เรื่องสั้นแนว Feel-Good Story และนิยาย Hypocrisy Face Slapping

I had just finished warming up at my adoptive father's boxing gym when I was brought back to my wealthy biological family. When my tanned, heavily muscled self walked into the living room, my biological parents, who had been ready to humiliate me, fell completely silent. They had brought me back because they wanted me to marry the heir of the Lamberts. He was rumored to have a violent temper and had already scared away ten fiancées. The fake heiress was still pretending to cry at first. But the moment she saw my massive biceps, she stopped crying. She nervously hid behind my older brother. "Jack, are you sure Mr. Andrew is abusing Rachel and not the other way around? What if Rachel is the one beating Mr. Andrew to a pulp?" My brother looked down at his skinny wrists. Then he looked at my palm, which could crush a brick with one hand. He silently took a step backward. I jumped up and threw a couple of punches. "I heard this guy has a terrible temper and is unpredictable?" My biological father awkwardly cleared his throat. "Yes. He's pretty violent." I excitedly slapped my thigh. "Whoa, why didn't you tell me sooner? What a coincidence. I was just looking for a decent sparring partner."

I was in the parking garage of my Beverly Hills high-rise. And I backed my car into my neighbor's Ferrari. On purpose. I got out, a half-empty bottle of tequila in my hand, right in front of her. "Are you blind? Do you know how much this car costs? Can you even afford to fix it?" She was furious, her face turning red as she whipped out her phone to call 911. I just smirked. "You should probably call them. Get the LAPD down here to arrest me. I'll wait." The first time around, I was the fall guy for my fiancé, Grant, and his sister, Blair. They got high at some Hollywood party, went joyriding, and killed an innocent valet. But the car was my Porsche. And they swore I was the one driving. I rotted in a California state prison for ten years. The shock killed my mom. A heart attack. When I got out, they weren't done. They forged offshore debts to drain my trust fund and drove me to suicide. I woke up 24 hours before it all happened again.

Our pack’s pups were born with weakened wolf spirits. I paid for their treatment out of my own pocket, only for their mothers to drag me online.They accused me of using the free wolf treatment I provided for their pups to test serums on children from the contaminated zone, making poor families' pups bear the risk for Alpha pups. What they didn't know was that the pack was badly contaminated. Without treatment, those pups would die. To save their wolves, I brought in the best healers and used the best medication and treatment protocols. Care cost more than eight thousand dollars per pup every month, all of it out of my own pocket. Now the entire internet was accusing me of experimenting on pups and doing the Alpha elite's dirty work. So I made up my mind and sent a pack-wide announcement: "In response to the mothers' request for autonomy over their children's treatment, Moonbridge will suspend the free wolf treatment program, effective immediately." "Starting today, eligible wolf moms will receive a monthly childcare subsidy of two hundred dollars." The moment the announcement went out, every one of them lost it. Now they were all crowded outside my office, begging me not to stop.

My mother makes three million dollars a month overseas, yet my monthly allowance is only ten dollars. When my father confronts her about it, they nearly get a divorce. My brother, Peter Thorne, takes pity on me and secretly gives me some money. However, he is punished for his actions. Hence, every time I get so hungry that my stomach feels like it's digesting itself, sheer resentment wells in me toward my mother. I hate her for being so ruthless and cruel, for giving birth to me yet being unwilling to take care of me. And then, one day, I receive a video call from myself ten years into the future. I eagerly ask, "How is life for me ten years from now? Did I finally cut off all ties with that wicked and terrible woman I call my mother?" However, my future self's eyes immediately redden as she yells at me furiously, "Just so you know, that 'wicked and terrible woman' you speak of donated her kidney to you without any hesitation when your precious father and brother caused you to get kidney failure! "Not just that either! She spent her entire fortune on paying them off so that they would leave you alone and cut off all ties with you! Due to that, she didn't even have enough money to afford anti-inflammatory drugs after the operation and died from the pain on the hospital bed!" As my future self takes in the disbelieving look in my eyes, her lips curl into a smile that is even uglier than a grimace. "Your monthly allowance is actually supposed to be 100,000 dollars, but they skimmed off 99,000 dollars of it and gave it to Dad's illegitimate daughter. If you still don't believe me, just head over to Botanic Villas on the east side of the city."

The year I turned fourteen, Grandma and I were crammed into a beat-up trailer on the edge of a desert town. She couldn't afford paint, so she mixed colors from the cheapest red clay pigment at the general store. When a frame broke, she hammered it back together herself. When canvas tore, she patched the back with old cloth and sealed it with a paste she boiled from leftover church wax and cheap resin. Grandma never went to school. She painted out of pure love, and she kept at it for thirty years. Then one summer, a gallery owner named Evelyn Hart crawled into Grandma's leaky shed and examined every painting, flipping each one over to study both sides. The next day, every last painting was gone. Finished oils, sketches, pigment records, old photographs, frames. Everything cleared out overnight. Three months later, Grandma walked into Evelyn's gallery and saw her own painting, Madonna of the Red Rock, hanging in the brightest spot. But the brass nameplate beside it bore Evelyn's name. She lunged for the painting. The security guards pried her fingers loose and dragged her out the door. That night, a blizzard sealed off the roads. She pounded on the glass, but no one came. The next morning, when I found her outside the gallery, her body was already frozen solid. After the funeral, I went to clean out what was left of the burned shed. Inside the lining of an old brush pouch, I found a small scrap of painted canvas. It was a piece Grandma had trimmed off while repairing Madonna of the Red Rock. The thief had missed it. I tucked it away and kept it. For twenty years. Twenty years later, I was the compliance director at an international art marketplace. A young woman submitted an auction application for a series of paintings. The Desert Madonna Series was about to be sold to collectors and private museums around the world. The collection was valued at more than $150 million. I opened the file. In the artist field, I stared at the name for a long time. "Application denied."

My fiancée canceled the five-million-dollar investment I'd made in my best friend's company and replaced it with a five-hundred-dollar transfer. She told me that real friendship shouldn't be measured in money. Three days later, she invested a hundred million dollars in her childhood sweetheart's company at the most expensive hotel in Manhattan, in front of Wall Street investors and the media. Everyone started cheering, telling her she might as well just marry the guy. She didn't stop them. Why would she? She believed that no matter what she did, I'd never leave. What she didn't know was that I owned the core system that generated most of Nexora's profits. I'd spent eight years building Nexora, the company she was so proud of, from the ground up. She also didn't know my last name was Hale. I was the sole heir to Hale Global Group, a conglomerate powerful enough to bankrupt Nexora with a single word.

I've just recently found out that I was switched at birth. Anthony Jefferson, the person who was raised in my place, and I end up joining an academic game show together—but he encourages everyone to ostracize me. "Sorry, Noah, but everyone on our team has a postgraduate degree. I don't think you'll fit in with us," Anthony says. Immediately, all the other contestants refuse to form a team with me. In fact, scathing remarks about me flood the internet, making me go viral. "Why did a brainless pretty boy like Noah Jefferson join an academic game show? He's obviously going to drag his teammates down!" "I heard he just returned to the family after spending his entire life in the countryside and didn't even graduate from high school." "You've got that right. Even though they're both sons of the Jefferson family, Anthony has already been hired by the National Institute of Physics! Meanwhile, Noah is nothing more than a total slacker." The comments going around online make me pause. Are they referring to me, the guy who was guaranteed a spot in the top universities in the country at just 14 years old? And what's this about Anthony getting hired by the National Institute of Physics? How is it that I, the director of the institute, am only now learning of that?

I have just disembarked from the plane when I receive a call from my sister, Sienna Miller's, manager. "Bad news! Sienna's role was stolen from her." I immediately rush to the set only to see Sienna surrounded by a group of people. Her cheeks are red and swollen from being slapped repeatedly. A mixture of fury and panic rages within me. I'm just about to step forward when a young woman, who looks no older than 16 years old and is wearing a dress that is covered in ruffles and frills, slaps me across my face. I'm stunned by the slap. A murderous glint flickers in my eyes. "Do you have any idea who I am?" I hiss. The young woman scoffs and sneers. "Who do you think you are? How dare you try to intimidate me? You'll be offending the only daughter of Deslano's Miller family, Quinn Miller. You'll also be facing a fate worse than death if you dare to fight me for this role." The director's arrogance from before has disappeared. He rubs his hands together as he tries to smooth the situation over. "She invested a significant amount of funds when she joined the crew. You're no match for her. If you know what's good for you, you'll accept whatever role that is assigned to you." The only daughter of the Miller family? What does that make me and Sienna then? I immediately call Dad and coldly demand answers from him. "It hasn't even been a week since Mom passed away. Are you in that much of a rush to bring your mistress and other children into the family?"

Nikita Ragland is a young actress who has only recently made her debut. After starring in a few romance short series, she starts to believe she's a real-life princess. After another argument with her boyfriend, Dwayne Ferguson, Nikita doesn't hesitate to abandon a production crew of more than 500 people and catch a flight in the middle of the night just to appease her beloved boyfriend. When filming starts the next day, Nikita is nowhere to be found, and her hotel room is empty. Dozens of messages are sent to her, but none receive a response. It isn't until that evening that she finally calls on video, completely unbothered. "Mr. Casson, I went to pacify my boyfriend. Let's put filming on hold for now." The director, Walter Casson, is livid. "Are you kidding me? The locations are already booked, and the rest of the cast has their schedules set. How can we just stop production?" Nikita puts on an innocent expression, but her tone is unmistakably condescending. "Well, what do you want me to do? My boyfriend won't let me film kissing scenes with other men. I'll come back if you make Dwayne the male lead. He has never acted before, but we're a couple. He and I will be the perfect onscreen pairing." After saying this, Nikita pauses and glances at me as I stand beside Walter. "As for the current male lead, he can just be Dwayne's sidekick." Walter trembles with rage. "Absolutely not! Jeremiah hasn't done anything wrong. How can I replace him just like that?" Nikita flashes Walter a lazy smile. "If you won't agree, then I'm not acting. You can figure things out yourself."

My younger brother, Victor Bishop, has a silver tongue. That's why our parents, Paul Bishop and Jenna Cole, treat him like a treasure. I am socially awkward and blind to social cues, so they send me to the countryside to train. They even say there's no need to treat me well. They feed me scraps and make me sleep in the barn. After I turn 18, they put me in the family company to test me. Because of me, the Bishops become the richest family in Caldera. But Victor teams up with our parents and steals the credit that should've been mine. Everyone in the business world treats him like a star. Later, a building he cuts corners on collapses and kills dozens of workers. He makes me take the fall, and I spend ten years in prison. After I get out, he's afraid I'll fight him for the family fortune. Because of this, he hires someone to kill me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back in my senior year of high school. This time, I'm living for myself!

Grandma is far too trusting of strangers. She can strike up a conversation with anyone and casually tell them all about our family. She always says, "There aren't that many bad people in the world." During summer break, she takes my younger brother, Theo, and me swimming. After she entrusts Theo to a lifeguard to take him to the men’s restroom, my five-year-old brother is abducted and sold. However, Grandma tells my parents that I deliberately made him disappear because I want to take his place and stay in the city. My parents get a divorce because of it. They had already left me behind in the countryside, and now neither of them is willing to take me with them. As I chase after my mother's car, I get hit by a car and die. When I open my eyes, I am back on the day when I was ten years old. The swimming pool is filled with cheers and laughter. Theo calls loudly to Grandma. "Grandma! I need to pee!" Grandma smiles, scoops him up, and starts walking toward Samson, who is standing nearby. My heart tightens. I quickly get to my feet and follow her. Then I grab Theo by the hand. “No, you can’t go into the men’s restroom.”

After the SAT results come out, the girl everyone knows as the school's scholarship case throws a lavish graduation party. That same night, I get a text alert saying my credit card has been maxed out. I go to confront her, but she's already in my boyfriend's arms, sobbing like she's the victim. "Just because I'm on financial aid, I'm not allowed to throw a party?" My boyfriend rushes to comfort her and turns on me instead. "Your family's loaded anyway. Spending a little on Lacey isn't going to kill you." Sure, my family has money, but I'm not a saint, and I don't see why I should be footing her bills. I refuse to back down. I call the police to make her pay me back, but my boyfriend retaliates by going after my family's company, pushing it to the brink of bankruptcy. On my way to meet potential investors, my boyfriend and Lacey Kemp conspire to run me off the road and kill me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of her party.

On the third day after receiving our college acceptance letters, the most popular student in school, Natalie Simmons, proposes something in our class group chat. "We're all adults now, and we've already been accepted into college. We should do something exciting before the semester begins. Let's put on a show and stage a fake bank heist. It'll be fun." In my last life, I make 23 phone calls in a row and confiscate every prop they plan to use. No one gets hurt. But Natalie becomes the target of criticism from parents and teachers. She sinks into depression and eventually jumps into a lake. The entire class blames me and hates me. At our graduation dinner, they force a whole bottle of liquor down my throat. Then, they say they're taking me to the riverside to sober up. When I wake up, I'm in the river. Water fills my lungs, freezing cold. The news report summed up my life in five words. "Drunk Man Falls Into River." When I open my eyes again, my phone is vibrating. The very first message in the group chat is Natalie's proposal. This time, I don't say anything. I take screenshots and save copies.

I return home from studying abroad and find a new future sister-in-law waiting for me. Sandra Zimmer acts like she's already the lady of the house and the Slater family's daughter-in-law. She even vows to put me, her sister-in-law-to-be, whom she's never met, in my place. But no one tells her that my older brother, Wallace Slater, is adopted. I'm the Slater family's only heir, and even Wallace has to answer to me.

How terrifying is a man who's a simp and knows that he's one? In three years of dating, I've transferred six million dollars to my girlfriend, Nadine Stark. I made sure every transaction was labeled as a willing gift. I know she only sees me as her personal ATM, but I still go along with it. We break up over something ridiculous. I'm a little late in transferring money to her once, and she screams at me to get lost over and over again. So I do. That's when Nadine loses it. She starts stalking and harassing me, and she spreads rumors about me. She claims I have an STD, that I've stolen her gold necklace worth 150 thousand dollars, and that I've abused her cat to death. In the end, I lose all hope in her and switch to being a simp for someone else instead. But she's still not okay with that. Nadine actually drops to her knees before me to apologize and slaps herself across the face. She breaks down in tears and begs me to take her back. She wants me to love her again.

When my biological parents bring me home, Edward Sullivan, the son they had raised in my place, strongly opposes holding a welcome-home party for me. Left with no choice, my parents have me draw lots in the form of blind boxes just to be fair. However, I draw negative responses all three times, so they postpone the ceremony by a week. Five days later, my girlfriend, Zoe Ludwig, drops by to discuss our engagement. Edward fell in love with her at first sight and immediately demanded that she marry him instead. Marriage is no trivial matter. My parents surely won't indulge him. To my surprise, they once again have me draw a blind box to keep things fair. I nervously selected a box. Once again, it contained a “No.” Believing that I had simply been unlucky, I felt frustrated and dejected. That is what I thought until I overhear someone speaking in Franich in the restroom. "Dad, thank goodness you and Mom thought of using blind boxes. If you hadn't fixed the blind boxes, I wouldn't have been able to be with Zoe!" That is when I realize that the blind boxes aren't intended to ensure fairness but are instead used as a cover for favoritism. Having lived in Franica for some time, they assume I don't understand Franich. However, my adoptive father, Howard Jordan, has long since obtained a permanent residence permit in Franica. Instead of exposing them, I quietly call Howard. Since I'm not welcome here, I'm not wasting my time on them any longer!

It is 1:00 am, and I'm still in the inspection office in the suburban power plant, compiling the equipment defect records for the week. Suddenly, there's loud kicking at my door. Brad Greer's panicked voice rings out. "Sam! Come with me right now! The pressure-regulating valve on the main steam pipe of Unit 4 is completely stuck! "The automatic pressure relief device didn't get activated! If it explodes, the three maintenance workers in the control room next door will be burned to a crisp!" Just as I grab my hard hat and am about to rush out, an anonymous encrypted email pops up on my office computer. It said, "Don't go there. The three maintenance workers have already been burned to death by the gushing steam. "He is the one who violated regulations by performing the pressurized maintenance after replacing the valve core with a substandard one, and now, it's completely stuck. He's just trying to make you take the blame. "If you touch the valve even once, you'll get your fingerprints all over it. The CCTV footage will show only you fiddling with it. You're going to take the fall for him and spend the rest of your life in jail. "You're going to have to pay tens of millions of dollars in compensation, and the victims' families will even have the right to sell off all your assets for compensation. You'll never have a peaceful life in prison either." The kicking at the door continues, and the hinges on the wooden door are about to fall off. "Samuel Williams! What are you dawdling for? You're the only one in the whole plant now who's received valve debugging training! You're the only one who can do it! "If you come out any later, those three maintenance people are going to be cooked!" I grip the computer mouse and withdraw my hand from the doorknob. I then say, "I'm sorry, but I'm only an inspector, not a maintenance technician. You need to call the plant's emergency number right away."

My car broke down on the road, so I took off my jacket, popped the hood, and started checking the problem right there at the curb. A brand new convertible swung in and stopped in front of me, close enough to make a point. My ex-wife Sarah got out on the arm of a man in a tailored suit, one hand clamped over her nose in disgust. "Leo, all these years since the divorce and you're still a bottom-rung mechanic who reeks of motor oil." I wiped the grease off my hands. I could not be bothered to explain that this limited-edition supercar was one I had picked up brand new. When I stayed quiet, Sarah shoved a screenshot of her trading profits in my face. "See that? David got me into a tech stock. One day of gains beats everything you'll make fixing cars in a lifetime!" David Ashford looked down at me, his voice thick with contempt. "Sarah, what's the point of talking investing with a mechanic? He can't even read a price chart. "A mystery fund is buying this stock in batches. I'm already in at four-to-one leverage. I'm about to be set for life." Sarah laughed and threw a few bills onto my open hood. "Here's a tip. Buy yourself a decent coffee and stop cluttering up the view." I looked at the scattered bills, then at the ticker symbol on the screenshot. I knew that one well, and I smiled. That tech company's rally was nothing but a bull trap staged by a fund looking for cover while it unloaded its shares. Anyone still in it would be wiped out. I took out my phone and calmly sent a message to my trader. "We're up thirty percent. Sell it all."

My roommate buys an off-the-shoulder top. I happen to own one too. Apparently, that's all it takes for her to start telling everyone I'm obsessed with copying her. According to her, I'm like a rat, constantly watching her and stealing her style. Seriously? I open my closet and reveal rows upon rows of clothes, packed from end to end—all from the latest collections. Then I turn to her with a smile. "So, tell me. How exactly am I copying you?"

After siring 18 princes, the current king, Henry Barton, finally sires me, his first princess. On the day of my birth, Father vacates the entirety of West Tower to be my personal place of residence. Not only that, but he also changes the rules, decreeing that no one is allowed to be alone with me. As a result, I remain mute even after I turn six. Father's new consort, Elizabeth Muller, is showered with love and attention even though she only moved into the castle three months ago. The first time we meet, she takes my hand and says, "You're so well-behaved, Princess Julia. Let me take you to look at the fish." After making sure that we're alone in the garden, she grips my wrist. Her smile slowly fades away as she sneers, "You're just a useless princess. Why does everyone in the castle have to bend to your every whim? Once I give birth to a legitimate heir, you and your brothers will have to grovel at my son's feet." My eyes turn bloodshot when Elizabeth digs her nails painfully into my flesh. "No crying. If you're mute, just keep your mouth shut. No one will believe you no matter how many tears you shed." What Elizabeth doesn't know is that I'm not actually mute. On the contrary, I'm actually too good at speaking. I've had an extraordinary talent for mimicking others since I was a child and can easily repeat anything I hear. That's why everyone in the castle is forbidden from speaking when I'm around. It's also why I have been silent for the past six years. The banquet celebrating the harvest festival is hosted one month later. It's extremely rare for all 18 of my brothers to be present at the same time. They take turns teasing me, hoping to get me to speak. As I curl up in Father's embrace, I suddenly blurt out, "Once I give birth to a legitimate heir, you and your brothers will have to grovel at my son's feet."