Cerita Pendek & Novel Best Friend

Lewd videos of my best friend, Katie Anderson, are suddenly leaked online, and I defend her in public. However, Katie ends up accusing me of leaking the videos in the first place. All of a sudden, the entire Internet turns against me. I get blacklisted by the whole entertainment industry and get cyberbullied online as well. Katie's die-hard fans abduct Mom by throwing a sack over her head and record lewd videos of her, driving her to so much shame she jumps off a building and dies. Meanwhile, Dad drinks rat poison and dies next to Mom's grave. After my family is torn apart, I ask Katie why she wants to frame me for everything. She replies, "Samael is the richest heir in the city. This is his fetish. You were the one who made everything into a big fuss. Of course, it's you who'll have to bear the responsibility for everything!" Samael Crews slinks his arm around Katie's waist and looks at me with a mocking smile on his face. "Did you think you were just trying to help out a fellow woman? Sorry, ex-girlfriend, but your precious bestie here is nothing more than an obedient lapdog of mine!" I end up being sold to Meowmar and eventually die from mistreatment. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I am reborn on the day that Katie accuses me of leaking her lewd videos online. This time, I choose to ignore her completely.

After I get pregnant, my husband, Edmund Zeller, has been sending me less and less money for living expenses. Eventually, I'm left with only 800 dollars a month. Taylor Zeller, Edmund's sister and my best friend, is outraged. "My brother's a bastard. I'd rather work three jobs than let you and the baby starve." I don't want to be a burden to Taylor, so I set up a stall at a market at night when I'm seven months pregnant. After my daughter, Kayla Zeller, is born, I can only afford the cheapest formula. She's not even two months old, yet she already looks so thin. On the day Edmund comes home, I've completely lost hope, so I ask him for a divorce. He just lets out an exasperated laugh. "I give you two million dollars a year for your living expenses, and you can't even say something nice about that? My sister was right. You're such a gold digger." I freeze on the spot. "Two million dollars? But I only get 800 dollars a month."

My best friend passed away from postpartum hemorrhage. Ethan said he didn't want his child to grow up without a mother. To repay my best friend for saving my life years ago, I became the child's mother. I gave up my career and ambitions, willingly becoming a full-time housewife. For seven years, I cared for both father and son as if it were my life's mission. Yet, he always remained distant, his tenderness surfacing only in the quiet intensity of late nights. Afterward, he would hand me a few birth control pills. On New Year's Eve, my throat felt strange. I swallowed the pills, only to immediately vomit them all out. Ethan was furious and accused me of harboring ulterior motives. As punishment, he locked me outside on the open balcony in the rain. Our son came running with an umbrella in hand. But he walked past me without a glance and handed it to the housekeeper who was heading out. In that moment, I made up my mind—I would leave.

My best friend and her boyfriend started a couples' vlog channel together, and it recently went viral online. I immediately followed it, watching every single upload. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that her blurred-out boyfriend acted suspiciously like my husband. When I mentioned it to her, she just flicked my forehead. "Girl, you're so crazy in love that you see your husband everywhere! Keep this up, and I'm gonna start getting jealous!" Blushing, I rubbed my head and quickly changed the subject. That was until my husband's company retreat, where I dragged Barbara Moore along to keep me company. Out of nowhere, our flight back suffered a severe emergency. Flight attendants handed out paper for everyone to write down their final words. With trembling hands, I finished writing mine, only to catch a glance at theirs. They had written down each other's names! My husband turned on his camera, framing both of them in the shot. "Barbara, I'm content to spend my final moments with you. Everyone, this channel won't be updating anymore. Goodbye." Neither of them noticed that off-camera, my face had gone deathly pale. Yet in the end, the plane managed to land safely. None of us died. I didn't cry or throw a scene. Instead, I simply tore up my final note, opened the car door, and got in. "What are you guys standing there for? Get in."

My best friend, Mia Sullivan, had gone abroad for three years. When she finally came back, she was in tears. She said she had been dumped by a scumbag, was pregnant, and had nowhere to go. I felt terrible for her, so I not only let her move into my house but also asked my husband, Hudson Darby, to take extra care of her. That was until I found a prenatal checkup receipt in the study. The patient was Mia, and the family member who had signed was Hudson. I worried I was jumping to conclusions, so I shoved it back and rushed out the door. After I got downstairs, I realized I had forgotten the files I needed for my meeting, so I headed back up. That was when I saw Hudson and Mia in each other's arms. "What if Charlotte finds out the baby I'm carrying is actually yours?" Mia asked. "Don't worry. Charlotte trusts us so much, there's no way she'll figure it out," Hudson replied. In that moment, the seven years of love I had given him instantly turned into a cruel joke.

On the day I finally paid off the mortgage on our marital home, my boyfriend, Jesse Culver, keeps ignored my calls even though we were supposed to go register our marriage today. Instead, I received a message from my ex-husband, Dave Grossman. "What does it feel like to be betrayed for the second time?" I was stunned when a video pops up. Inside a private room, Jesse was taking wedding photos with another woman, happily leaning against her. My dad, Chris Lillard, who had wished me a smooth marriage registration that very morning, was smiling adoringly at them. My friends and classmates were cheering them on, too. "Kiss! Kiss!" The bride-to-be in the video was my former best friend, Nicki Jones. When I was eight months pregnant, she slept with Dave. After I miscarried, I divorced him immediately and cut all contact with her. Dave kept messaging me. "Looks like your best friend really is irresistible." "Jesse called me a bastard back then and wanted to beat me to death. But now, he's deceived you for her too." Being betrayed for the second time hurts so badly that I can barely breathe. Five years ago, it pushed me into depression. Jesse was the one who pulled me out of it. However, five years later, he joined forces with my family and friends to betrayed me for the same woman. The next second, Dave sent me an address. He texts, "Want to go take a look? It's up to you."

Carina Lewis, the head of the department, has been a friend of mine since college. While she successfully climbs up the corporate ladder, I'm stuck being the workhorse at the bottom of the totem pole. When she's late for work, I sign in for her. When she messes up, I clean up for her. I'm happy to play along with her, of course. It's not easy to find someone dumb enough to be the scapegoat. One day, a billionaire investor shows up at the company's doorstep, and the senior executives instruct me to take care of him during his visit. This evening, when the rest of the office is empty, Carina takes my hand and tells me earnestly, "Bailey, investors like him are ruthless. You won't even know what's coming for you. An innocent woman like you won't be able to handle him. Let me, your best friend, test the waters with him first. Once everything is settled, I'll make you a manager." I nod sweetly in response. Hours later, I scurry over to the presidential suite at the hotel, where the billionaire investor is staying, and kick down the door. "Open up, Dal!" It's one thing for Carina to constantly take advantage of me, but how dare she dream of becoming my sister-in-law to steal half of my family's assets? That deluded pipe dream of hers will even make the marble statues in my family's garden roll their eyes.

Three years into her marriage, Chloe James knew something was wrong. She had pain, itching, and occasional bleeding, symptoms she was too embarrassed to discuss. She finally made a secret appointment. Lying cold on the examination table, she flinched as the doctor looked inside. "You're so young to have an IUD," the doctor remarked casually. "Why did you decide not to have kids?" Chloe's mind went blank. Her nails bit into her palm. "IUD? Doctor, that's impossible. I had a miscarriage two years ago. I've been trying ever since. I've done six rounds of IVF. Why would I have an IUD?" The metal instrument pressed in. Chloe gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "It's no mistake," the doctor sighed. "The coil has grown into your uterine tissue. "If you'd waited much longer to come in, the damage could've been much worse." Chloe's heart plummeted. Two years ago, she ate a slice of almond cake handed to her by her husband, Michael James. Then, her severe allergic reaction triggered a miscarriage. Her best friend, Sarah Daniels, a top OB-GYN, slapped her husband, Michael, right in front of her. "How could you be so careless?" Sarah sobbed, clutching Chloe's hand. "Hang in there, Chloe! I'll do everything to save your baby!" Sarah even knelt by the bed afterward, weeping. "I couldn't save the baby... I'm so sorry, Chloe." Ever since that tragic night, Chloe had never been able to conceive again.

My best friend, Clara Wilder, has baked an apple pie for me. But I don't hesitate to give it to my pregnant dog. That's because I've gotten reborn. In my previous lifetime, Clara had bound the Fertility Transfer System to me. If I were to eat the food she made, the baby I was pregnant with would be transferred into her womb, and she would be the one giving birth to them. Clara had married into the wealthy Gray family. For three generations, the Grays were only able to produce one heir each. That was why her in-laws desperately needed her to bear them grandchildren. Since Clara couldn't get pregnant at all, she decided to target me, her newly-wedded best friend. I went to great lengths just to get pregnant every time, but right after I ate the food Clara made, I'd go through a miscarriage by accident. Just like that, Clara was able to give birth to four sons in a row. She became the apple of her in-laws and her husband, Colton Gray's eye, which made her ego swell like mad. In the end, Clara and Colton hatched a plot where they accused me of cheating on my own husband. With my reputation flushed down the drain, I got kicked out by my in-laws. In the end, I starved to death on the streets without a penny under my name. At the end of the day, Clara wants children very badly, doesn't she? After I get reborn, I decide to give her some special "babies".

I was diagnosed with cancer. After much deliberation, I called my husband. He fell silent for a long while. “Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.” I called my mother while weeping. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!” I stopped crying and started living for myself. God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.

For the ninth time, my best friend was left at the altar. And for the ninth time, my fiance was dragged in to play the part of her pretend groom. I was holding two cups of coffee. Before I could knock on the dressing room's door, I heard my best friend purring at someone. "You're the best, Anton. You knew this was an act, but you played along anyway." My breath caught. Through the half-open door, I stole a glance inside. My fiance, who had always been cold and unreadable, was looking at my best friend as if she were the most precious thing in his world. "Getting left at the altar must've traumatized you. If I don't help you get over it, Emilia's going to be worried even if she marries me." My best friend tugged lightly at the hem of his shirt. "But this is going to affect your relationship with her." "Not like it's the first time. She's still with me. We're still a couple." My fiance took out a diamond ring and held it against my best friend's finger. "We've been together for ten years. She has no other choice, anyway." The summer heat was scorching, yet part of me felt frozen solid. Slowly, I took my phone out and dialed a certain number. "Hey, I'd like to show you what I look like in that wedding gown."

I had just won the Hawthorne Scientific Laureate on the international stage when my father called me back home. "Bring the betrothal gifts to the Hayes family. That childhood engagement should finally be fulfilled." Afraid of getting stuck in traffic, I took my modified motorcycle, carried the national heritage porcelain obtained through generations of the Keane family's military merits, and headed toward their house. Just as I arrived at the community gate, a Porsche suddenly cut across the lane, nearly knocking me over. A heavily made-up woman, Zoey Mercer, stepped out of the car, raised one sharp high heel, and kicked the top box off my motorcycle. "You rode this junk motorcycle yet dared block my way? If you dent my car, your whole family won't be able to afford the compensation!" My heart sank. I quickly opened the case, only to see the entire box of celadon porcelain shattered. "So you’re just some delivery guy. Think this pile of trash is worth even one of my shoes? "You even know whose neighborhood this is? It belongs to Kingshore's Hayes family! My best friend’s family developed this place! Believe it or not, I can have you thrown out right now!" Right then, my fiancee, Lauren Hayes, called me. "Where are you? My friend just messaged me saying there’s a delivery guy causing trouble at the entrance."

In a world ravaged by global nuclear fallout, I struggled to survive alongside my fragile, sweet-faced best friend, dodging one radiation storm after another. The route to the Central Safety Zone was blocked—we had no choice but to use two detonators to blast open the tunnel. Otherwise, we would be caught in the storm, our bodies rotting away until we either dissolved into blood sludge or turned into zombies. … In my previous life, I had risked everything to secure those detonators, only for my best friend to hand them over to a complete stranger without hesitation. "They have elderly people and children on their side too," she said earnestly. "One detonator can save many lives. Iris, you can't be selfish." I was so furious my blood pressure nearly exploded, but with no other option, I went straight into a horde of zombies to steal backup detonators. I lost an arm in the process, drenched in blood and barely standing. Yet, she complained that I was covered in gore and had frightened the children. After finally regrouping with the main convoy, I rushed to deliver the formula for anti-radiation medicine to the research institute so that more people could be saved. But she accused me of stealing supplies and trying to flee, which led to my expulsion from the base, and death, my body rotting away under the radiation. When I opened my eyes again, there was still one hour left before the radiation storm hit. I looked down at the two detonators in my hand, then at my pitiful, tear-brimmed best friend—and I smiled. Since she loved being a good person so much, this time, I would let her be one to her heart's content.

Dominic Fletcher and Sabine Mercer were high-society rivals known throughout the entire city for their bitter feuds. Yet by a twist of fate, the former was my childhood sweetheart and fiancé, while the latter was my best friend. Every time they crossed paths, teeth flared and claws came out. Now that I was pregnant, the two were locked in a relentless shouting match over who the baby would later address first. Hoping to ease the tension, I organized a road trip for the holiday weekend. Never did I imagine we would run into a violent landslide along the way. At the threshold of life and death, staring down at me as I lay pooled in my own blood, Dominic turned to scoop Sabine, who was suffering nothing more than a scraped elbow, into his arms. Just then, a massive boulder was about to crush down on me. He suddenly bolted back, wrapping his arms around me in a desperate, suffocating embrace. “The wedding we miss... I'll make it up to you in the next life.” I opened my eyes again to find myself alive again. I could hear the frantic bickering echoing clearly from outside the door. “You were willing to die alongside Elaine. Why didn’t you save her first? “Her baby’s gone! How on earth am I supposed to explain…” Dominic’s voice cut through, a restrained, low growl. “I couldn’t just stand there and watch the woman I love die, could I? “You know full well how indebted I feel...” I froze on the bed, half my body turning numb. Years ago, my father was hit by a truck and knocked off a cliff in an attempt to save Dominic’s life. I had always interpreted the look in Dominic’s eyes as affection, never realizing it was nothing more than guilt. Turned out I had been the villain breaking up the tragic lovers all along. It was time to step aside.

My husband, Mitch Cooley, has been with me through my fifth year of battling depression. While searching for recipes online, a notification for a late-night livestream for anonymous confessions pops up on my phone screen. "What's the biggest lie your husband has ever told you?" I tap on the notification out of curiosity as my eyes are drawn to the profile picture showing two hands tightly clasped together. The interviewee replies, "I'm still single, but if it's about my stupid best friend, then she'd been lied to by her husband three times. "The first time, her ex-boyfriend died in a car crash while cheating on her, and her now-husband hid the truth on purpose so that she thought the main reason her ex died was that she wanted to break up with him. "Her husband knew all along that her ex-boyfriend had been cheating on her with me, but he watched her try to slit her wrists in remorse multiple times without telling her the truth. "As for the third time, I just mentioned to her husband that he could only ever have a baby with me, and he immediately got himself a certificate proving that he was sexually frigid and refused to sleep with her. "But the most ridiculous thing is that my best friend still stupidly went to get an IVF done while I was rolling in the sheets with her husband every night." I feel alarm bells go off in my head. Mitch had also suddenly experienced sexual frigidity recently. The hospital he went to for treatment was one recommended by my best friend, Lexie Moyer. My hands tremble as I click on the interviewee's profile picture. I then realize that the red mole on the ring finger is the exact same one on Mitch's finger. The interviewee's tone suddenly turns low and restrained. "Even when her husband told her today that he would be working overtime at the company, when he was actually keeping me and our son company, she still made a whole table of dishes waiting for him to come home." I freeze on the spot the moment the interviewee's voice changer malfunctions for a bit. I know that voice too well. It is Lexie's.

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

My name is Kayla Robinson, and I'm an OB-GYN. I have just finished three emergency surgeries. Not long after I step out of the hospital, my phone rings. My best friend Isabella White's name pops up on the screen. When I answer, her shrill voice comes through the phone. "Kayla, my water just broke, and my stomach hurts like hell! Come to the hospital right now! I want you to deliver my baby yourself!" I instinctively turn around to head back inside when lines of text suddenly flash before my eyes. [Don't go into the operating room.] [Isabella already lost the baby. She doesn't want you to deliver the baby. She just wants a scapegoat.] [Her mafia husband will fly into a rage and snap your neck with his bare hands.] [You won't be the only one to die. Your entire family will suffer his wrath!] I freeze in my tracks. A few moments later, I decide to trust those warnings. After all, my parents' lives are on the line. I can't afford to take the chance.

Before I turned fifteen, I lived like a weed. Cold, damp, barely surviving. Then I met Ethan Hayes and Summer Reed. The first home-cooked meal anyone ever made for me was made by Summer. The first dress I ever owned was bought by Summer. The first birthday anyone ever celebrated for me was something Summer planned down to the smallest detail. She would carefully put ointment on the chilblains covering my hands. And she would tell everyone, over and over, that I was her best friend. As for Ethan... He was the one who pulled me away from a group of laughing street punks. He was the one who kicked open a door and rushed me to the hospital when my fever reached 104 degrees. He was the one who broke my drunken stepfather's head open with a single punch, the night the man came at me again. The day he confessed his feelings, his hands were trembling and my heart was pounding so hard that tears filled my eyes. "I swear I'll protect you for the rest of my life." I often thought that in the bleak, gray life I had been given, meeting the two of them was the greatest luck I could ever have asked for. Until my twenty-third birthday. I heard Ethan shouting at Summer. "I can't control what I feel! I fell in love with you. So what? You feel the same way, don't you?" Summer looked into his red, tormented eyes. At last, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms. "But... what about Mia?" Hidden around the corner, I smiled bitterly. What else was there to do? They were the two people I loved most in the world. I couldn't bear to make things harder for them. So I called my advisor and said calmly, "Can I apply for that twenty-year Antarctic research program?"

I was born a dense people-pleaser, completely missing sarcasm and mistaking backhanded insults for compliments. Because of this, I died six times under bizarre circumstances, though I always assumed I just had terrible luck. This was my seventh rebirth, and fate gave me a head start. The moment I opened my eyes, a new text appeared in my phone's memo app. [Your best friend, Nancy Morgan, will arrive tonight at eight, claiming she wants to stay over. Once you fall asleep, she will turn on the gas valve and leave.] [Your childhood sweetheart, Lorenzo Myers, will visit you in the hospital while you're delirious and force you to sign over your apartment.] [They will marry, move into your home, and drain your assets. You will die of organ failure after they stop paying your medical bills.] I frowned, dismissing it as a sick joke. Nancy and Lorenzo had always been good to me. Why would they want me dead? I figured this time I could finally relax and live a normal life. Then, at eight o'clock sharp, the doorbell rang, and Nancy's cheerful voice floated through the door. "Gloria, I came to see you! Miss me? Open up!" I started toward the door with a habitual smile on my face. But the final line of the prophecy flashed in my mind: "They'll team up to put you in the hospital. You'll lose everything and die." I froze in place.

I consistently score above 1,550 on mock tests, yet I only score 467 on the actual college entrance exam. Mom gets so worked up over the abysmal results that she suffers a fatal heart attack. Winnie Cooper, my best friend, goes from around 640 to 1,560, earning herself the title of a gifted student in the media. I find out the truth ten years later. Winnie suddenly gets drunk and leans close to me. She then whispers with a chuckle, "Your college entrance exam score became mine because you kissed my rosary, Hazel." I open my eyes again, only to realize that I have returned to a day before the exam. Winnie brings the rosary to my lips again. "You should give it a kiss for some good luck, Hazel." I nod with a smile, then turn around and pass the rosary to the top 20 students in the class. "If it's really effective, then everyone should kiss it!"