Hypocrisy Inspirational Short Stories & Novels

The day before the start of a new semester, Gianna Sutton, my online girlfriend, tells me she lost me to her best friend in a dice game. I haven't even figured out what's going on when she suddenly adds me to the group chat with more than a hundred people. I notice the newly made announcement pinned to the top. "Congratulations to Natalia, our campus belle, for winning herself a 220-pound boyfriend!" Just then, someone posts a photo of me from high school. I am wearing an oversized uniform in the photo, my stomach pushing against the desk before me. I am so overweight that my eyes are barely visible. Those in the group chat immediately go wild. "That thing can't be human! It's clearly a pig in disguise!" "I actually feel kind of bad for Natalia. I mean, imagine having to complete couple tasks with a pig like him." "It's a total mismatch between a total knockout and an absolute beast!" It doesn't take long before someone sets up a betting pool over whether I'll show up tomorrow night. Gianna drops 4,500 dollars, betting that I won't show up. "I hope you won't blame me for this, Natalia. You're the one who rolled a six and won him in the game." Natalia Dafforn, the campus belle, remains completely silent. Cameron Gunter, the acknowledged scion in the freshman group chat, suddenly tags me. "You're definitely showing up tomorrow, right, Zachary?" I look at the messages piling up in the group chat and smile. I have already lost 145 pounds—from 275 to 130—just to meet Gianna in real life, something no one is aware of. In the past two months alone, I have been asked for my contact info more times than in my past 18 years combined. I quietly throw down 450 dollars, betting that I'll show up on time. Then, surrounded by everyone egging me on, I simply send one message. "A bet is a bet."

Derrick Caldwell once promised me that on the night of our pack's founding feast, he would announce that we'd been married for eight years. However, on the big day, his childhood friend, Lilith Sterling, takes my place. She sits beside him—the spot reserved for his Luna. The warriors say, "We heard you have a mate with whom you've been married for eight years, Alpha. Is this her?" Derrick smiles without denying it. He silently allows their assumption to stand. I want him to explain this to me, but he merely says, "You may have helped me become the Alpha, but your lowly birth is nothing compared to Lilith's noble status. As my mate, you need to be more tolerant." I don't argue with him. Instead, I turn and leave the pack he and I built together. Later, I start my own pack and turn it into the largest one in the federation. Derrick stands among the crowd during a ceremony where the Alpha King confers a medal of honor to me. He proudly tells anyone who will listen that I'm his wife. I act like I don't see him, and his eyes turn red with desperation.

Donna Sofia Marino's birthday is held on Valentine's Day. When Francesco Rossi, the Underboss of the Costa family, announces the news on behalf of Don Enzo Costa, everyone in the family is very happy. Well, everyone but me. As expected, Francesco is quick to add, "Someone needs to guard the headquarters. Camilla, you'll be the one in charge of this task." "What the Underboss means is that you don't really carry out any missions in your daily life. Besides, you have tons of spare time anyway. This time, you are to guard the headquarters so that you can deal with any emergencies that might arise." I just smirk sarcastically. The truth is, I'm always the one dealing with the most dangerous matters concerning the Costa family. The transactions of the firearms worth hundreds of millions of dollars are successfully carried out thanks to the plan I've spent countless sleepless nights perfecting. When a crossfire breaks out, I'm always on the frontlines, fighting for the family's glory despite getting injured. While I'm given the title as the executive director, I'm never given any actual power. In truth, my standing is lower than that of a soldato. I'm always the one carrying out the hardest, the most menial, not to mention the most dangerous tasks. But every time credit is given, it's never given to me. I've been enduring this injustice for five long years. This time, I no longer want to keep enduring anymore. With a smile on my face, I stand up from my seat. "Alright then, Underboss Rossi. I shall guard the headquarters. But this will be the last time I ever do this. After this task is completed, I will officially leave the Costa family once and for all."

My parents made me submit a written request to the family accountant for any expense over five dollars. They said it would keep me from becoming vain. On the day of the car accident, I sat in the ER, struggling to stay still through the pain. I charged $200 for emergency treatment to the card linked to my father's account. The bandage was barely on when my parents called to tear into me. "Who said you could steal from this family? The Bennett family has rules, and they do not include feeding parasites who bleed us dry!" They froze every card I had on the spot. The hospital discharged me because I couldn't pay for further observation. So I walked. More than ten miles back to the Bennett estate on Long Island, bleeding through my clothes. I pushed the gate open and saw every light in the main house burning. My parents were throwing Sophia an enormous 18th birthday party. The custom cake at the center of the party, made by one of New York's top pastry chefs, had cost three hundred twenty thousand dollars. This time I didn't stand there and ask them why, the way I always had. I calmly signed the waiver of inheritance and the financial settlement. Then I turned around and left.

I had a perception disorder that messed with how I saw and felt stuff. So when I got dropped into a horror game, everyone else freaked out trying to survive— Me? I thought I was in a dating sim. I raised a young fae like she was my kid, fell for the vampire count, and treated the undead like my in-laws. The first time I saw the vampire—face torn up, soaked in blood—I straight-up blushed. "You're really handsome." He froze. Then, low and uncertain: "Am I... really handsome?"

In Sicily, forgetting a face can get you killed. I was born face-blind. Unless I recognized someone's tattoo or voice, I had no idea who I was looking at. Sometimes, I couldn't even recognize my own parents. But my best friend, Sofia Ricci, was convinced I just wasn't trying hard enough. She decided it was time to cure me of all that "drama." She even got my brother, Don Victor Lombardi, and my fiancé, Luca Marchetti, to play along. The three of them called it "extreme survival training." At the underground casino, they once abandoned me in a private room packed with strangers. At family banquets, they'd ditch the suits I knew them by and vanish into the crowd. I would be left wandering from person to person, asking strangers for help because I couldn't tell who was who. To them, it was survival training. Today, we were in an Old Town square crawling with lowlifes, negotiating a deal. I only left for a moment to wash my hands. When I returned, the three of them had vanished. They were supposed to be waiting outside, but the bodyguards were nowhere to be seen either. Meanwhile, our enemies were closing in from the street. I instinctively reached for my radio. Then it hit me. Sofia had taken my encrypted radio earlier and offered to "hold on to it" for me. I swallowed my panic and backed into a nearby bar. As soon as I reached the counter, the bartender handed me a note. I knew the handwriting. Sofia. "We've shown you twice what the enemies on this street look like. Pick them out and find your own way out. You've got this, sweetie! We'll have drinks waiting for you at the safe house." I looked out the window. A blur of unfamiliar faces was closing in. What a joke. They call this training? They're gambling with my life. But maybe being face-blind isn't such a problem after all. With a gun in my hand, I don't need to recognize anyone. Anyone who comes near me is the enemy.