Does Fiction Mean Real Or Fake Novels & Stories

Leaving personal matters within, I shot back, "You are living your life your way, aren't you? Then why can't I? Stop interfering in my personal life." Damien uttered glaring at me, "Don’t you dare to question my life, Ms. McBride. By any chance, if you are telling me to be loyal to you because you are my fiancee then put a thing in your mind that YOU are my fake fiancee. Fake. And I don’t have the useless wish to interfere in your so-called personal life. But unlike you, I have a reputation that will get hampered if you continue falling into a stranger's arms like last night. I won't like the news about my fiancee stepping out from a stranger's place in the early morning or roaming with some

he replied simply, adjusting his glasses. I rolled my eyes. “You need help. Here—” I reached for one of the novels from the table beside me, one that was light and funny. “Try reading something that won’t make your brain combust.” He raised an eyebrow. “Fiction?” “Yes, fiction,” I said, placing it in his hand. “You know, made-up stories with emotions, imagination, and people who do ridiculous things for love?” He opened the first page, his expression unreadable. For the next few minutes, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the rustle of turning pages. Then, suddenly—

"You are sick, Aria; you are sick for thinking everything is a fairytale, as you make your forty million followers think." There is a word called fiction, a world where nothing is real... Emotions are fake, and just because I write about the fake world doesn't mean I expect him to be like the male lead of my novel. "It's all fiction, Caleb. Everything I wrote was fiction, and as a human I have every f*ck*ng right to fantasise, so don't blame your betrayal on my books." "And you dare blame this on my womb?" This was the height of it; I took off the wedding ring from my fingers and held it tightly... I couldn't bring myself to return it.

“Wow.” “What?” “It's just,” I shook my head, “surreal. I have read and watched all of your existence, but they are very very certain to let us know that you guys are all fake and just fiction,” I wheezed. “Please, fiction,” she rolled her eyes. “Like humans could ever think of something so great. Seriously, most of the ideas come from higher demons that you know, either made a deal with a human and sold out or one that is probably in the industry.”

I fought the urge to trap that deep sound somewhere in my body. "My guess is that whoever told the story must have wanted it to sound less like a conflict and more like an inspirational story. They do all of that too much these days; every story is fabricated." The smile on my lips wiped immediately at his last words. my mind drifted to the story of his family, and I wanted to ask is yours too? Is your story fabricated just as you said? But instead, I found myself asking. "How do you know the real version from the fake, then?" It sounded like a double question, especially with the fact that my face had gone from a wide grin to a cautious stare into his eyes in a second.

“No that’s not what I’m saying at all, I’m asking what you know about fiction?” “You mean if I want to free a character from a story, I have to follow the rules of fiction.” “And what rules usually apply to fictional rescues from Hell?” “Wait, you said she was trapped in a story, not Hell.” “Both Heaven and Hell are stories that we tell ourselves. They’re ways of coping with our mortality and what comes after.” “I suppose you’re right, that’s why we tell tales about descents into the underworld isn’t it?” “Yes it is.”

Ilona asked. "Because that's the reality," "Yes, I know, but you don't need to tell my mother something like that. She will be hopeful and start grilling me with lots of questions," 'Okay, just say that we're just pretending to be dating. "We're just friends," answered Eldian, providing an increasingly difficult solution. "You're crazy! My mother will immediately get angry if she finds out we're just pretending," replied Ilona. "So, let's just make it a reality," said Eldrian.

After all, every person is unique like Rayene was funny and out going but Henry was a smiling person who could laugh at your baddest jokes but couldn't crack one himself. "Okay, so in our world we don't have real vampires like here. But, we have stuff that works on engines and there are even books on people like you." "So, it's your ancestry that no longer exists?" I asked as little confused. "No! No! They are fictional characters!" "What's fictional characters?" "Well, they are something that exists only in your imagination. And, then you put those imaginative characters on paper. And, boom! Fictional characters are born." Rayene explained while moving her hands in all directions while I no

Giving her a truth followed by a lie. Because now she knew my tell. She knew what was fake and what was real. Which meant I was no longer in the position where I could afford to be the liar... Did I mention that sometimes I hate my life?

A story that will unravel secrets, relive pasts, and show how dirty and utterly pleasurable politics can be; because no matter how you will look at it. Politics will always be a dirty game. And they are all ready to play. - - - - - - - - - - DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fictional and is not connected to any political parties/issues/countries. It does not follow the real life rules and regulations inside politics (e.g. proper age of the people who can run for a position in the elections, etc.). This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual