50/50 Reddit Challenge Novels & Stories

The new colleague at my company is a stingy mother. On her first day, she shows up with a huge pile of expired snacks that her son refused to eat and hands them out to everyone. Once we're done, she pulls out her PayPal and says, "These are all imported snacks for my son. I'll need 50 dollars from each of you." During a company team-building event, she refuses to participate, saying she has to go home to take care of her child. The day after, she comes over holding her phone and asks me for money. "I didn't eat with everyone yesterday. Since the company is footing the bill, just hand me the cash equivalent for my meal." Furious, I rejected her request immediately. What I fail to realize is that she would bear a grudge against me over it. One night, her son comes down with a high fever, so she calls me and requests a ride to the hospital using the company car. Once again, I refuse without a second thought. Because of the delay, her son suffers severe cognitive damage. She blames me for everything that happened. In a fit of rage, she ends up running me over with her car. As I open my eyes again, I find myself transported to her first day on the job.

My fiance, Simon Rossi, is a mafia Don with a reputation for brutality. He suddenly takes in an orphan girl and spoils her rotten. He names her Giara, saying she's pure, like a beam of light. But that is the name he has promised for our future daughter. He thinks he's hidden it well. But the night before our engagement party, I notice his cufflinks. The ruby ones I gave him are replaced with cheap plastic cartoon cats. I don't believe he's really cheating, so I abduct Giara to get answers without hurting her. Then Simon bursts in with his men. 50 people die, and three armories go up in flames. "Ivina Coleo, consider this a lesson. But don't worry. I'll send her away. Remember, this is the first time you touch her, and the last." But at the engagement party, Giara sits with Simon's parents, smiling right at me. The sight sparks a fury I can't control. I lunge forward, determined to send her away myself. Simon tells Giara to leave, coaxing me through the ceremony. But that night, he binds my limbs with stones and sinks me into the sea. "I told you that was the last time." Cold water fills my lungs. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I first abducted Giara. This time, I don't want Simon or the wedding anymore.

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

Fresh out of college, Clara Stewart asked me to take on a $500,000 mortgage for her. When I refused, she turned around and bought an $800,000 villa in full, for another guy. Holding up the property deed, she told me: "Jayden, the truth is, I'm actually rich. I've been pretending to be poor to test you. Unfortunately, you failed. I'm disappointed in you. Let's break up." I simply smiled and walked away without a second thought. The irony? I'm the son of the richest man in the country. I was pretending to be broke, too. Fast forward four years, we met again at the National Wealth Summit. Clara had just barely made it into the top 50 on the list, clinging to the arm of Henry Brown as they entered. She spotted me in simple clothes with no visible brand, holding a child in one arm and the keys to a Porsche Cayenne in the other. Thinking I was someone's driver, she sneered: "Jayden, you really went all out just to see me again? Let's be real, you're just a driver now, and I'm on the wealth list. We live in completely different worlds. Don't waste your time fantasizing." I did not bother replying. Honestly, I was only there because my billionaire dad insisted. I had finally cleared a day to spend with my son and now I had to waste it on that.

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll add you back next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

My boyfriend thought I was too fat at 121 pounds. I signed up for a gym and started working out like crazy, but the more I tried to lose weight, the more I gained. Meanwhile, my best friend, Chloe Woods, was doing late-night eating streams every single day, stuffing herself with steaks, seafood, and greasy takeout. Not only did she not gain weight, she dropped from 154 pounds to 143. When my boyfriend started tearing into me even worse than before, I suddenly heard the tabby cat’s voice in my head. “You idiot. Chloe’s got you trapped in a weight-swap system. “No matter how hard you try to lose weight, she’s the one getting thinner. Every pound you lose is a pound she drops. She’s trying to ruin you.” I froze and turned to look at my best friend, Chloe. She was staring at my boyfriend without even trying to hide it, her eyes full of admiration. Then the tabby’s voice exploded in my ears again. “Chloe is obsessed with that trashy loser. Once she gets skinny, the two of them will hook up. Then they'll team up to get you killed and spend your settlement money living a happy life.” The moment I learned the truth, I smiled. Since my so-called best friend wanted to be skinny that badly, if I made her whole body weigh less than 50 pounds, she’d probably be very grateful to me, right?

When I go home for the holidays, I find out that my dad has installed a facial recognition machine at the front door. "You'll have to pay an entry fee of 50 thousand dollars. Will you be paying by card or payment code?" I thought my dad was joking at first. As I laugh, I attempt to walk through the front door while pushing my luggage forward. But my mom passes me a price list with an icy look. "That'll be 200 dollars for dragging stuff across the floor. You'll also be charged 1,000 dollars per hour for using up the air." I'm stunned by her words. "Mom, stop messing around already!" But when I walk into the house, I realize that the air inside has disappeared. Unable to breathe, my face soon turns bright red out of suffocation as I kneel down on the floor. My mom huffs coldly again. "If you want to live, then pay up!" With great difficulty, I dig out my phone and pay the fees. Once the transaction is done, I can feel air rushing through my nostrils and into my lungs. For a few moments, I pant heavily. As I stare at my cold-looking parents, I finally feel that something is off. So, I scramble up to my feet and rush for the door. But that's when I find out that the front door is already welded shut. There's a payment code pasted on the door as well as a message. "Exit fee. One million dollars."

---> if you are interested in my work, please check out my novel The Starving Vulture. Available on Amazon, $3.99 for the Ebook and $14.95 for the Paperback https://www.amazon.com/Starving-Vulture-Miguel-Monta%C3%B1a/dp/1951150899<---------The Pacific Capital. A product of an altered world, the legacy of the dead Philippine nation. A congested megacity holding 50 million people all huddled in what was once Metro Manila. It is the center for Pacific Maritime Trade, the world's largest Tax Haven and one of the few places in the world free from the Draconian but necessary environmental laws that saved the world since Cometfall. Ruled by Megacorporations, Corrupt Politicians, Invested Nobility and Criminals. It is one of the world's most important agricultural and pharmaceutical centers. H-6 is an Arbiter of the Court. As Judge Jury and Executioner, they maintain the essential Power Plant Canals and Massive weather controlled Dome Districts. Two elements that even the all powerful Megacorps need maximize their profits. Making Arbiter's Court the true rulers of the city. But even an all powerful Arbiter of the Court like H-6 knows, that Ambition and Greed will always find ways to ignore the rule of Law. Solus Valentine is a Security Consultant, plying her trade to anyone in need. She is a gun for hire who has the street smarts for the city's underworld. Whether in the gilded halls or the most flooded streets, she's ready for your contract. But while completing a contract, she stumbles into a vast conspiracy that just might threaten the city's fragile power balance, if not the world. She just might need an Arbiter's help for this one. One who might be someone from her past.

Kyla Adams is a workaholic. I mean, who wouldn't be when you're working your dream job? She is one of the many writers for a startup business in North Carolina called "Clicked," where the focus is writing about hot gossip, new trends, and out of the ordinary experiences. Think of this social media app as an online magazine, where the workers are gossip hungry millennials and Gen Z'ers all trying to top one another. And the best part- Dakota Kramer; the hot young CEO at the top floor of the office building. Kyla is the job. She thrives on gossip and is a phenomenal writer, but lately her articles have been dryer than her dating life. After Dakota threatens to fire her if she doesn't step out of her comfort zone, Kyla and her friends drunkenly email Dakota an exciting new article proposal titled "EleDATE." What does the hell does this mean? Kyla must ride the elevator every morning, starting from floor 1 up to floor 50-the top floor- with a hand picked single guy from the office. The catch? She's blindfolded. She must rely on her instincts about the "bachelors" and the impressions they make during their limited time riding together- and they must remain anonymous. With over 100 employees in the building, 50 floors, and 20 single men willing to participate, this will sure make for an intriguing article and a literal make or break career moment. And let's face it... there's just something about elevators.

My brother-in-law, Timmy Lynch, racks up 50 million dollars of illegal gambling debt but leaves my contact information behind. By the time the interest snowballs to 100 million dollars, the debt collectors show up at my doorstep. After I persuade them to leave, my wife, Celia Lynch, and my mother-in-law, Meryl Unwin, finally come out of the room. Celia's face is pale as she says, "Let's get divorced. I'd rather leave with nothing. Your gambling debts are your own problem, so don't even think about dragging me into this." No matter how many times I explain that it was Timmy who bet on an underdog team and lost, she refuses to believe me. Meryl even slaps me across the face and roars, "Not only are you trying to trick my daughter into paying your debt, but you're also slandering my son? Listen to me, Celia—divorce him immediately!" Then, she turns to me and says, "I might as well tell you the truth now. Celia is pregnant, and the baby's father is your buddy. Just give up already and sign the divorce papers." Wait, what? I literally just won a 100-million-dollar prize from winning a World Soccer Tournament bet last night. I was going to ask if they need help covering Timmy's debt. How did this suddenly turn into a full-on divorce? Fine, then. They can pay back his massive debt themselves.