Dark Deception Joy Joy Gang Novels & Stories

“We bribed the security guard when he went out to get something. Gave him fifty bucks and a pack of cigarettes.” I let out a low laugh, shaking my head. “Finally, something to burn the humiliation away.” Without hesitation, I grabbed the first glass, some kind of cocktail that burned its way down my throat but felt like relief. I finished it and poured another. The buzz hit quickly. I could already feel it softening the edges of my embarrassment, numbing the sting that Mr Hale’s rejection had left behind. I leaned against the counter, trying to disappear into the music when someone’s shadow blocked the light.

“Sometimes what we see isn’t really what it looks like; there’s more behind the scenes.” “Today we gather once again to celebrate the legacy of my family. We have won the best battles together, and of course, we are a force to be reckoned with. I stand proud to announce the success of the latest achievement by my oldest son, Caspian Blackwood!” Mr. Blackwood announced, and the hall echoed with a round of applause. His wife, Georgia, smiled as he placed a kiss on her forehead. They looked so happy, and I loved it.

Andy also looked like he might need to dive for the garbage can sometime this morning if his hangover headache didn't let up. "If you try and say that again, I'll slap you with a slander complaint so fast you won't even realize you're fired until you're back wherever you go at night and you're crying into a tub of chunky monkey ice cream because you've got nothing," Joy said. "Whatever," Sabrina deadpanned. You were about to say something else, and you were somewhat glad that Gemma coming back distracted you. She entered the room, her own happy smile faltering and turning sour as she saw Joy had arrived for the day.

I cheered just before he sprinted to the door, making me laugh. Yeah, it's been our routine since then; Alex, waking me up when he gets up, and takes a shower, then dress up. After that, he'll choose what we're going to eat for breakfast, though I can't cook. That explains why he sprinted out. It's either hell wake Luciano up, or he'll force him to get up. Heaving a deep sigh, I make our bed as soon as I exited the bedroom. Where are their Dads you asked? Well, I just confirmed that Mr. Grayson is the owner of the G.G publishing company, and it's the second company with A.A publishing as the first. They are freaking billionaires, but I'm surprised they are bunches of kind people, especially

All I felt was my sister’s fiancé, my sister, and a few guys around our age gathering around me. Some whistled, others clapped, while the remaining half and their wives tried to look away from me but couldn’t. I felt like I was inside a bar, so I started crying silently, remembering my suffering there, swaying to the rhythm of the song while my eyes secretly shed pain. I screamed at the top of my lungs and repeated part of it with vulgar excitement. “A ella le gusta la gasolina, dame mas gasolina.” The music suddenly died out, leaving me no choice but to open my tearful eyes inside the pitch darkness. I couldn’t see anything except the sky sending down a little light to guide my way down.

Perfect hazel eyes. And that look. “Yes, you have been a good girl, and I am proud of you,” I murmur roughly. “But a college party is the definition of trouble, Gabriella.” I hear the slight hitch in her breath, and I feel my groin tighten. Fuck. “I just got my friends back.” Her voice is soft. Breathy. “I don’t want to miss this.” So my suspicions are confirmed. There’s something toxic happening in that little friend group. “Please?” She pouts, and fuck me, I melt completely.

He turned around and got into his car, I was left with a frown, I don't like puns, I don't like having to decipher what other people are saying, it feels like a damn maze where it's hard to escape, I inhaled and exhaled, and continued. When I was about to cross, I didn't know about me, everything went black, everything ceased to exist...but what the fuck just happened to me? AZAEL BLACKWELL. The plan came out much more hurriedly than I had planned, my anxiety shot from a ten to a thousand, and I couldn't stand the pressure of having her away from my arms, and now that I see her there unconscious on the plane seat, it all seems so damn crazy.

It was almost funny. The woman sitting on the ground her, head in some man’s lap suddenly laughed loudly, making me curious and I looked up for a second. Her brown skin glowed in the candlelight, almost giving her skin a golden shimmer. She was by far the most interesting figure in this group. Her name was Moira, I believe. She often spoke up or giggled away as some gossip was shared and kissed her lover a lot. If it wasn’t on his lips it was on other body parts, clearly not afraid to show affection in public.

“I'm sorry, man. For everything. But if you ever get to see her again, what are you gonna do?“ Arthur looked out the window again. The car had come to a halt. A few blocks away was the nightclub. He turned back to Richard with a sad smile. “I'll hold onto her and never let go. That's how much I still love her. They arrived at the nightclub minutes later, cloaking their melancholic mood with a slice of ecstasy. Richard felt a surge of excitement, as he moved his body to the rhythm of the beat that reverberated in the building. He tapped Arthur's shoulder in laughter,“Man, it's good to be home.“ Arthur puffed and chuckled at his silliness. “Make yourself at home then.“ “I plan on. Hey, man, ju

“Hello! I’m Neo. I compose EDM and I like computer games too. I’m (almost) unbeatable on StarCraft. Even though I’m not the maknae, I’m the one who cooks a big pan of kimchi-bokkeum for the group’s secret late-night snacks.” “Hi, guys! Jared’s the name and rapping is my game. I’m a fitness geek, as you can tell from my figure. And just for the record, I’ve never taken part in any unhealthy midnight snack session. I’m actually the dietician of the group.” “Don’t believe him,” Neo says. “He’s the ringleader.” Laughter ripples through the studio audience. “So,” the host says, “DMG. Not DMZ. What does it mean?”