Feel-Good Story Countdown の短編小説 & 小説

On the third day of trying to win over Heidi Shilton, she confessed to me. But the affection score floating above her head was still zero. After we got together, she spoiled me nonstop. On our sixth anniversary, she pulled off this huge proposal. Tears burned my eyes. I was just about to say yes when comments suddenly flashed across my vision— [Heidi must be exhausted. Six years pretending to love Rowan just to protect the male lead.] [The stand-in for Andy seriously got too into the role. This is hilarious.] The blood in my veins turned ice-cold. No wonder that score hadn't changed in six years. Then a system alert slammed into my head— [Final stage activated. Mission countdown: 10 days. Failure will result in complete erasure.] Smiling, I pushed away Heidi's engagement ring and wiped my tears. "Sorry. I'm done playing this game."

After the ball is over, Prince Adrian Valmont delivers a glass slipper to my family. Whoever fits into the slipper will become the future princess. In the first life, my oldest sister, Mira Carrington, steels her heart and chops off her toes so that she can wear the slipper. She successfully becomes the princess afterward. On their wedding night, Adrian spots Mira's bleeding foot. He's quick to unsheathe his sword and cut her into pieces. "This is what you get for impersonating the princess!" In the second life, my second sister, Bianca Carrington, dices off her sole in order to fit her foot into the slipper. But Adrian still discovers her injury on the day after their wedding, resulting in him hanging her from the castle wall. "How dare you impersonate her? You definitely have a death wish!" In the third life, my foot slips into the glass slipper very easily. But Adrian still gouges out my heart on our wedding night. His features are contorted heavily. "You don't love me at all, so why are you impersonating my princess?" In the fourth time loop, Adrian comes knocking on our door with the glass slipper once again. This time, neither of us has the guts to approach him. This leaves Adrian enraged. "The owner of the glass slipper is in your house! If I don't see her in three days, all of you shall die!"

I was the most troublesome six-year-old little tyrant in Aviator Gardens, Silverpine, Franklin. My dad was an airline captain, and my mom was the principal dancer of the Silverpine Ballet Company. I was the proof of their love. Whenever Dad returned from a flight, the first thing he did was rub his stubbled cheek against mine; Mom even insured her hands for a fortune because she used them to braid my hair. I could cover the walls with paint and refuse every part of a pork rib except the crunchy cartilage. Then last night, while hiding in the closet during hide-and-seek, I suddenly heard a strange countdown announcement. [Only a few days remain before the host's parents confess their divorce.] [Prepare yourself. Because the host is excessively unruly, male lead Adrian Johnston has decided to leave the marriage with nothing, while female lead Elena Johnston has already contacted a boarding school.] [They will soon build separate families and welcome obedient new babies.] In the dark closet, I covered my mouth with both hands while tears soaked my face. The next morning, Mom brought me warm milk, and Dad waited with a hairbrush. I did not roll across the bed shouting that I refused to go to preschool. I pulled on the hardest pair of uniform overalls by myself and silently drank every drop of milk without leaving a stain. Then I walked to Dad, looked up, twisted the edge of my shirt in both hands, and spoke through a trembling voice. "Mommy, Daddy, I won't draw on the walls anymore. I won't ask for rib cartilage. I'll wash my own socks... When you go to your new homes, can you...can you take me with you?"

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

After getting married, I followed my wife to the desert to help build up a remote research base. After months of severe drought, I applied for 17 ounces of water just to wash my hair. But as station chief, June Sheffield rejected me without hesitation. "The water supply has to go toward cultivating the samples first. You need to learn how to tough it out." Then the next moment, I came across a new post the intern had uploaded on social media. 'Wanted to try an outdoor bath, and Ms. Sheffield approved a whole ton of water without even blinking! She even set up the bath tent herself. I'm so happy.' Furious, I went straight to confront June Sheffield. Usually cold and distant, she softened her tone for once. "Conditions here are harsh. If Morgan can't handle it and decides to leave, the base will end up even more short-staffed. You're one of the core staff members. Once the project pays out, your share alone will be at least four million. An intern like him doesn't get that kind of treatment." In the end, I swallowed my anger. That was, until the first-quarter project wrapped up. When there was still no movement in my account, I nervously contacted headquarters. The moment I gave my identity, the person on the other end sounded stunned. "You're just an intern. What project bonus are you talking about? And the head of the research department has always been Morgan Wilder." I stared at June's signature on the personnel registration list and suddenly understood everything. Without another word, I packed my bags and booked a flight home. Life in the desert was bitterly cold and unforgiving. This time, I was not staying.

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

Zach Lawson was one of the novel's male leads. He was supposed to be deeply loyal and devoted to the female protagonist. But somehow, he fell in love with me—an insignificant supporting character. The system decided that he had swerved too far away from the plot and killed him off with a car crash. I made a deal with the system and revived him in exchange for my chance to return to the real world. His legs were useless after the revival, so I took him everywhere just to find a cure. I stayed with him during his recovery, and I did not leave while he worked his way back up. During the company's celebratory event, a reporter asked him what his drive for success was. He smiled gently. "Someone I owe my life to." The edges of my eyes went red, but then I realized he was not looking at me. It was on a woman in the first row, who was wiping her tears away. This novel's female protagonist. The crowd applauded. A system notification popped up. "Five years have passed. The promise is fulfilled. Will you return to the real world?" I looked at him. He was walking toward Rainie Quinton. "What happens after I leave?" "He'll be killed off, like he was supposed to be." "I see," I said. Then I thought, 'I'm leaving, Zach. And this time, it's for real.'

“Miss Bray, are you sure you want to release these photos and videos of Mr. Loader and Miss Nash on the day of the wedding?” Tabitha paused before replying firmly, “I’m certain. I also need you to take care of a visa for me. I’m flying out on my wedding day. I expect you to keep this between us.” After the call, Tabitha stood in the silence of the room. Just this morning, Tabitha stumbled upon a secret love nest Christian had set up with his old flame. “Kelsey, since you’re so against the wedding, you should come and steal me away at the wedding next month.” Tabitha reached the door of Christian’s other residence, only to overhear Christian telling Kelsey to crash the wedding. Soon enough, Christian and Kelsey locked arms and shared a hot kiss. Tabitha watched on, her heart breaking into pieces. Fighting back the urge to barge in on them, she turned on her heel. Right there and then, she made a choice that would leave everyone reeling. She planned to leave Christian at the altar before Kelsey would come and whisk him away!

My parents, Dennis and Sandra Ford, always said the wiring in our old house was too outdated to power more than three air conditioners. My sister, Beth Ford, practiced her violin in her room all day, so she needed one. My brother, Monty Ford, had been sickly since he was little and couldn't stand even a little heat, so he needed one too. The last unit went to the master bedroom. I didn't say anything. I stuck to my old, creaking fan and got through twenty-two stifling summers in Battisata City. I thought that if I stayed quiet enough, obedient enough, my family would eventually notice me. Then came the day I borrowed Monty's air-conditioned room for the final online interview at a major company. Right in the middle of it, the door kept swinging open. Beth's singing drifted in from the living room, and my dad poked his head in for the fourth time. "Still not done? Don't forget to make your brother his honey-glazed fish tonight." The interviewer on the screen frowned. "Sorry, we don't need employees with an attitude problem." The second the screen went dark, I sat frozen in my chair, cold sweat soaking the hair at my forehead. "Hurry to the market once you're finished. The fish won't be fresh if you wait too long." Their nagging kept going, and that was the moment it hit me. What I'd lost over the years wasn't just a working air conditioner or a hard-won job. It was my entire family.

Ten years into our secret relationship, Alex pulled out a ring at a yacht party. He leaned against the deck railing, his tone lazy. "Actually, I'm planning to propose tonight. " The crowd erupted instantly. Someone whistled, someone pounded on a table telling him to get down on one knee, and guessed who the mystery woman he'd kept hidden for ten years might be. I stood at the back of the crowd, so nervous my breathing came in ragged bursts. For ten years, Alex had never publicly acknowledged our relationship. During the hardest days of his startup, he said investors didn't like founders weighed down by romantic attachments. Then, once he became New York's most sought-after biotech rising star, the excuse became that the board and the media loved scrutinizing his personal life. Time after time, I believed he just wasn't ready yet. For him, I gave up a research position at Harvard, lost our child, and didn't even make it to my mother's bedside before she died. And now, he had finally pulled out a ring. Without even thinking, I reached for the pair of dark blue cufflinks in my pocket. I had spent three months of my savings to craft them as a tenth-anniversary gift. But he didn't stop in front of me. He brushed past me, walked up to Lillian, who had just returned to New York after ending her second marriage in Europe, and dropped to one knee. The deck fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted into even louder cheers. Alex slid the ring onto Lillian's finger, and smiled carelessly. "See? Told you she wouldn't dare make a scene even after seeing the ring. Ten years, and when has she ever really stood up to me?" Lillian looked past his shoulder at me, undisguised triumph gleaming in her eyes. So the proposal hadn't been spontaneous. They had bet on whether I would make a scene. I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and turned to leave. So ten years really could be worth this little.

I was the Whitmore family's dirty secret, an illegitimate daughter. Growing up without anyone to rely on, despised by everyone around me. The only lucky thing that ever happened to me was meeting Damian. When people talked about my birth, he stood up for me every single time. For years, he treated me with nothing but tenderness. He was the only light in my otherwise dark and hopeless life. Until someone accidentally pulled me into a voice chat room. Our mutual friends were excitedly discussing wedding arrangements. I was about to speak up, flushed with shyness. When Damian's best friend suddenly teased, "Aren't you worried Amelia will find out you're marrying Serena and crash the wedding? But don't worry, if she actually shows up, we'll lay down our lives to protect our boy's happiness." Then came Damian's voice, still gentle and smooth as ever. "She's not the kind you bring out in public. Fine to play around with on the side, but that's all she is." "At the end of the day, only someone with Serena's status as the legitimate Whitmore heiress deserves to stand by my side."

My ex, Luca Romano, had a rival family on his tail, so he begged me to hide him at my family's private estate for five days. For old times' sake, I agreed and gave him a temporary passcode that would work for five days. Five days later, I finished my work out of town and returned to the estate. When I entered the passcode, the door wouldn't open. Someone had changed it. I rang the doorbell. A woman I had never seen before came out wearing my nightgown. She yawned as if she owned the place. The moment she saw me, she looked at me with disgust. "So you're the ex-girlfriend who won't leave Luca alone? "You two already broke up, and now you're showing up at his place in the middle of the night? Don't you have any shame?"

When I became pregnant, my gravely ill mother mentioned that her final wish was to witness my wedding. My boyfriend, William Jones, finally agrees to marry me after I have been asking for 99 days. Yet, on the wedding day, he never shows up, even though I was waiting in my gown at the hotel the whole day. The truth only emerges when someone found his marriage certificate that he had posted a month earlier on social media. He married his childhood sweetheart, Caroline Ashton, during that time. When my mother learns this, the shock triggers a fatal attack. She passes away despite the doctors' efforts. William sends me a message. "I'm sorry, honey. Caroline twisted her ankle, so I had to take care of her. We'll have our wedding next month, okay? I promise I'll make it up to you this time." … A month later, William prepares a lavish, grand wedding just for me. Dressed in a custom-tailored suit, he waits at the hotel. Yet, all he receives is the report from my abortion procedure. There is only one sentence on the back—"William, this is goodbye forever."

I woke up, and I was 28 again. I had twin heirs, and my husband was Santino, Veridia's most feared Mafia Don. He sat at the head of the Commission of the Five Families. His sharp profile was a fixture on the cover of the underworld's most exclusive magazine for several consecutive issues. Even the oldest Valerian families were lining up to offer him their daughters. All the women in Altoria envied my good fortune. But the first thing I did after waking up was pick up the divorce papers, the ink still fresh, and handed them to his childhood sweetheart, Jessy. "My lawyer will handle the divorce. The properties and assets are yours. Santino is yours. The children are yours, too." Sitting across from me, Jessy couldn't believe it, her eyes wide with shock. "Are you crazy, Alessia? Is this some kind of trick?" "How could the woman who has been Donna for six years give it all up so easily?" I lowered my gaze, my tone calm. "Since they all prefer you, I figured it was time to step aside." "Just have Santino sign it and press his signet ring into the wax seal." "Once the divorce is final, I'll leave Veridia for good." This time, I would not make the same mistake. I would never again be a Donna in name only.

I am the envy of every girl at Belmont Academy. The boys I grew up with—Brooks, Carter, and Harrison—have treated me like royalty since we were kids, spoiling me completely. No matter what I wanted, even if it was a lot of trouble, they always handed it to me on a silver platter. When I casually complained that prom was boring, they rented out an entire yacht for me. When my legs were sore after cheer practice and I didn't want to walk, they gave me piggyback rides across the football field. I was their princess. I was the one they pampered and spoiled, the one they adored. Naturally, I loved them just as much. I naively thought my senior prom date would simply be one of them. Until a transfer student named Nova arrived. Her beauty was striking and undeniable. During her first week, she boldly announced that she would become the center of attention on campus, stealing the spotlight from all the popular kids—especially me. Gradually, Brooks started to find me too whiny. One day during a heavy downpour, he left me alone by the field to hold an umbrella for Nova. The other two stood up for me. "Brooks, you chose this! Don't regret it later!" But not long after, Carter gravitated toward Nova as well. When Nova told the other girls to dump trash into my locker and I got angry, Carter just thought I was making a fuss over nothing. At Homecoming, I looked at Harrison, the only one left, and tears pricked my eyes. "Harrison, tell me, am I the one in the wrong?" He ruffled my hair. "Don't overthink it. They're just stupid. They don't know how to appreciate you." But later, I saw him rig the Homecoming Queen vote. He gave Nova the crown that was supposed to be mine. Just to earn a smile from her. With red eyes, I knocked on the door of my brother's downtown office. "Oliver, about that wildlife conservation project in Arca. I want to leave in three days."

3 years ago, the Southern witch sealed the mate bond between Dylan and me with her spell. She said that if we still truly loved each other after 3 years, the bond would remain. Otherwise, it would be broken. During these years, I helped him become the Alpha of our pack as his Luna. But in his heart, there was someone else, his childhood sweetheart, Eleanor. When Eleanor found out that we had started our mate bond, she chose to leave with another werewolf. Dylan was drunk and cried out her name in my arms. His wolf claws scratched me. At that moment, my arm was bleeding, so was my heart. But I believed that he would gradually fall in love with me as time went on. I thought 3 years would be quite enough for that. When the 3 years are almost up, Eleanor returned. Dylan dropped an important meeting to meet with her. We lost $2 billion because of that. Dylan started being by her side every day, just like before. I used to be so afraid that when the time came, we wouldn’t be in love, and that I might lose Dylan. 7 days later, our mate bond would be gone. This time, I didn’t care anymore. It was just a countdown for me to become the Alpha Queen of my own pack.

The night before Christmas, my husband makes it official with his 49th mistress. "Love of my life, @TiffanyVale." "Love of my life, @RomanBlackwell." Then he turns to me and tries to smooth it over. "She lost a dare. Don't take it to heart." Everyone laughs at me, but I don't make a scene. What they don't know is that I have a deal with the System. Every time Roman cheats, a year of his life transfers to me. By now, his 80 years are down to just one. All I have to do is make it past New Year's, and he drops dead of natural causes. Then I can take our three children and inherit the Blackwell family's trillion-dollar fortune.

At the Thanksgiving dinner, Raphael's assistant Daphne was sitting in my seat. I frowned at Raphael. “Why is she in the Donna's seat? Doesn’t she know, and don’t you?” Raphael clicked his tongue, impatient. “You're the one who showed up late. People sit where they want. If it bothers you, leave.” I opened my mouth to argue, and his thoughts reached me before I could. [Scarlett, get angry. Fight back.] [Tell me you're my wife, the Donna of the Sterling family, that no one else has the right to sit at my side.] [Prove you love me. It's the only thing that makes me feel safe.] This time, I didn't give his thoughts what they were begging for. I slid the wedding ring off my finger instead. “That's the Donna's seat. If you've decided she belongs in it, I won't argue.” “Let's get divorced.”

Three years ago, my father sent me to Damian’s side. Every day is a battle of wits with that cold, ruthless Alpha. Every night, I lose myself in his arms. I think… I've finally found the love I am destined for. I was so happy, so sure of our future, that I started planning our bonding ceremony. Until Clara showed up. By then, I realized just how naive I had been. For Clara, Damian locked me away in the isolation cell to teach me a lesson. He spent millions on her without a second thought, but left me alone in a hospital ward unconscious for seven hours. When it came down to life and death, he never hesitated to choose Clara, leaving me bleeding on the ground. The most ironic part? When I finally gave up and walked away, he lost his mind. He started insisting that I am his mate, his one true love. Damian, you're too late.

I had a rule with my three childhood friends since we were pups: when something important came up, we'd write our choices on our palms and reveal them at the same time. They said if we truly had that unspoken connection, our answers would match exactly. But for all these years, I was the only one who kept guessing wrong and getting left behind. Two days before the pack application deadline, I reminded them: "The pack applications close the day after tomorrow. Have you guys decided which pack you want to train with?" They exchanged looks and smiled mysteriously. "Same as always. You guess." Caleb said offhandedly, "I heard the maple leaves at Bloodmoon Ridge have turned red." He was my arranged match, and the one I liked. I immediately submitted my application to Bloodmoon Pack. That afternoon, Derek mentioned to me, "The moonlight at Moonstone Lake is the most enchanting." Afraid of being left out, I changed my application to Moonstone Pack. By evening, Ian was going on and on about the Frostfang Valley venue. In less than a day, I changed my application seven times, so anxious I couldn't sleep. I wanted to be with them, like we'd been for the past years. But on the morning of the deadline, I accidentally overheard the three of them talking with Mira. Mira said, "I can only apply to Blackstone Pack. Are you guys really going to come with me?" All three answered in unison: "Of course." Mira asked, "What about Vera?" Caleb replied carelessly: "Let's see if she can guess right. She'll always find a way to follow us in the end anyway." So every time, they'd made their decision behind my back, then watched me scramble to catch up. And I'd been grateful to tears that they were willing to wait for me. This time, I didn't apply to Blackstone before the deadline. I locked in the Intelligence Bureau's targeted recruitment program instead. I was tired. I could no longer chase after the answers in their palms. But after I left, why did they come chasing after me again?