Melodramatic Imagination Short Stories & Novels

Margot Irving is the beloved princess of the Halsac Dynasty. During an accident, she falls into a pond, only to wake in a strange, bewildering modern world. Lost and frightened, she is found by Tristan Boyle, heir to one of Ashmont's most powerful families. He takes her home and patiently teaches her to use light switches and phones, introduces her to foods she has never seen before, and indulges every silly mistake she makes while trying to adapt. At night, he finds new ways to make her heart race. She blushes at his every touch, never suspecting that the man who has become her whole world has reasons of his own for keeping her close.

When I found out about Kenneth Hale, I didn’t argue with Claire O’Neill. I simply handed her the divorce papers. Her eyes turned red as she sat there. After struggling with the decision for a moment, she tore them up. "Give me ten days. I’ll send Kenneth far away, and he’ll never appear in our lives again." So over the next ten days, Claire went whitewater rafting with him, climbed snow-covered mountains, bungee jumped, and went skydiving. They did every thrilling thing they could think of. They watched the sunrise together by the ocean and went to Silver Pines Retreat to meditate, filling those days with every romantic experience imaginable. Then, on the ninth night, after I had packed all my belongings, I accidentally answered a video call from myself ten years in the past. "You really are me ten years from now! Then Claire and I must already be married with kids, right?" Pain flickered in my eyes. I walked straight onto the balcony and pointed the camera down at Claire and Kenneth, who were holding each other tightly, unable to let go. "This is what happens." Finley Morton looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. "That’s impossible…" My voice was exhausted, as though every last bit of strength had been drained from me. "Finley, please. Don’t marry her."

The armored bank truck I was assigned to was forced to stop when five people wearing black masks suddenly rushed out and started smashing the windows. I was about to hit the alarm when I realized one of them was my fiancée. Laughing, she raised a water gun and started spraying the bulletproof glass. "Hello, everyone! Our Valentine's Day bank robbery scene is about to begin! Once my boyfriend gets scared and hands over the keys, we'll tell him it was all a Valentine's Day surprise!" Her mother stood outside the window, knocking on the glass with a smile. "Callum, Yvonne wants to test whether you care more about her or money this Valentine's Day. Just play along. Get out and calm her down." At first, I planned to treat it as a private dispute. If I opened the door and dragged her away, the company would probably only dock part of my bonus. But just as my hand touched the door switch, a line of text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Don't open the door. In your previous life, this was how she got you killed.] I froze. A flood of memories suddenly rushed into my mind. In my previous life, I broke the rules and opened the armored door just to calm her down. In the end, I lost my job and faced a huge lawsuit. She broke up with me because she thought I was too poor. I was torn apart online, branded the clown who couldn't stop simping for his girlfriend. In the end, I was driven to despair and committed suicide. Now, my fiancée was still laughing outside and banging on the glass. I pulled back the bolt on my tactical rifle. "We're under an armed attack by unknown suspects. Possible armored truck robbery. Everyone, load your weapons and prepare to use deadly force!"

For ten years, I raised the finest bodyguard money could buy, and for a nanny's daughter, he turned his blade on me. I didn't spare a thought for the years between us. I had his tendons cut, his skills stripped away, and I threw him out of Meridian City. The live comments practically caught fire. [Somebody help, Celeste Ward has gone too far! Julian protected her for ten years, and the one time he didn't put her first, she's going to ruin him?] [This is the kind of love that terrifies me — if she can't have him, she'd rather destroy him. What did Julian even do wrong, trying to save the woman he loves?] [Run, Julian! A viper like her doesn't deserve your loyalty. Go to Amber — she's the one who can actually save you!] Me? Going too far? A traitor who turns on his own mistress for an outsider — if anything, I went easy on him. I gave a cold laugh, tore up his lifetime contract in front of everyone, and had every last one of his belongings burned. Then I went straight to the underground fight club and picked out the meanest, most reckless guy I could find. A month later, word reached Julian. He fought his way through every guard at my gate, half-dead by the time he made it to the door. He dropped to his knees in front of me, eyes rimmed red, clutching the hem of my skirt. "Miss Ward," he said, "that mongrel covered in tattoos — what does he have that I don't?"

My girlfriend, Sophie Selby, and my best friend, Darren Norton, have been at each other's throats for the past month. They're both determined to make the wedding perfect for me. Sophie wants something classic and grand. Darren insists romantic and picture-perfect is the way to go. They go through dozens of plans, arguing over everything from the guest count and Sophie's dress to the reception menu. And every time, I end up playing referee. Sophie rarely wins an argument with Darren, though somehow, we still end up going with whatever works best for her. They both joke that I'm the lucky one because I get to sit back and let them handle everything. The funny part is, whenever I actually try to give an opinion, neither of them wants to hear it. Darren just grins. "Relax. I've got this. You're getting the perfect wedding." Sophie sighs helplessly. "It's fine. Just a few more days. I can survive him that long." The night before the wedding, they're at it again. This time, it's the flowers. "I'm just saying, gardenias are prettier. Lilies are tacky." Sophie scoffs. "So you say you want gardenias, and suddenly everyone has to change the flowers for you? Can you stop making such a fuss?" Darren comes to find me afterward, looking completely crushed. "Zack, what do you think?" Honestly, I agree with Sophie. Changing all the flowers this late sounds like a nightmare. But then I see the hurt look on Darren's face. I sigh, ready to take his side. Before I can say a word, Sophie's thoughts suddenly sound in my head. [Fine. I owe Darren. I'll pay extra and have them switch the flowers to gardenias.] A second later, Darren's thoughts come through just as clearly. [Gardenias mean secret love. I may never get to be with you, but as long as you're happy, that's enough for me.]

Everyone in Chama Bay knew that the mafia boss, Dakota Thomas, loved me with her whole being and was terrified I would leave. She would walk through a field of bullets to keep me safe. Yet, on our wedding night, she did not even come home. When she got back, she was holding a weak and dark-lipped man and said, “Jackson, Pierce got poisoned to save me. I can’t watch him die!” Worried that I would not forgive her, she cut six gashes into her arm. Blood stained her shirt. When the wedding ended, I heard her underlings teasing her. “You went to see Pierce before even taking off your wedding dress. How tempting must that man be?” Dakota let out a low chuckle. “The last time I was with him, we didn’t leave the house for three whole days. So, what do you think?” I was stricken and summoned the system in despair. [I wish to leave this universe.] The system’s cold voice sounded. [Once you depart from this universe, all memory of you will cease to exist.] [Counting down: Seven days until universe departure.]

I Was Your Only Secret

It was the day before SAT. I made a video for my time capsule. If all went well, I'd be watching the video 10 years later, and all did go well. A bit too well, really. The moment I opened the video call app, I was connected to the future me. The one living a decade in the future. "Did I get into Harland U? Got a PhD? Is Johnny still my best friend? He has a very short temper. No one else can stand him. I bet you've gotten your PhD and married Zoe." The future was a bright, hopeful place in my mind. Unfortunately, the future me flew into a rage the moment Zoe's mouth left my tongue. "That bitch is giving you pens filled with vanishing ink so Johnny gets to be the state's top scorer instead of you! You're not getting into Harland! You're forced to repeat the year! "That bitch is going to act sorry and down and promise to get into an LDR with you only to go steady with Johnny right away! The whole campus knows about them! They're the perfect couple! "You're an idiot, Seamus! Your girl's going to cheat on you, and you'll thank the guy who railed her for fucking taking care of her!"

For three years, Hallie Larson has managed to keep her affair so carefully hidden that I can't find a single trace of the other man. Once, I find a pair of men's underwear in the back seat of her car, still warm, as if someone has only just taken them off. Other times, I notice fresh, suspicious marks behind her ear. Every time, I lose my temper. I tear through the house, demanding to know who the man is. Hallie only furrows her brow, looking more exhausted than guilty. "Sebastian, how long are you going to keep imagining things? If you're going to accuse me of cheating, then at least show me the man you claim exists." So, I start following her everywhere, 24 hours a day. I even call every relative and friend I can think of, asking them to stake out hotels with me so we can finally catch her in the act. But every time we force open a hotel room door, we find nothing. Mwanehilwe, Hallie is sitting calmly on the couch, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips. "Go ahead," she says. "Search the room." On the way out of the room, my mother takes my hand and sighs. "Sebastian, trust is the most important thing in a marriage. You keep making a scene like this every day. What do you think you're doing to Hallie's reputation?" Even my best friend tries to talk some sense into me. "Maybe you're under too much stress. Maybe you're imagining all of this." But I can't forget what I see on Hallie's collarbone—a faint trace of moisture she hasn't completely wiped away. It's so out of place, so suspicious, that I can't bring myself to dismiss it.

The day I got fired, I received a trial pass from an AI cosmetic clinic. It required neither surgery nor recovery time, yet it could deliver a flawless celebrity face overnight. But there was a catch. The face only lasted seven days after the complimentary trial. To keep it, I signed a contract to become the actress' body double, trading my time, identity, and freedom for another week of beauty. As the years passed, I kept paying the price to maintain a face that wasn't mine until one day, I realized I no longer wanted to live in someone else's shadow.

Ever since I can remember, every person who crosses my path has a floating number above their head. It shows the exact number of times we will ever see each other again in this lifetime. When that number hits "1", it means this meeting is our final goodbye. At ten years old, my grandmother's number dropped to "1". That afternoon, she brushed my hair one last time before passing away peacefully in her sleep. When I graduated from college, my mentor’s number stood at "2". After our second meeting, he moved his family abroad and never returned. At twenty-five, I married Lucas Bolton, a star defense attorney. He was an absolute powerhouse in the courtroom, yet he gave all his tenderness to me. Throughout our seven years of marriage, he made it a point to come home on time every single day. He willingly handed over all his income, and no matter how busy he was on business trips, he always called me on video before going to bed. Most importantly, from the very first day I met Lucas, the number above his head wasn't a few hundred or a few thousand. It was an endless infinity sign. I truly believed it meant we were destined to spend the rest of our lives together. That didn't change until the eve of our seventh wedding anniversary, when Lucas suddenly started working late all the time. Even though he never usually wore cologne, his collared shirts began carrying the unfamiliar scent of gardenias. When I confronted him about it, he paused for a second before leaning down to kiss my forehead. "A recent client is going through a tough divorce with her kid. She's been dropping by the office pretty often, so it probably rubbed off by accident." I looked at the unchanged infinity symbol floating above his head and told myself I was just being paranoid. After all, the numbers never lie. That was until another night when Lucas came home late again. Suddenly, the symbol that had never changed began to flicker. Its golden light faded away, and in its place, a bright, blood-red number "3" appeared. That was the moment I knew Lucas and I had no future left.

After my mission failed, I linked myself to the Perfect Partner Program and became Gloria's perfect husband. When rumors about her and Damian blew up, I stepped in and shut them down. When Damian framed me and Gloria said nothing, I rushed to take the blame and apologize. Even after she got pregnant with Damian's child, I didn't fight. Didn't make a scene. I just signed the divorce papers and handed Damian the title of "husband." But she wasn't happy. She shoved me onto the bed, anger burning in her eyes. "Mason, I told you to behave. I didn't tell you to push me away. Are you blaming me now?" I went still, staring up at the woman above me. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

My mission to win her love had failed, and the system told me I could leave this world in fifteen days. As soon as I heard the news, I agreed to the divorce my wife wanted. I stopped making a scene whenever she left me behind to take care of her childhood friend. I stopped screaming myself hoarse when she spent my money on vacations with him. At first, she even praised me for being understanding. Then she smiled and told me she planned to marry him, and I still didn't react. She began to panic.

My husband Norman had always hated how his childhood friend Julia clung to him no matter the occasion. He even cut her off for my sake. One morning, I woke up and realized that I had mysteriously swapped bodies with Julia. I wanted to find my husband and figure out what to do, fearing he'd turn me away because of Julia's appearance. I cooked up a hundred explanations in my head until I finally arrived at our home. When Norman opened the door and saw me, he frowned and quickly shut the door, pushing me away. Just as I was about to explain that I wasn't Julia, he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "What are you doing here? Can't stand being apart from me for even two days, huh?"

The day I give birth, I hear my newborn daughter, Kayla Green's voice. "Mommy, Daddy is going to see Ms. Knightley today." Christian Green is standing beside my hospital bed when his phone lights up. A new text message flashes across the screen. The sender's name is Summer Knightley. His thumb hovers over her name for several long seconds before he quietly turns the phone over, hiding the screen from view. "Mari, something urgent came up at the office. I have to go." "He's lying." Kayla's voice doesn't come from the tiny bundle in my arms, but it echoes directly inside my mind. "It's not work, Mommy. He's going to see Ms. Knightley. Her flight lands in two hours. Next month, he'll start transferring all of his assets. The apartment, the savings, the cars. He won't leave us a single thing. "A year from now, you and I will be discarded with nothing." I pick up my phone. "Alistair, I need you to investigate two people—Christian Green and Summer Knightley. I want everything on them."

After Helena Ashbourne cheated on me with her male assistant again, my mind came apart. At the lowest point of it, I picked up the fruit knife on the table and meant to end things myself. "Why are you hurting yourself again? Doesn't she like you anymore?" I looked up, and sixteen-year-old Helena was walking toward me with pain all over her face. She spoke gently. "Tell me who she is. I'll make her pay for you." I looked into the bright eyes of the girl in front of me. I didn't say anything. Quietly, I pointed at her face. Later, Helena put me in a psychiatric hospital herself. In the gaps between doses of sedative, the girl sat down beside my bed again. She stared out at the woman with a face so much like her own, and the light in her eyes went out inch by inch. Then she forced the words out, and every one of them came with blood. "I don't care who she is. I'm going to kill her." Sixteen-year-old Helena never lied to me. She meant every word.

I, Darlene Cooley, have an ability. Whenever I touch an object, I can see the scenes it has experienced over the past day. I've been married for five years. Every time I help my husband, Bernard Hoffman, tidy up his suits or organize his briefcase, what I see are conference rooms, whiteboards, and workstations. Once in a while, I appear in those scenes. He'll be secretly reading my messages under his desk, the corners of his mouth lifting unconsciously. Bernard is so gentle that it feels almost unreal. In winter, he places my slippers by the heater to warm them up. No matter how busy his business trips are, he video calls me right on time. When I casually mention I feel like eating caramel popcorn, he drives halfway across the city to stand in line for it. My friends all say I'm blessed, and I feel the same way. That is, until yesterday, when he comes back from a trip. I go to help him unpack, and the moment I touch that gray cashmere sweater, a flood of images rushes in. Bernard is sitting across from a short-haired woman. Her eyes are bright, and a shallow dimple appears when she smiles. He listens to her speak, earnest and focused, with his head tilted slightly to one side. A faint smile lingers at the corner of his mouth. It's been a long time since he has listened to me speak like that. The vision ends. I crouch in front of the suitcase, my hand still resting on the cashmere sweater, unable to snap out of it for a long while. Then, I stand up and walk over to the cabinet, where I pull out my own suitcase.

My wife, Camilla Fender, who was also the richest person in Jaxonville, had just given birth. Meanwhile, I, Frank Langley, was dragged into a survival game. With our baby strapped to my back, I ran through the woods for my life. I then heard Camilla's best friend's voice coming through the loudspeaker. "Camilla, why aren't you staying at the hospital with Frank to recover after giving birth? Why did you come here? Is your lover throwing another tantrum?" Camilla chuckled. Her voice was filled with helpless affection. "Yeah. Jack insisted on coming to watch this circus show. Frank thought I had business to handle, so he even pushed me to come back here when our child's surgery was happening. He's ridiculously foolish." I desperately slammed against the surveillance camera to try to get Camilla's attention and ask for help, but because Jack Solomon screamed in fright, she simply pressed the punishment button in her hand. An electric current coursed through my entire body. My son coughed up blood, and the blood splattered all over the ground. I curled up with tears streaming down my face. As the footsteps of the people hunting us grew closer and closer, the survival game reached its climax. Everyone was gambling on who would survive until the end. Only Camilla's voice remained cold. "I'm betting a million dollars that the crazy father and his son will die!"

After I fail in my mission, I am about to be erased by the system and will disappear from this world completely. In the final 24 hours before I am erased, I agree to donate a kidney to my younger brother, Zachary Durham. My wife, Judith Sanford, hugs me excitedly and says she will not divorce me anymore. When Zachary plagiarizes my design, I take the blame and admit that I am the one who copied it. My parents nod in satisfaction, saying I have finally become sensible. Finally, I become the good husband and son they always wanted. But when they see my lifeless body sometime later, they all lose their minds.

In the seventh year of marrying into the Dawson family, Amanda Dawson's childhood friend, Leroy Blanchard, has returned from overseas. Leroy is very outgoing and handsome, not to mention he's extremely capable, too. Soon, he becomes the apple of everyone's eye. Even my father-in-law, who has never liked me, to begin with, has nothing but praises for Leroy. On Leroy's birthday, Amanda spends a huge amount of money in organizing his birthday party before declaring her love for him in a high-profile manner. The entire city is waiting to watch me, the legally-wedded husband, embarrass myself just so I can kick up a huge fuss over the whole thing. But I merely smile faintly before packing my things and getting ready to leave. I've been in this world for seven years. Finally, I'm about to finish acting out all of my scenes as the lovesick male supporting lead.