Actually Good Novels & Stories

"Forget it, I'll marry him!" The moment Margot Johanson said those words, she suddenly felt a sense of relief. She could hear her parents' voices full of smiles in her ears. "Gigi, we’re glad you’ve made up your mind. Your fiancé may be in a coma, but he’s quite handsome.  “Although he’s been out for years, what if he wakes up? After all, he’s the one set to inherit the family business..." Her parents, trying to persuade their own daughter to marry a comatose man, actually thought she was getting the better deal.  They seemed convinced that no one else in the world would be foolish enough to take on such a situation.  Margot smiled bitterly. "Don’t worry. Since I’ve made up my mind to marry, I won’t back out. I won’t let your precious Maisie take my place."

My nanny, Lucci Eyre, liked to call herself an independent, modern woman. She used to tell me every day to be self-reliant, do my own laundry and cooking, take care of the kids by myself, and even suggested that I divorce my husband. Later on, I found out that she was actually a social media influencer. Without asking for my permission, she made a series of videos trying to make me look pathetic as a Stepford wife. She also stole my jewelry and clothes. After I fired her, she accused me in the live stream of being a rival female competitor and pandering to men. Then one of her crazy fans tricked her way into my home and poisoned me. When I woke up again, I was reborn to the day I discovered that her social media account had millions of followers. ‘Since you're so into live streaming and making short videos, why not show everyone who you really are and let them see the independent woman that you are?’

Having been in a two-year long-distance relationship with my girlfriend, Kayleigh Richards, I finally have time to visit her family for the holidays. In doing so, I want to hash out the details of our upcoming wedding as well. What I didn't expect is that Kayleigh would actually show up with a hooligan at the banquet. She even goes as far as to terminate our engagement in front of everyone. The hooligan, Gerald Shaw, looks at me haughtily. A trace of mockery can be seen in his eyes when he notices how wretched I look. "What makes you think you can fight with me over my woman? Kay, how the heck did you even fall for this wretched-looking beggar in the first place? He's even carrying an old sack with him! Don't tell me he just came back from collecting the trash!" All of Kayleigh's relatives who are present at the banquet roar in laughter. My future mother-in-law even shoves me in an attempt to kick me out. I merely gaze at Kayleigh calmly. "Are you sure you want to choose him?" Kayleigh sneers at me in return. "You're just a stupid miner! Gerald's dad is the owner of the gold mine, you know!" I raise an eyebrow at her words. Then, I open the woven sack I've brought with me. The gold bricks that scatter from the sack shine brightly under the light. "Oh? I have no idea that my gold mine has somehow become someone else's property."

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.

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 unblock you 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.

When Dexter Welch, a security guard who works in the residential area, sees me driving my pink Toyota Corolla everywhere, he's very certain that I'm a sugar baby who's being backed by her own sugar daddy. On the first day, I see one word getting carved into the car hood. It says "bitch". I merely give the hood a wipedown without uttering a word. Later on, I swap out the current SD card of my dashcam to an SD card that has a 512 GB memory. On the second day, my car windows get smashed in. When I go over to the property management office to check the security footage, the front desk agent tells me that the security camera overseeing my car "happens" to be broken. Dexter leans against the desk with a grin on his face. "If that car of yours is ruined, then so be it. Tell your sugar daddy to buy you another one." I crouch down and take a picture of the damage. Then, I save it into a folder called "evidence" in my phone. On the third day, two of my tires have gone flat. When I bend down to pick up a spare tire, Dexter hugs me from behind all of a sudden. He murmurs into my ear, "What's so good about sleeping with an old codger? Why don't you date me instead? I'm young and strong—" That's when I grab a wrench and smash it right into his arm. As Dexter nurses his injured arm, he glares at me. "How dare you lay a finger on me! Go ahead and lodge a report, then! My uncle's the property manager here! What can you do about me, hmm?" I silently note down Dexter's work ID without saying anything. On the fourth day, I drive another pink car back to the apartment. As soon as Dexter notices the flash of pink in its usual parking slot, he smiles as he exits the guardhouse. Then, he pulls out a key from his pocket and scratches my car with all his strength. An older gentleman who happens to be walking his dog nearby freezes in his tracks. He sounds so startled that his voice actually cracks. "Have you gone nuts? Do you know the model of the car you've just scratched? That's a top-tier Rolls-Royce!"

I donated 45 million to the city's best kindergarten, but my daughter failed the enrollment interview. She was a polymath. Furious, I demanded an explanation from admissions. She hurled an assessment file at my face. "Your daughter's brilliant, but you're the exact opposite! You're dead last among the parents!" She continued, "The others have tech domes! You're nothing but a regular Ivy League graduate! Your degree's worth about as much as toilet paper!" The other teachers laughed as well. "If we admit her daughter, it's going to look bad on the other kids. She can't take that responsibility." "Yeah, I can't believe she's demanding an explanation from Ms. Johnson. Her husband is the kindergarten's biggest stakeholder. He can make sure her daughter has nowhere to go." The admission teacher shoved me away. With disdain in her eyes, she said, "Out of my sight if you know what's good for you. My husband is picking me up in his Rolls-Royce. His car plate alone is worth more than your life! It's lucky 777! Only one in Georgeport!" Three sevens? That was my husband's car. I laughed mirthlessly and texted my husband. "I had no idea you had another wife behind me."

By chance, I stumbled across a trending post from our company's finance department while scrolling through social media. "That idiot in Sales. I just wanted to put my bar receipt under his name for reimbursement and he refused! If he won't let me claim it, then no one gets reimbursed! This time I'll make sure he learns what happens when you offend Finance!" The comments section was full of complaints and criticism, but the original poster didn't seem bothered in the slightest. The tone was arrogant, almost smug. "What's there to be scared of? Finance is the lifeline of any company! Would the boss really risk offending the backbone of the company over some replaceable sales guy? No way that's ever happening!" I stared at the all-too-familiar face in the profile picture and let out a silent, cold laugh. Blocking my reimbursement? Fine. This time, I'd like to see for myself what would actually happen if I mess with Finance.

When I visit my girlfriend's house during the Christmas holidays, her cousin, Antonio Esposito, humiliates me in front of everyone because of a scar on the back of my hand. "This scar looks like a remnant of the crossfire with the mafia! Bianca, why did you think that bringing an ex-convict home was a good idea?" The entire Romano family stares at me in a mixture of horror and shock. My girlfriend, Bianco Romano, even shakes my hand off while staring at me in disgust. Not only does Antonio flip the table, but he also calls over a few hooligans in an attempt to take me to the local police station. "We must teach scumbags like him a lesson!" he declares. After that, Antonio and the hooligans strip off my jacket and strap me to the tree in the courtyard. They then attempt to force me to admit that I'm working for the mafia. I can only gnash my teeth together stubbornly, refusing to yield no matter what. What they don't know is that the scar is a medal from my time in a peacekeeping war as a soldier!

While I was eating, I came across a post on X. [Found out my girlfriend has a nasty disease and is pregnant. I want my buddy to be the one left holding the bag. What should I do?] I was just about to comment that the poster was out of his mind when I scrolled down and realized people were actually giving him advice. [That's easy! If you two are close, just invite him on a trip.] [Get your girlfriend and your buddy drunk in the middle of the night, then have them stay in your buddy's room. When the time comes, catch them in the act. You can break up and push the kid onto your buddy to take responsibility…] Reading that comment, I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. I was about to show my friend this mind-blowing post so we could rant about it together when he suddenly looked up at me and asked, "Tyler, are you free this weekend? How about we go on a trip?"