Cerita Pendek & Novel Male POV

On Christmas Eve, my wife, Abigail Balmer, publicly announced her relationship with her forty-ninth boy toy. [My forever love, @Dwayne Porter.] [My forever love, @Abigail Balmer.] Then she turned to comfort me. "He just lost a dare game, that's all. Don't take it to heart." Everyone mocked me as the man who'd married into money, too spineless to fight back. But I never made a scene. What they didn't know was that I'd struck a deal with the System. Every time Abigail was unfaithful, one year of her lifespan would transfer to me. By my count, of the eighty years she should have lived, she now had exactly one left. All I had to do was survive until the New Year, and she'd meet her natural end. And I would walk away with our three children and inherit the Balmer family's trillion-dollar fortune.

On the day my grandfather died, my wife Tamara Kelton broke my right index finger with her own hands. She grabbed my hand, forced a pen into my grip, and pressed it down onto the inheritance waiver. Blood smeared across the paper where my signature landed. "If you'd just agreed to sign, you wouldn't have had to go through all this." She dropped my hand, her tone flat. The bodyguards kept me on my knees in the mud. A few steps away, my young brother, Wyatt Ashcroft, stood with Tamara's oversized coat draped over his shoulders, our parents shielding him between them. Not a single drop of rain had touched him. With reddened eyes, he walked over and reached out to help me up.

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.”

During Thanksgiving, my wife, Maya Golding, said that she had an important project to finish late at night and sent me to her parents' house to deliver the holiday gifts. As soon as I started my trip with the gifts, my phone rang. "Bro, move your car, please. My car can't leave the parking lot." 'Move the car? But I am already in the car,' I thought. I answered, "You must have called the wrong person." There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. "Is the Audi in lot 695 not yours?" I tightened my grip on the phone as a bad feeling rose inside me. Maya had driven that Audi today, and she had a designated parking spot at the office. "Yes, where are you? I'll go move the car." "Seaview Hotel, please come quickly; I'm in a hurry." I remembered how Maya had spent two hours doing her makeup and wearing her new dress before she left home today. I stepped hard on the accelerator and drove straight to my in‑laws' house. "Mom and Dad, it is a holiday today. Maya and I booked a table at Seaview Hotel; let us go out to celebrate."

I rode overnight in the cheapest coach seat I could get to negotiate a deal for the company. Sticking strictly to the company's meal allowance, I treated the client, Caelum Worthington, to a 10-dollar takeout meal. I never expected us to hit it off so well that he started calling me "Bro" on the spot. He took me straight to the most exclusive club in the city and dropped 50,000 dollars on the full VIP treatment. When I returned to the office, I only submitted a few takeout-meal receipts for reimbursement. Then, out of nowhere, my boss, Oscar Richmond, threw the 50,000-dollar bill from the club right in my face. "You went to negotiate with a client, and you let him pay to entertain you? You're openly taking kickbacks, aren't you?" he demanded. Before I could even pull out the 200,000,000-dollar contract I'd just signed, the reprimand notice had already gone out to the entire company. They withheld my entire salary and bonus, then demanded that I repay the 50,000 dollars myself. Otherwise, they said I'd rot in prison for the rest of my life. "That 50,000 dollars was spent because the client was showing the company respect. That makes it a company asset! You embezzled it, so you have to pay back every last cent! Pay up or go to prison. Take your pick." I looked at the greedy, twisted expression on my boss' face and smiled. Right in front of him, I dialed Caelum's number. "Hey, Cael. You got a minute?" "Tonight, the usual spot. Full VIP treatment. It's on me," Caelum replied.

After failing to seduce his ice queen CEO wife, Josie Sinclair, for the 999th time, Tyler Ford finally called his sister Zoey. "I've decided to get a divorce, Zoey." There was three-seconds of silence before Zoey said solemnly, "I told you long ago that you would never be able to bring someone like Josie down from her pedestal." Tyler teared up as he smiled. "You're right. I was way over my head."

My wife, three months pregnant, falls into the lake while I'm fishing nearby. As I watch her struggle in the water, I shout anxiously, "Stop thrashing around! You're scaring all the fish away!" My fishing buddy stares at me in disbelief and demands to know why I'm still worried about fishing instead of saving my wife. I calmly rebait my hook and cast it back into the lake. "She'll be fine in the water for a little while, but if that big fish gets away, it's gone for good. Besides, what if I jump in and drown too? Better leave the rescuing to the professionals." Just then, sirens sound in the distance. The rescue team finally arrives, and everyone around us breathes a sigh of relief. But one of the rescuers freezes when he sees me. "Gary? What are you doing here?" Then, he realizes the woman in the lake is my wife. "That's Claire? She went through seven rounds of IVF to get pregnant! Why aren't you saving her? You're the best swimmer on the team!" The tourists around us erupt in outrage. Meanwhile, Claire's struggles grow weaker and weaker until only one hand remains above the surface. At last, my expression changes. I shoot to my feet. Everyone quickly moves aside, assuming I'm finally going to save her. Instead, I pull hard on my fishing rod. A huge fish bursts out of the water. I immediately break into a grin.

Mom and Dad ask me and my adopted brother, Hayden Adley, who we want to celebrate the New Year with. In my first life, I choose to go back to Grandma's and Grandpa's place with Mom, while Hayden goes with Dad. We get into a car accident when Mom's driving us back to her hometown. One of my kidneys has to be surgically removed because it's punctured during the accident, but I still pass away because my body isn't able to survive with just one kidney. In my second life, I choose to go with Dad instead. However, Dad is abducted by one of his enemies when we're on our way back to his hometown. For some inexplicable reason, I'm convicted of the abduction and locked behind bars. In the end, I'm beaten to death by my cellmates. In my third life, I wonder how to spend the New Year as I stand in front of the house. I hear voices coming from beyond the door. "I'll think of a way to get my hands on one of Cameron's kidneys to appease the person you offended if he chooses to come with me," Mom says. "If he goes with your dad instead, we'll get him to take your place in prison. Don't worry. We'll definitely think of something to help you." I'm stunned and stand rooted to the spot. I have earned three lives after working in the Underworld for three thousand years. I have always been worried about Mom and Dad since they passed away, which is why I'm always in a rush to be reborn. I have no idea that they intentionally send me to my death just to help Hayden avoid facing punishment. I call out to the Grim Reaper who's just about to leave. "I changed my mind. I want to be reborn as someone else for my last life. I don't want to suffer with them anymore." The Grim Reaper floats back to me. "Sure. You can start again as long as you kill yourself within the next seven days."

On Thanksgiving, my cousin, Harry Beck, brings his fiancee home for dinner. When she sees the two rows of little toys on my desk, she is surprised and tells me that each kid's meal from the fast-food place comes with one toy. She jokes that I must have eaten a lot of fried chicken to collect so many. Thinking my parents spoil me, she even tells me not to eat so much because it is unhealthy. I'm confused. I tell her I've never eaten there and that Mom specifically buys these toys for me. She seems to realize she has said something she shouldn't have. She gives me an awkward smile and quickly goes to the kitchen to help. I stare at the toys that I carefully wipe clean every day. I know that fast-food place. Last summer, when I stay with Dad and Mom in the city, we pass by it and I tell Mom I want to try it. She tells me fried food is unhealthy and the restaurant is too expensive. She says the money is better spent buying me toys instead. At the time, I think Mom must really love me. But if every one of these toys comes from a kids' meal that someone has already eaten, then I can't help wondering. Who is the child she really loves?

After leaving Serena Hart, I married the daughter of a billionaire. Just now, my wife told me she wanted to transfer every asset in her name to me. I tried to refuse, but she meant it too sincerely for me to keep refusing. She said that without me, she never could have held such a vast family empire together. She wanted me to be able to hold my head up, so she even arranged for the asset transfer to be handled in Ashford, the city where I was born. With no other choice, I walked into the largest law firm in Ashford. I had just started to give the name on my appointment when a familiar mocking voice sounded behind me. "Well, if it isn't Adrian Cole, the guy who used to chase our campus queen Serena Hart around like his life depended on it."

My adoptive mother's name is Esther Garcia. On New Year's Eve, she led five-year-old me out of the orphanage and named me Bowie Easton. "Bowie, your older brother is named Bruce Easton. Your birthday falls on January 1st, New Year's Day, which symbolizes a new beginning. So, make a wish every year on your birthday. Making a wish means a fresh start. It's full of hope," she said. I nodded vigorously, my teeth chattering from the cold. Back then, I didn't understand that every time I made a wish, Esther would take something from my body. At six, I wished to see fireworks. She took my bone marrow. At seven, I wished for a Transformer. She took one of my kidneys. At eight, I wished for cake. She removed a lobe of my liver. I'm ten years old now. Esther looks at me gently in the candlelight. "Bowie, make a wish," she says. In the flickering candlelight, I close my eyes. This year, I have only one wish. I hope I can make it through this year.

The night before my flight home, my online dating partner texted me: [Tomorrow is our first anniversary. Shall we meet in person?] The moment that message appeared, the group chat filled with rich heiresses of the city that I had secretly snuck in exploded. [Congratulations, Wren! You’re at the last stage of your plan for revenge!!] Before I realized what was going on, a photo of me in my orientation days appeared in the chat. I was 340 pounds in the photo, my facial features were all squashed together, and my entire body was swollen beyond belief. “Whoa, Wren actually dated this piggy for one whole year all to seek revenge for Sean. Wren really loves Sean so much!” The group chat started betting on whether I would kneel and beg Wren not to break up with me when I see her in person tomorrow. Wren texted everyone: [I bet five million dollars that John Jackson will kneel and apologize to Sean for my sake.] The other members of the group chat started placing their bets as well; 500,000 dollars, one million dollars, 1.5 million dollars. Sean’s profile picture appeared, and he texted: [Don't be like this. He’s my older brother, after all. Although he stole my opportunity to go overseas, I’ve gotten used to it since we were young. Don’t go overboard today, just enough to make him regretful.] Looking at all the messages expressing their heartache over Sean, I tightened my grip over my phone.

I've always had naturally low energy, so growing up, I basically treated myself like I was a corpse. While other kids are learning to talk and walk, I'm busy figuring out how to keep my body temperature low and my heart rate down. In a game of hide-and-seek at preschool, my classmate locks me in a cabinet. I'm fine being alive or dead, so I just hold my breath and wait for death to take me. I even thoughtfully arrange myself like I'm on a slab in the morgue. When he finally opens the door and sees me looking dead, he bursts into tears and wets himself, saying he's killed somebody. Later on, a human trafficker spots me on the street. The second his hand clamps over my mouth, I slip right into character, not even bothering to focus my eyes. He scoops me up, runs to the ER so hard that he's practically flying, and has a breakdown. He yells, "I had nothing to do with this! He was dead when I found him!" When I turn 18, my ultra-rich biological parents finally come to take me home. I'm not exactly eager to move, but once I hear that I won't even have to roll over in bed by myself at their home, I reluctantly agree to go with them. The moment I step through the door, there's trouble. Ethan Ziegler, the fake heir, slips, and the bowl of soup in his hand flies straight for my face—he wants to see me make a fool of myself. Dodging sounds way too hard on my lower back, so I let him drench me from head to toe and just go down like a felled tree. The room goes dead silent. Then my elder sister, Felicia Ziegler, rushes over and holds her finger under my nose. Her face turns pale, and she collapses onto the floor. "H-He… he's not breathing!"

The entire school thought I was the school belle Wanda Stewart's biggest simp. I would send her breakfast during her morning run. I would offer her a towel and water during her matches. I would buy her pancakes from three streets away in the bitter cold just because she said she was hungry in the middle of the night. The boys in school who liked her could form a line from the mathematics department to the field. The look in their eyes changed from disdain to hatred. "He hasn't managed to pursue her even after all that simping. He really can take things in his stride." "Wanda is just good-natured. That's why she hasn't called the police." When the school hunk, Connor Graham, decided to publicly confess to Wanda, I became his greatest eyesore. While Wanda was out of school for a match, Connor came to me with his gang from the student council, kicking away the breakfast I bought for myself. Hot milk spilled all over me. He arched a brow and said with zero sincerity in his voice, "I'm sorry. I thought it was yet another bunch of trash you prepared for Wanda." With that, he pulled his phone out and flashed a remark that Wanda had made about me on the screen in the classroom. [A pain in the neck.] The entire class burst out laughing. Connor looked at me, clearly pleased. "See that? She finds you annoying. A man like you, stalking a girl all day, washing her clothes and sending her food... Don't you feel so cheap doing that?" Horace Jones, who stood behind him, chuckled. Connor smacked a letter of guarantee on my chest. [I willingly give up pursuing Wanda Stewart and will never send her food or water, follow her around, or pester her again.] "You can choose not to sign it." He waved his phone, a threatening smile on his face. "I'll just post a photo of you stealing Wanda's undergarment on the school's social media page." I looked at the photo of the white tank top I was keeping on the balcony of my own house and fell into deep thought. Wait. Since when did helping my sister with her laundry count as stealing?

My name is Mitchell Chandler, and my wife is Renata Pritchard. On our fifth wedding anniversary, Renata carefully puts together a grand fireworks display. It's for her first love, Samuel Harlow, who has just returned to the country. Under the fireworks, they embrace and kiss. It's a picture-perfect scene. Captured by a famous photographer, the moment makes its way to today's photography exhibition, taking home the gold award. In the audience, Renata's best friend, Vivian Rhodes, turns to me with a grin and asks, "The photo turned out amazing, didn't it? Samuel and Renata really look like a match made in heaven—unlike losers who have to live off their wives. Don't you think so?" I reply calmly, "Yeah, it's pretty good. After all, I'm the one who took the picture."

Dad is my homeroom teacher. He loves using me to assert his authority. He firmly believes that the more I suffer, the more the other students will fear him, which, in turn, gives him more authority. When I help my classmate pass an eraser to their friend, Dad slaps me in front of everyone until my face is swollen. When I sneak a bite of my friend's leftover chips after class is over, he drags me to the podium and pokes my lips with needles until I'm bleeding profusely. Later, the school's head of discipline, Mary Milner, catches a pair of students dating on school grounds. Dad insists that I'm one of the culprits. He doesn't even give me a chance to defend myself and drags me to the hallway and strips me of my clothes. He then heads to Mary's office and says with a smile, "My apologies, Ms. Milner. It's my fault for failing to raise Zack properly. Don't worry. I'll definitely teach him a lesson he won't forget this time!" Mary frowns and asks, "Zack Curtis? He's not involved in this dating incident." Dad is briefly stunned before he nonchalantly says, "It doesn't matter. I'll still punish him as a warning to the others. Besides, Zack always breaks the rules. He has already received countless punishments. What's one more?" However, Dad doesn't know that every time he punishes me, I secretly deduct a point from him in my heart. I've already deducted a total of 100 points. I make my way to the hallway on the sixth floor and jump out of the window without hesitation. I wonder if my death will be enough to assert Dad's authority.

As a man, if I had one fatal flaw, it would be that I cared a lot about my pride. When I fell off my bike as a kid, I'd get right back up on my feet immediately, wincing through the pain while acting completely fine, terrified that someone might laugh at me. Whenever my mom hired a cleaner to clean the house, I'd spend two hours beforehand sweating bullets scrubbing the place down myself, terrified the maid would see a messy house and laugh at me. Once I started school, it got even worse. If someone else took one advanced tutoring class, I'd sign up for eight. During the day, I'd brag that I never opened a textbook, but at night, I'd secretly grind until dawn—and I was top in my grade every single time. There was no helping it; I was just terrified of getting bad grades and being laughed at. When high school graduation rolled around, I saw all my friends start dating. So, I bit the bullet, asked out the prettiest, smartest girl in our class, and managed to win her over. After all, if my partner turned out to be ugly or dumb, people would laugh at me. Later on, we both got accepted into the same university. However, not long after the semester started, she began getting closer and closer to the popular guy in our school. Whenever people teased them about being a couple, she would neither confirm nor deny it. She would merely smile. "Stop teasing us, guys. Jonas hasn't said anything about it yet." That very night, I broke up with her.

I have pica. I have had a compulsion to eat hair for as long as I can remember. Whenever I feel strands of hair tugging inside my stomach, I feel strangely calm. I look at my thin wrists and the sharp outline of my ribs, and I feel proud. Sometimes Mom cries and asks why I became like this. Seeing her hurt because of me fills me with satisfaction. Dad runs himself ragged trying to get me appointments with specialists, his hair turning completely gray from the strain. And somehow, that makes me feel happy too. My therapist asks whether there is some knot inside me I can't untie. I shake my head and say that my parents have always favored and spoiled me. How could there be a knot? It isn't until Mom completely breaks down in the consultation room that the truth begins to surface. She drops to her knees in front of me, presses her forehead to the floor, and sobs. "Please forgive us. Please stop doing this to yourself, okay?"

On the day of the wedding, I wake up at four in the morning, waiting for the stylist and the cars that are supposed to take me to the venue. But seven o'clock comes, and no one shows up. Panicking, I call my childhood friend, Heath Zeller. His laughter comes through the phone. "Julian, how can you be this careless? We were told last minute that the cars aren't going to pick you up today. Everyone went straight to the hotel instead." I grab my custom-made wedding suit and rush to the hotel. By the time I arrive, drenched in sweat, the place is completely empty. Just then, Heath calls again. "I was just messing with you," he says, barely able to hold back his laughter. "You didn't actually run all the way to the hotel, did you? "Destination weddings are all the rage now. We moved the wedding to Isla Verde ages ago. Everyone's waiting for you at the airport." I drag my heavy garment bag from one terminal to another. But no matter how thoroughly I search the departure hall, I can't find a single one of them. Then Heath sends me a video, laughing so hard he can barely stand. "You're too slow! We've already left. There was never a destination wedding. We just wanted to spend a week on Isla Verde. We'll throw you the wedding when we get back." The camera shifts. My fiancee, Lydia Bennett, is pulling his suitcase for him. My parents stand behind them, grinning even more happily than they did in our family photos. When Mom sees how pale I look, she frowns instead. "It's just a joke. Why are you taking it so seriously? Heath is so much more fun than you. You've always been so dull, even as a kid. You take everything too seriously." Lydia hands Heath his coat before finally turning toward the camera. "Go home and wait for me, okay?" she says. "I'll marry you when I get back." Looking at all those smiling faces on the screen, I suddenly realize that even confronting them is pointless. I'm not angry or heartbroken. I'm simply numb. I pick up my phone and message the wedding planner to cancel everything. From this moment on, I'm done playing along with their lies.

For seven years, I've been dating Celeste Monroe, a CEO who never keeps her promises. Every time we make plans, she's either late or doesn't show up at all. The first time, her newly hired male assistant, Grady Keller, lost an important contract. I waited at the restaurant until closing, had my food reheated three times, and never heard a word from her. The second time, Grady called to say he was lost. Celeste was already downstairs when she got the call, but I sat through the entire movie without ever seeing her. After that, whenever Celeste and I had plans alone, Grady would suddenly have some kind of emergency. She would disappear without a word, then laugh it off afterward and promise she'd make it up to me next time. Then came the day I planned to propose. Once again, she vanished without warning. But this time, I didn't wait. I boarded a ferry to another country. That was when she started flooding my phone with messages, desperately begging me to forgive her.