500 Word Story

คณะสถาปัตยกรรมศาสตร์ “รินทำไม่ได้เลย รินไม่เข้าใจ” หญิงสาวเอ่ยงอแงเมื่อเธอไม่สามารถทำตามในงานที่อาจารย์สั่งให้ทำส่งในศุกร์นี้ได้ “ไหนขอพี่ดูหน่อย” ลีวายเอ่ย พรางหยิบงานที่ฟารินงอแงไม่ยอมทำ “พี่ลีวาย ทำให้รินหน่อยนะๆๆ” “ถ้าพี่ทำให้ อาจารย์ก็รู้ซิครับ” ลีวายเอ่ย “อาจารย์จะรู้ได้ยังไงคะ เรารู้กันสองคน”ฟารินเอ่ย “พี่อยู่ปี3 ทำงานส่งอาจารย์จนอาจารย์จำลายเส้นได้หมดแล้วครับ แล้วน้องปีหนึ่งแบบน้องฟารินเนี้ย จะใช้ลายเส้นพี่ปี3ไปส่ง จะรอดได้ยังงไง” “แต่รินทำไม่ได้นี่คะ….” “เฮ้อ งอแงแบบนี่แล้วพี่จะทำยังไง”ลีวายเอ่ย “ไม่รู้ค่ะ” “งอแงไม่เข้าเรื่องเลยเรา” ปากบ่น แต่มือก็ยังคงเริ่มร่างงานที่ฟารินบอกทำไม่ได้ “พี่ลีวายใจดีจัง” “ใจดีแบบนี้ ให้พี่เป็นแฟนได้หรือยังละครับ” “คะ!!….” “เอากลับไปคิดดูก่อนก็ได้” ลีวายเอ่ย

เลย์ ... ชายหนุ่มสายบันเทิงเริงสวาทสุดเจ้าชู้ หนุ่มหล่อผู้ชอบเซ็กส์สายสวิงเป็นชีวิต จนทำให้ในทุกๆวันของชีวิต อยู่บนเตียงกับหญิงสาวและดื่มเหล้าซะส่วนใหญ่ การที่จะมีเซ็กส์กับผู้หญิงแค่คนเดียว ถือเป็นเรื่องที่เป็นไปไม่ได้สำหรับเขา “คิดว่าพี่หยุดได้แบบนั้นเหรอ? คิดผิดหรือเปล่า” เลย์เอ่ย “พี่เลย์...” “พี่ไม่อยากมีปัญหากับพี่ชายเธอหรอกนะ” เลย์เอ่ย “หนูจะไม่บอกใครก็ได้ค่ะ..” “หึ!!!”

Serena Collins bekerja di sebuah perusahaan ternama di London. Hidupnya terasa sempurna, apalagi ia memiliki kekasih bernama Ethan. Namun, segalanya hancur ketika Serena mendapati penghianatan Ethan dengan kakak tirinya sendiri. Di tengah kepedihan itu, Serena justru terjerat dalam sebuah perjanjian dengan Steave Alexander, Presdir karismatik sekaligus paman Ethan. Awalnya hanya demi keuntungan masing-masing, tapi perlahan muncul hasrat yang tak terbendung di antara mereka. Mampukah Serena bertahan menghadapi permainan hati yang penuh resiko, atau justru menemukan cinta sejatinya di tempat yang tak terduga?

I was the son of the wealthiest man in Capital City, but I had never enjoyed the flattery and fake smiles that came with that title. All I had ever wanted was a normal life. Now that I was pushing twenty-eight and still single, my mom finally lost her patience. She gave me an ultimatum: go on a blind date or she’d disown me. On my way to the date, I passed by a luxury boutique and spotted a watch that immediately caught my eye. I was just about to pay for it when, out of nowhere, a man barged in from behind and slapped a black card down on the counter. “I’ll take this watch. Wrap it up for me,” he said. I stayed calm and said politely, “Sir, I saw this watch first.” However, he just scoffed and snapped back, full of arrogance, “A broke nobody like you can look but not afford it. Get lost. I’m the assistant to Ms. Jackson, the CEO of Jackson Group. In this city, if I want something, no one will fight me for it.” Ms. Jackson? Isn’t that the exact woman I was supposed to be meeting for the blind date? Without another word, I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. “Selena,” I said calmly, “do you know your assistant is out here throwing your name around to bully people?”

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

My son was caught in a car accident. My husband said that without a cornea donor, he would be trapped in darkness forever. Heartbroken, I let him sweet-talk me into signing away my corneas. Blind, I overheard my son gloating, "Dad, the plan worked. Mom fell for it, and Rachel's got her sight back. She won't be miserable anymore." "Yeah, now we're a real family with her," replied my husband. The truth gutted me. They'd played me like a fool to save my husband's old flame. When I confronted them, Rachel Huffman shoved me down a staircase, and I died in agony. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my son's car accident.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

The night before our wedding, my Alpha, Charlie, was attacked by rogue wolves on his way to pick up my wedding dress. He survived, but the doctor diagnosed him with severe PTSD and no memory of me. Any mention of our wedding made him collapse. Around the same time, I found out I was pregnant. "Perhaps the child’s arrival might awaken the part of him that truly loves you," the doctor said. I clung to that hope，until I overheard them at the pack training grounds. "Faking PTSD to dodge the wedding? Damn, Charlie, that’s next-level." One of his brothers laughed. "You really pulled it off, man. Playing the tragic Alpha just to shake off that boring little fiancée? Genius." "Shut up!" Charlie snapped, but there was no real anger in his tone. "I love Eve. I’m only lying to her this once. Let me have my fun at The Velvet Bite a little longer, and then I’ll marry her." "Especially her cousin, Lisa," another voice jeered. "Damn, Charlie—a brothel and the fiancée’s family? That’s low, even for you." Charlie chuckled. "You don’t get it. Those women… I can’t live without that feeling. It’s addictive." My hands shook as I tore the ultrasound report into pieces. Without a word, I turned and walked away. That night, at the pack hospital, I made an appointment for an abortion.

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

After being missing for eighteen years, I was finally found by my wealthy birth parents. The impostor—the young man who had taken my place all this time—dropped to his knees, sobbing. "Goodbye, Mom and Dad. Thank you for raising me. Now that Jason is back, this family doesn't need me anymore." My parents hugged him with heartbreaking tenderness. "Don't be ridiculous," they said. "You're our only real son." Even my fiancée confessed her love to him. "I don't care who you really are. You're the only one I love." They all orbited around him, like planets around the sun. When I was nearly killed in a car accident, they were too busy throwing a birthday party for his dog. So I packed my things in silence. Without a word, I accepted an invitation from the space agency to join a five-year satellite research mission in complete isolation. Yet after I left, it was like the whole family lost their minds. They scoured the entire country, desperate to find any trace of me.