Dark Comedy Novels & Stories

But I was more curious about the nonsense she said. "Uh we?" "Yes, Leah. We. As in me, you and half a dozen gold rum. What's the point of my best friend coming back home if we don't celebrate it, Davenport style." I could feel it. The amount of booze in that bag could do for this entire house. I felt drunk already but somehow I couldn't bring myself to care. *** "Uh, Hayley, I think you should slow down a bit." Half an hour in one of South France's hippest clubs and my best friend was already on her way to being shitfaced. I watch her gulp another shot of rum and white champagne. Or what we call "gold rum".

So many topics were created. #NancyExaggeratedWeddingMoney130KActually1300 #GroomKicksPregnantBrideCausingMiscarriage Some shot to the top of trending lists, racking up millions of discussions within just a few hours. Netizens were furious. [My god, I've really seen it all now. Even monsters can disguise themselves as people these days?] [This is ridiculous. Doesn't he know how much money his own family has? What kind of idiot is he?]

Then someone in the crowd sneered, their voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that must be Sophia's sugar daddy. Showed up to defend her. She's not picky, is she. She'll take a guy in his fifties." The crowd erupted. Some covered their mouths, laughing. Others joined in openly. "Yeah, I heard she doesn't care about age. Maybe this old man's a regular too." The dean's expression tightened. He turned sharply toward the crowd. "All of you–shut your mouths!" He glanced at my injuries, his voice urgent.

The room went dead quiet when I said I would take the prize, but that quiet did not last. A second later, laughter thundered through the air. Lily Smith was the loudest, doubling over with tears streaming from her eyes. "How else could she be the top seller?" she cackled. "A woman like her has to have skin as thick as a rhino." I ignored her snide comments and kept my cool. "Just to be clear," I said, "since the company so generously 'rewarded' me with bathroom duty, that's all I'll be doing for the next three days. Everything else is off my plate."

Will there ever be an end to it? "Can you move out of my way!" I say and look angry at them. Tired of this! I hear them chuckle and look between them. They are three men and all look a bit drunk, I guess they are around thirty, and by the looks of it, they are well-built. All I want is to get to away from here and to her apartment. "oh I like feisty women!" one of them says and anger boil under my skin. "And I hate disgusting men!" I spit at them and try to take a step to the side when the biggest one of them stands in my way with a disgusting smile on his face.

"I’m not really in the mood for that." He scowls. "Arabella, I swear to god, if you don’t come–" "I know what you’re trying to do, Dex." I chuckle. "And I appreciate it, but everyone seriously needs to stop acting like there’s something wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong. I’m okay." I’m really not okay. "Now go enjoy your time with Veronica and tell me all about it later." I wink before I point a finger at him. "Also, be careful at the movies. It’s easy to get caught. Now go." I giggle and attempt to slide back into the room, but I only manage to close the door halfway before Dex’s hand shoots out, and he slams his palm into it, stopping the movement.

“Now get over here and help me eat this food. And grab me a soda, would you?” I tossed her the remote. “Find something you want to watch.” “Just not a chick flick. I want something funny tonight. Something that’ll make us laugh so hard we’re scared of throwing our pizza back up.” I opened the fridge. “I hear Trevor Noah’s new standup is hysterical.” “Oh, Trevor Noah it is, then.”

Conversation flowed easy, favorite holiday movies, the pressure of expectations. At my apartment building, he parked, engine idling. "Want company for cocoa? I make a mean spiked version." I hesitated, then smiled. "Sure. Why not?" Inside, my small living room glowed from string lights on a modest tree. I brewed cocoa while he shrugged off his jacket, revealing a fitted Henley that clung to his muscled arms. We settled on the couch, mugs in hand, the alcohol warming us from within. Laughter turned intimate; he confessed the breakup had left him guarded, afraid of letting anyone see his softer side. "Firefighting's straightforward. Relationships? Messy."

“We spent crucial hours on the drive perfecting our agenda.” “He’s not serious,” Sidney laughed. “Oh, I’m very serious,” Wes countered. “We take horror film festivals very seriously. Can’t you tell from Sidney’s hangover?” “You’re hungover?” Adam tipped his sunglasses to look at Sidney. “A little,” she answered, glaring at Wes. “Conveniently for Sidney, we are beginning our day light, with a horror comedy. Nothing too heavy or traumatic until she recovers.” “Lead the way,” Sidney said.