Male POV Plot Twists 단편 소설 & 소설

I've been sponsoring a poor student named Sophie Martin who's about to drop out, allowing her to graduate from university without a hitch. When Sophie confesses to me on graduation day, I firmly reject her advances. I didn't expect her to slander me after her failed confession, accusing me of sponsoring her only because I want to keep her by my side for salacious reasons. I'm thrust into the eye of the storm and forced to endure endless criticisms. My university fires me to save its reputation. No other school dares to employ me. I become depressed due to constant verbal harassment from the netizens. I barely survive as I hide in a dim basement every day. One day, I see Sophie on the news by chance. She has become an inspirational microcelebrity and is enjoying a life of fame and fortune. Infuriated, I seek her out and demand an explanation. But she pushes me off the building, leading to my death. After I died, Sophie tells the public that I refused to give up and continued to harass her, claiming that's the reason why I slipped and fell off the building. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I've been transported back in time to the day that Sophie tells me that she's going to drop out of school.

After handing out care packages for the senior citizens who live alone, I casually pick up a jug of peanut oil from the shelf. I'm about to leave when my longtime rival, Ryan Cooper, points a finger in my face. "Have you no shame, Will?" he yells. "We're all here watching, you know? How dare you line your own pockets!" Lynette Watson, the head of the neighborhood office, and several elderly people who haven't left yet stop dead in their tracks. Suddenly, a dozen pairs of eyes land on me. Ryan continues ranting, spittle flying everywhere, "Those are donated gifts for the elderly! What gives you the right to take one? Are you elderly? And to think you'll be awarded the Outstanding Volunteer! "Even doing charity work hasn't managed to clean up your sneaky ways! If I hadn't caught you red-handed today, were you going to start dipping into the organization's funds?" He then gives me a contemptuous once-over. Even Lynette is looking at me with disapproval. I glance toward the checkout counter and ask calmly, "Do I have to pay for the oil I take from my own store?"

On the third night of my business trip out of state, I scrolled past a video of my wife locking lips with my best friend at a music festival. Jack Wilson and I had been brothers for twenty years. The day I married Emily, he cried like a baby and swore he'd give up everything he had if it meant I'd be happy for the rest of my life. But tonight, my best friend and my wife proved that promises don't mean a damn thing. After a few minutes of silence, I called Jack. "Hey, you end up catching that Bruce Springsteen show? Heard the production was insane." He paused. Then, casual as ever: "Yeah, it looked good. Saw some clips online." "Too bad you weren't there, though. Kinda boring going alone. When you getting back? We'll catch the next one together." I said sure. Hung up. Caught the next red-eye straight to his apartment. They took everything I gave them—my loyalty, my trust, my love. Now I'm going to take everything they have.

"Mr. Clarke, can you help me get rid of the tattoo on my butt?" The young man asks me for help with red-rimmed eyes. A lot of people have specifically requested me to tattoo something on their body. Honestly, this is the first time I've received a request to remove a tattoo from one's butt. He grits his teeth, as though he has finally made up his mind. "I just found out that my girlfriend has a husband! I want to break up with her, so I must get rid of the tattoo!" I nod in response. "Strip down and let me see the area and the mass covered." The man hesitates for a moment before turning his back on me and slowly taking off his pants. As soon as his right buttcheek is revealed, I feel my breath getting hitched in my throat. My wife, Annie Sylvester's face is actually tattooed on that area.

Right after my father dies, I receive a call from the hospital, urging me to settle the hospital bills. "You're the next of kin for Carl Stone, Bed 23 of the Neurology Ward, correct? You still owe the hospital 246,000 dollars. Kindly settle the bill as soon as possible." The call completely catches me off guard. I turn around to look at my father's body in the casket. A rush of anger courses through me, but I suppress it and say, "I'm afraid you've made a mistake. My father is no longer a patient at the hospital." "I knew people like you would never admit to it. Do you think you can get away with it just because you snuck him out of the hospital without permission? "I'm giving you 24 hours to complete the payment. You don't want to find out what will happen if you don't!" Well, now I'm furious. "Go ahead and test me."

The night before the wedding, the effects of the drug wore off. I woke up in the master bedroom of the estate to the sound of laughter. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my custom-made suit being cut into strips by Jessica Solomon's male best friend, Chris Johnson. As he twirled a pair of scissors in his hand, he joked with the viewers on his livestream. "Man of the house? Please. He's lying there completely helpless. Anybody could do whatever they want to him." Jessica's friends burst into laughter and chimed in. "Jessica put sleeping pills in his milk herself. Anybody would've been knocked out cold." The livestream chat flooded with comments ridiculing me as the pathetic man marrying into a wealthy family, but Jessica simply watched with amusement and reached over to ruffle Chris' hair. "Feeling better now? Be good and end the livestream. If he wakes up and causes a scene, tomorrow's wedding will be a mess." Only after everyone left did Jessica sit down beside the bed and pull the blanket over me. "Chris is depressed. He can't handle being upset. We'll deal with this later. "I've already arranged for a replacement suit to be flown in overnight on a private jet. Honestly, that one suits you better anyway." My fingers tightened around the bedsheet. Silently, I sent a message to Katie Everton. [I'm not getting married. Does what you said before still stand?]

At the company's afterparty, my assistant, Charlie Langford, lodges a complaint against me while holding a stack of racy photos. "Ms. Spencer, after you slept with me, you told me that you'd take responsibility for me. Why are you entering a marriage alliance with another family soon? "Who did you take me for? A plaything? Then I might as well jump off this building right now just to prove my innocence!" H-Hey now! The only time I've made private contact with Charlie is when I had my driver, Lorelei Green, give him a ride half a month ago purely out of convenience! How on earth did Charlie warp that encounter into having physical intimacy with me? Moreover, I'm a straight man! Why would I even have that sort of relationship with Charlie, to begin with?

I lent the company two hundred thousand dollars' worth of camera equipment for three years, and my boss repaid me by cutting my salary. My monthly pay dropped from two thousand dollars to six hundred. I went to ask him for an explanation. But when I arrived, the newly hired photography intern was showing him a refurbished camera. "The company can use my equipment too. Six hundred dollars a month is enough for me." My boss spotted me coming in and seized the chance to put me in my place. "See, Joe? If you won't do the job, plenty of other people will." I froze for a moment, then asked the intern, "How can you live in Fairhaven on just six hundred dollars a month?" He answered with self-righteous conviction. "Why couldn't I? I've done the math. A room in a shared place farther out costs a hundred and sixty. Food is six dollars a day, so a hundred and eighty a month. If I'm still short, I'll take out a loan." "What's wrong with enduring a little hardship when we're young? We should be working hard and learning, not constantly making demands of the company. How do you not understand something so basic?" My boss beamed as he listened. I smiled too. So, you enjoyed suffering? Fine. I bought the company. It was time to show them how a real capitalist operated.

Abigail Southall, my wife, has once again lost Ethan and Owen Lincoln, the two young men she keeps by her side. She is trying to coax them to return this time by offering a signed divorce agreement. I have witnessed this routine of running away and chasing countless times. I throw fits, cause scenes, and even try running away from home like those two, but every single time, all she does is hand me a check with a larger amount than before. She then flashes a mocking smile and asks, "Is that enough for you?" I calmly take the divorce agreement and sign my name on the line. Abigail, holding my hand in satisfaction, says, "It's just a divorce for show; I'll withdraw it before the cooling-off period ends. I'm glad you are finally being reasonable. I mean, women of my status all have a desire to conquer, especially when it comes to dealing with a pair of aloof young men. "I'll come back to you so that we can settle down and live a good life once I win them over." I offer no rebuttal and simply pick up the check from the floor, thinking that she has no idea that I'm not going to wait for her anymore.

My girlfriend, Edith Zimmerman, pulls away whenever I get too close. The more I like her, the more she can't stand me. At the proposal I had planned so carefully, she walked hand in hand with my best friend, Blake Shelton. In front of everyone, she announced, "I slept with Blake." She watched the happy, hopeful look on my face slowly fade. For the 27th time, she asked me, "You don't love me as much anymore, do you?" I nodded. Edith looked delighted. "That's great! Now we can be together again for a while." We had been together for eight years. Yet she hugged and kissed Blake, held his hand, and went on dates with him. They even celebrated their own anniversaries. She did everything she could to wear down my feelings for her. Edith would only love me once I stopped loving her. Blake gave her waist a playful squeeze, then looked at me helplessly. "I gave up my first time so you two could have a good relationship. You'd better make it up to me." Edith smiled at him. "Okay, fine. You're my hero. I'll give you whatever you want." They went back and forth, discussing what Blake wanted as compensation. I watched them in silence without saying a word. I simply threw the roses I had been holding into the trash. Edith didn't know this. I had promised Dad that if this proposal failed, I would leave the country with him and settle down there.

My wife was eight months pregnant when she indulged her first love for the ninety-eighth time and let him run our child down with his car. My lawyer wife had promised me she'd bring him to justice, but in court, she suddenly changed her statement. "Mr. Quinn has a serious history of mental illness. His family will discipline him verbally, but he shouldn't be held criminally responsible." After the hearing, she shielded Caleb Quinn as he sobbed in public, then leaned close to my ear and said softly, "I promised you I'd only indulge him one hundred times. Let's just use up one chance. I can't watch him go to prison, can I?" I looked at my wife's flat stomach and felt calmer than I'd ever felt before. Then I nodded. She'd relied on that bet for six years, certain she could do anything. She'd forgotten there was only one chance left.

I'm doing my hospital rounds in the middle of the night when my personal phone suddenly rings. I answer it, hearing a frantic woman's voice. "My husband is having a heart attack! Please hurry over and save him, Dr. Chapman!" I'm just about to ask for the address and leave when rows of comments suddenly pop up right in front of my eyes. [Don't go!] [Her husband is actually already long dead.] [She's left the doormat outside her door wet, just waiting for you to step on it.] [She'll insist her husband died because you attempted to save him the moment you enter the house.] I feel a chill spread through the back of my neck. On the other end of the line, the woman starts crying even harder. "Are you still on the line? My husband really isn't going to make it, Dr. Chapman!" I take a deep breath and say, "If your husband is having a heart attack, please call 911 first. I'm not allowed to treat patients privately outside the hospital."

Before the world turned to ice, her family came knocking, ready to negotiate the terms of our marriage. They wanted more than commitment. They wanted three million dollars and three luxury homes. My parents shut them down immediately. It was ridiculous. Then, the storm hit. The blizzard sealed us inside the house. With numbers on their side and no mercy to spare, her family took control of everything. The food. The heat. Our chances. When we fought back, we lost. They dragged us outside and left us in the snow. We froze. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back to before it all began.

When I was ten, I suddenly gained the ability to see threads connecting people above their heads. And only two people who had slept together would be connected by these impossible-to-hide threads. Over the years, two more threads had appeared above my father's head, and my mother had threatened to divorce him again and again. Because of what I had witnessed, I practiced celibacy after reaching adulthood. When choosing a wife, I placed loyalty above everything else and eventually chose the chaste, aloof genius with not a single thread above her head—Madeline Woods. During my bachelor party the night before the wedding, my closest friends played a game of whoever lost had to let everyone else look through his phone. When it was Oliver Sutton's turn, he clutched his phone tightly and said smugly, "Don't look at mine. She asked me for it eight times last night. The photos aren't exactly fit for public viewing." Everyone immediately started hooting. "You? Eight times in one night? Your girlfriend's pretty desperate. Come on, hand it over and let us have a look." "You're being awfully secretive about your relationship. Has anyone here even met your girlfriend?" I was about to smooth things over when I saw one of the four threads above Oliver's head stretch through the crowd and connect directly to my fiancee, Madeline. But when I had driven her home the night before, there had been nothing above her head. Even half an hour ago, she texted me. "Our wedding night is tomorrow, Flynn. We can finally belong to each other. I love you!" I looked at Madeline standing outside the door, gazing at me with deep affection. Then, I looked at the exhausted Oliver. I raised my glass, forcing down my fury as I lightly clinked it against his. "Oliver, does your girlfriend happen to be someone we know?"

After the socialite heiress gets dumped by a poor student named Andrew Stephens, she goes completely mute. Her mother, Nora Booker, announces that whoever gets her daughter to speak again will be given a million dollars. I make my way through all the men trying to get through to her and say, "Wasn't it just last night that you were calling me 'Daddy' in bed?" "That didn't happen!" Alicia Ellison blurts out. Nora wires me a million dollars on the spot. Over the moon, I follow Alicia around every day, teasing her while making a killing. She can't talk back and can't hit me, so out of frustration, she shuts me up with her own mouth. Overnight, I go from the heiress' personal companion to the heiress' official boyfriend. Every time I crack a dirty joke, she makes sure to get back at me until I don't have the nerve to say it again. Right before our wedding, her first love comes back after life gives him a serious beating. That night, Alicia doesn't come home. Grabbing the remaining half box of condoms and the savings I've accumulated over the past ten years, I walk out of our home. After delivering the condoms to them, I use my savings to buy myself a plane ticket back home.

As soon as I receive my year-end bonus, I transfer 100 thousand dollars to my wife, Zoe Steele, so that she can prepare the holiday gifts for both families right away. I even tell her to buy the best quality gifts for our parents, especially the box of premium liquor meant for my dad. On New Year's Eve, I rush home to have dinner with my parents. But weirdly enough, Dad, who's an avid drinker, starts having tea instead of liquor at the dining table. This leaves me perplexed. "Dad, why aren't you cracking open a bottle of liquor for yourself during the holidays?" With a smile on my face, I get up to my feet so that I can carry the box of liquor over. "Zoe had someone buy the liquor for you, you know. I hear that the taste is exceptional." "Stop!" Dad slams his pipe against the table loudly, his face a starking shade of crimson. "Edgar, don't ever send such gifts home. I know that life is difficult for you in the city and that making money is hard. We Kennedys may be poor, but we are people with pride! "Now, everyone in the village is gossiping about us behind our backs! They claim that I've been boasting about your wealth!" Dad's words confuse me to no end. After I unscrew a bottle of liquor, I sip from it, only to feel thunderstruck. This isn't premium liquor at all! This is just mineral water packaged as liquor!

As I was watching a movie in the cinema, a rude child kept kicking the back of my seat. He even took off his shoe and extended his foot next to my face. I turned around and chastised him to take his seat, but he stabbed me in my neck with a sharp needle. Feeling the pain, I reached out and wiped the blood from my neck. His mother chuckled. “It’s fine, he’s just fooling around with my sewing needle. It’s just a harmless jab. It’s not like it has poison on it. Be a good sport about it.” I threw the popcorn bucket onto the floor and aimed my phone’s flashlight at the rude child. I roared, “The child’s holding a discarded needle that was used on an AIDS patient in the hospital! There’s an AIDs patient’s blood on it!”

Mindy Graham left me at the altar to meet her ex-boyfriend, who left her five years ago when she was almost disabled. The wedding guests were shocked when they saw me clenching the corner of her wedding dress, trying my best to keep up appearances. "Can you not leave now?" Mindy hesitated but chose to slowly pry off my fingers while shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I need to find out why he left me so heartlessly back then." She left without turning back amidst the shocked gasps from the crowd. My mother, who had a heart condition, trembled with rage, and I watched in shock as she passed out and fell to the ground. "Mom!" I was breaking down but forced myself to get it together and take her to the hospital. I fell to the floor outside the surgery room, and that was when two messages popped up on my phone. The first message was from Johnny Packer: [I told you that Mindy would never choose you if I came back. You've lost again.] Mindy sent the second message: [Give me 30 days. We'll be broken up during this time, but I promise I'll love you and only you after this is over.] There was a dead look in my eyes as I laughed bitterly with self-deprecation. This time, I refused to let myself lose.

In the third year after I've run away from home, my parents finally remember my existence. But the reason is that the fake heir, Jayson Norman, is displeased with his marriage partner in the upcoming marriage alliance. That's why my parents instantly think of getting me to replace Jayson in the marriage. When Mom sees Katrina Cobb, the woman whom I've eloped with, rummaging through the trash in a wheelchair, she feels extremely satisfied. "Back then, Joshua refused to stick to his role as the heir of the Norman family. He even went as far as to push Jayson down the stairs just so he could elope with this wretched woman! I bet he must be riddled with remorse by now!" With hazy eyes, Katrina mutters, "Yeah, he was filled with remorse. He regretted going back to that place you call 'home' with you." Dad lets out a cold huff. "Well, that's enough tantrum on his part! Tell him to get his ass home for the marriage alliance, and we'll consider the past water under the bridge!" Having noted Katrina's silence, Dad wastes no time in kicking her wheelchair over. "You wretched cripple! Where have you hidden my son?" I can only float in mid-air as I gaze down at Katrina, who's wailing in pain on the ground. At that moment, I feel as though my soul is getting ripped apart. "Mom, Dad, I've been dead for three years. How am I going to take Jayson's place in this marriage alliance?"

I had my only son, Jensen Selway, late in life. So, I treasured him from the moment he was born. Jensen was sickly and could not afford to overexert himself. To protect him, I found eight potential brides for him and raised them as my own. I sent all eight to elite schools, paid for their education overseas, and once they came of age, brought them into Selway Group for training and development. But when they grew up, all eight women fell in love with the housekeeper’s son, Joshua Crowe, and gradually began neglecting Jensen. Even Quinn Jolliffe, the one I had pinned the most hopes on, secretly slept with Joshua and became pregnant with his child. To force me to accept Joshua, they went to the hospital together and had themselves sterilized. Quinn slapped eight sterilization certificates down in front of me. “Dad, they have had sterilization surgery. And I have also made an appointment. If you refuse to accept Joshua and the baby I’m carrying, you’ll never have grandchildren to inherit the family fortune.” I was completely dumbfounded. “My fortune naturally goes to my biological son. What do these eight outsiders have to do with it?” I thought. I did not want Jensen to be hurt, so I quickly arranged a marriage for him. Three months later, Jensen blushed as he took his wife’s hand. “Dad, I really like the woman you arranged for me. She’s already carrying my child.”