges. Well, everyone except for Vivian. At our class reunion six months later, Vivian suddenly bursts into tears in front of the entire class. She accuses loudly, "Why did you isolate me? It's your fault I made a mistake on my college application!" I'm dumbfounded. Suddenly, she grabs me by the throat and forces poisoned liquor down my throat. I die before I can be saved. After my death, Brandon and our classmates all defend Vivian. They even paint me as the class bully. Meanwhile, she goes viral by livestreaming her sob story and quickly becomes a rising celebrity. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment Brandon is eagerly playing the gallant knight backing up his damsel. This time, I take the initiative and hand him his sealed envelope. "I think Vivian is right. It'd be nice to keep one of her photos as a souvenir."

On New Year's Eve, my boyfriend, Brian Eggert, gives me a second-hand fake bag as my New Year's gift. Angered, I break up with him immediately before I run off to meet my best friend, Cathy Capshaw, so that I can complain about him to her. Unexpectedly, the moment I see Cathy, I suddenly hear her inner voice. "Finally, you've broken up with Brian, you bitch! He never prepared a second-hand fake bag for you—I was the one who swapped bags when both of you weren't paying attention! "I suppose you don't know jackshit, huh? The man whom you've just broken up with is actually the richest man in town. He was planning to propose to you tonight, too! "Why should you have the best guy alive? From now on, he's mine!" After hearing Cathy's inner voice, I quickly check the security footage. As expected, I see her swapping bags sneakily. Later on, I cut off all ties with Cathy and quickly reconcile with Brian after clearing up the misunderstanding with him. Soon, we get married. What I don't expect is that Brian doesn't have money at all after our marriage. On top of that, he even racks up a huge debt. Every day, I'm forced to hide from the debtors, only to fall to my death in the end. When I wake up again, I've returned to the day I can hear Cathy's inner voice.

After our last mock exam, the whole class went to a karaoke lounge to celebrate. A video suddenly appeared on my phone, supposedly sent by Mason Blackwell ten years in the future. Mason and I had grown up together for over a decade, and I'd secretly loved him for five. In the video, he wore a suit, his familiar face softened by a tenderness I'd never seen before. "Hannah, I'm getting married. "To Paige Monroe." The next second, class beauty Paige linked her arm through his, their fingers intertwined. "Hope you find your true love soon." The video ended. The black screen reflected my reddened eyes. I splashed water on my face and went back into the private room. The moment I walked in, everyone turned to stare. Paige stood up with a bright smile and announced into the microphone, "See? I told you she'd cry!" The room erupted in laughter. Mason rose with a frown, swept a cold look across the room, and said, "Knock it off." He walked over and looked down at me, a trace of nervousness in his voice. "Paige asked me to make that video. Her grades improved this time, so it was her reward. Don't read into it." Behind him, Paige added with a laugh, "It was just a joke. Don't tell me you can't take one?" I stood there, staring at the face I'd secretly loved for five years, and said nothing. The video really was a joke. But ten years later, they truly did get married. Because I'd come back from ten years in the future.