01 A Novels & Stories

𝙰𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 7 years old. The brown-haired boy stood there looking at the woman helping her kids choose the toys they wanted. Ace didn't get help from her, he's shy, anxious that she's going to return the ten dollars teddy bear that he brought. His soft small hand clenched the ear of the brown teddy bear, he pouted and with a shaking body, he approached his mother.

Please inform them via the app. He sighed when reading it. He is tightening his jaws when the camera is facing his direction. “Hello everyone, I am Sam Ramos and for today; I am informing you all of you to be prepared for the upcoming first semester of 2021-2022.” He is smiling bitterly and his viewers are obviously curious what is behind those weary eyes and frowned expression. [I am paying my subscription for a frowning streamer!] [Why are you sad?] [Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?]

"Fuck off!" While Amanda is on the Libra side, Alex is a Cancer ♋. He is quite emotional and always looking for true love, Alex is very caring and can also be quiet naive. He loves cuddles, but also love his own personal space, though Alex lacked a little bit of confidence, this was why it took him years to get close to Martins and Stacey. He never really approached Ross to ask for a promotion, but it all ended well, because he was still given the promotion.

"I can't make these calls alone. They need your perspective." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll be there in thirty minutes." He arrived looking carefully neutral. We didn't hug or touch or do any of the intimate things we'd been doing before Wednesday's disaster. We just... existed in the same space professionally. The color corrections were the final piece of the campaign before full launch. Shadows and tones and emotional resonance translated through visual medium. Everything we'd built distilled into precise technical specifications.

Chapter 12: "A Divulge Vow," ───── ❝ R U B Y F R I D A Y ' S P O V ❞ ──── ║ Gregorian Calendar ║ 01 - 01 - 2027 ║ Friday ║ 1st Midnight ║

Annie's lips twirled up in a grin, "Or that." "I want to know more about you, Annie Halden," Leo leaned forward a bit, propping his elbows up on the table and resting his chin on his folded hands. "You're a mystery." Annie quirked an eyebrow, "What do you want to know, Leo Smith?" Leo grinned, "First kiss." Annie's eyebrows shot up. "Okay..." she shifted in her seat a little. "14, freshman year. I was volunteering at a summer camp for kids. One of the other volunteers, same age as me. His name was Frankie Fisker. Terrible kisser."

I shrug. “Okay, I like her.” she points to me and looks at Rhea. “I’m Veronica by the way. Veronica Ryan. Grade B.” “Grade?” I raise a brow, confused. “A Grade basically tells how dangerous a person is. And before you ask, the difference between A’s and B’s is that A’s have committed murder.” “But mine is asterisked?” “It’s never been given before but I’m guessing it means numerous counts of murder.” Yeah. That makes sense.

*Akin* The moment Caelan strode into the Oceanan camp to save us, I recognized his fighting style. There was a rhythm in the way he moved, in the stance he took. It was unmistakably Altinnian, the subtle weight shift, the way his fingers hovered near the hilt of his weapon, always prepared for the unexpected. It was something only someone trained for combat in Altinna would know, and I knew that we were saved. His rescue mission was, obviously, a complete success.

It's the middle of the night and that means this call is most likely coming in from one person. Desmond. I lift my hand, getting everyone's attention, and motion for them to quiet down. Then I steel myself before swiping the bar over and hitting the speaker button. "Desmond," I answer in my coolest voice. "It's time we come to an agreement about our current situation."

Follow instructions once inside. I checked in at the security booth, got a temporary pass and the house key. The guard verified my order before letting me in. I turned on my phone’s audio recorder right away—better safe than sorry, especially in a wealthy community with strict rules. I didn’t want trouble over a simple errand.