Where Was John Hughes Born?

“I know four men who will be the perfect men to help you complete the tasks on your list.” It was that sentence that started everything. Or maybe it was my sudden need for adventure or the fact that my life was falling apart. I’m a baker. I love my bakery, but my feelings got all mixed up when my best friend died in a freak accident. In order to honour my best friend, I decided to complete her bucket list. I never expected to fall in love with four strangers. A relationship with different men will never work, right? Trigger Warning: Contains MM & The Mention of SA and Suicide (not detailed, just mentioned briefly)

Dalia is in a dire need of money. To prevent being kicked out and living on the streets, she responds to an ad promising one million dollars. The only requirement? The applicant must be a fertile woman. Though Dalia is cunning and intelligent, she never thought she would fall for the man behind the ad. But is he even capable of loving her back?

‘State you name.’ Luke said. His voice of authority. ‘Vera Rayne.’ He seemed to look like he was in thought. The interview went on. Vera feeling on edge and uncomfortable. Luke, he was just sexually frustrated. ‘Are you married.’ He suddenly demanded. Luke couldn’t help it. Vera was confused as to why he would ask. ‘No,’ she answered, frowning. ‘Boyfriend then.’ Vera frowned deeper. Luke thought it made her look just as beautiful. Vera didn’t know why he would want to know. What it had to do with him. Luke grew irritated by Vera’s silence. His mind going insane thinking that silence meant that she did indeed have a boyfriend. Then he began to imagine, if she did have a boyfriend, what would he look like. What was her type. And so on. ‘No.’ She had finally answered. Luke thought she wasn’t going to. ‘OK,’ he said feeling relieved. Though he would never show it.

White Lake High School, a supernatural institution with supposedly mundane students yet to manifest their supernatural potential. One of them being me, Kelly Isabella McHale, hated by all but only hate one. The infamous, Instagram sensation 'Dimples'. Why do I hate him, you ask? Well, my first response will be the fact that ever since he came into existence, bad things have been happening to me, like barred from a good college bad. But the real reason begins with my initiation into the supernatural world through the death of Henry. 'Looks at the sky' The full moon draws near...or should I saw the blue moon. 'Eyes glow....'

In the seventh year of our secret relationship, Alex Timbers became the hero pilot the whole country was talking about. His flight had run into extreme weather. Somehow, on nerve and skill alone, he'd brought the plane down safely. I watched the livestream the whole time, crying so hard I could barely stand. Then, ten minutes later, during an on-site interview at the airport, a three-year-old boy ducked under the barricade and threw himself into Alex's arms, sobbing and calling him Dad. Right behind him came my best friend, Natalie Wilde, her eyes red. In front of the entire country, Alex pulled them both into his arms. Before I could even process it, two more familiar faces appeared on screen. My mother, Susan Healey, hugged Natalie, her voice breaking. "It's over now, Natalie. Alex made it back alive. You and the boy finally have someone to lean on." My father, Dale Healey, clapped Alex on the shoulder, beaming. "Your family of three is whole again. Nothing beats that." In that instant, every drop of blood in my body ran cold. Over the past seven years, I'd had three miscarriages because of Alex. Each time, he'd held me and sworn, eyes red, "Mary, for your reputation, I can't let you have a child out of wedlock. Once I make captain, we'll get married." I laughed until the laughter turned into tears, blurring my vision. It wasn't just Alex. My parents had been standing with them the whole time. I'd been the only one left waiting, seven years, in a place no one could see. I typed out in the livestream's comment section: [Congratulations.]

The year my parents "divorced," I was twelve. My twin sister, Lily Reed, and I were split up between them. Lily left for California with our mother, Rachel Reed. I moved with our father, Grant Reed, into a moldy basement in Newark. Dad got hooked on gambling and buried himself in debt. Every day after school I washed dishes at a restaurant, and even my free school lunch had to be split into two meals. Six years later, Lily sent me a link out of nowhere. "Here's an eighteenth birthday present for you, sis." It was a paid livestreaming platform for the rich. The hottest stream on the homepage was called "Raised Poor vs. Raised Rich: Which Child Turns Out Better?" The screen was split in two. On the left, I sat in the leaky basement, doing homework by a broken desk lamp. On the right, my parents sat with their arms around Lily on the couch of a mansion in Alpine, cutting into a birthday cake. [The sister still has no idea, right? Her parents never divorced.] [The gambling debts and debt collectors are fake too. It's all for the show.] Lily looked into the camera and smiled sweetly. "See, sis?" "This is our real home."