Editor Jobs Remote Novels & Stories

Joyce Stone, the beautiful and rich campus belle, often puts the tab on my account whenever she uses her card on any transactions. When she helps a low-income student with their financial problems, the money I save up from thrifting and working part-time jobs for the month is instantly depleted. When she treats the whole class to lunch, the prize money I won from my physics competition is drained right away. I try to argue with Joyce, only to hear the whole class calling me jealous of her beauty and kindness. Only my boyfriend, Lucas Zimmer, still trusts me. We work together to come up with all sorts of solutions to stop Joyce from using my money. But no matter what I do, my money keeps getting funneled from my account. Before the final exams, Joyce suddenly suggests that we all attend an auction and buy whatever we want there. The million-dollar funds that I've gathered from selling my house in order to treat my mom's illness vanishes from my account immediately. Mom ends up dying from her illness. Since I no longer have money in my account, my life force is the one getting depleted when Joyce keeps spending with her card. In the end, I've died as well. Before I close my eyes, I notice a video of Lucas and Joyce kissing on my phone. He looks at Joyce lovingly before saying, "Melanie gets jealous far too easily. If I don't pretend to trust her, I'm worried that she might go berserk and hurt you." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Joyce is about to use her card to pay for everyone's expenses. Before she can open her mouth, I dig out my bank card right away. "Let me treat all of you to whatever you want today."

My parents and my younger sister, Mable Munroe, are diagnosed with severe illnesses one after another. As I stare at the astronomical sum of medical bills, I can only grit my teeth and deal with them by taking on ten part-time jobs in one go. After stirring awake from collapse caused by exhaustion, I realize that I can hear the thoughts of everyone around me. My mom, who's too busy coughing up blood, has something else going on in her mind. "This low-quality fake blood really is disgusting! Why isn't that stupid brat giving us her salary of the day? I need the money to buy new bags!" My dad, who's already crippled from his disease, thinks, "I'm about to get cramps from all the cripple-faking I have to do! Once Talia clears my debt, I'm going to get myself a nice proper massage for a few days straight!" Meanwhile, the weakened Mable has already cooked up a plot in her mind. "Hurry up and tell that broke boyfriend of mine to stay awake from me! I want Talia to break up with him on my behalf! That way, I'll be able to reel in my next boyfriend without any guilt!" As I stare at my family, I choose to not expose their lies. Instead, I retrieve all the money that I've planned on paying their "medical bills" with. Later on, I track down Mable's boyfriend, Kyle Hargrove. There, I can hear his thoughts echoing loudly in my mind. "Did Mable get her sister to send the message that she wants to dump me? I'll have her know that I'm the only son of the richest man in town! Mable and that family of hers shall live in regret for the rest of their lives!" A bold thought pops into my mind all of a sudden. I twist my ankle on the spot and use the opportunity to collapse right into Kyle's arms.

On the night of our third anniversary, Killian missed dinner again. Texted me he was working late at the auto shop. I looked at the $5.90 clearance cake on the table. I'd fought a crowd at the grocery store to buy it. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. We need to save for a real house in Brooklyn, I told myself. I put the cake in the fridge. I wrapped my cheap coat tight and walked into the cold to deliver late-night takeout for extra cash. I never expected to run into my "poor" husband at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. He stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in a sharp custom suit, tossing hundred-dollar bills to the valet. A hot woman wearing a priceless pigeon-blood ruby followed behind him, hooking his arm. "Killian, it's snowing so hard. Are you really going back to Brooklyn to play house with your naive little peasant wife?" she whined. Killian looked at the cheap, tarnished silver ring on his finger. A hint of softness crossed his cold eyes. "For three years, she worked five jobs a day to pay off the fake debts I made up. She wouldn't even see a doctor when she was sick." "That's enough. She passed my test. Once I deal with the rat in the family, I'll tell her everything. Give her the glory she deserves as my Donna." The woman bit her lip. "What if she finds out you're a Mafia Don and is just after your money? Why not tell her you have a terminal illness—see if she'll drain her savings to save you. Test her one more time…" Killian stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "One last test. After this, I'm giving her the grandest wedding." The freezing wind howled. I gripped the paper takeout bag. Tears rolled down my face without a sound. I am done with this arrogant, lying love.

On my first day back with the Cannon family as the true heiress, I heard the voice of the family’s guardian spirit. “You must stop your father from investing in the West City project. There’s an ancient tomb beneath the site. He’ll lose everything.” I convinced my father, Aaron Cannon, to abandon the project and invest in North City instead. But a factory next to the North City site had a toxic gas leak. Dozens of workers died overnight. Aaron lost his entire fortune to the compensation. While the family was drowning in despair, the guardian spirit spoke again. “Money can be earned again, but it’s a pity your mother will die in a car crash tomorrow when she goes out to borrow money from an old friend.” I immediately stopped my mother, Sally Cannon, from leaving the house. She avoided the car accident but tragically died from a sudden heart attack. With tears streaming down his face, Aaron told me she had been having chest pains for days but had endured the pain. She had only decided to go to the hospital today because she could not bear it any longer. My blood ran cold. By stopping her from going out, I had ultimately caused her death. Overwhelmed with grief, Aaron drank pesticide and died on the spot. Overnight, there was no one left in the family but me and the fake heiress, Pearl Cannon. To repay the debts and support my education, Pearl took on three jobs a day. Then, the guardian spirit spoke to me once more. “Your sister has been dragged into an alley. Go save her now!” I rushed to the location. I arrived breathless and frantic, but I was already too late. My sister lay in a pool of blood. She was not breathing anymore. I thought, ‘Mia Talbert, it’s all your fault! You’re a curse. You should’ve died instead!’ Consumed by despair, I jumped from a tall building and ended my miserable life. When I opened my eyes, I had traveled to the past.

I'm the only son of my parents, who are the richest people in the country. Yet, they decide to raise me while giving me as little money as possible. In order to toughen me up, they decide to only give me five thousand dollars per year. "Two thousand dollars is for college tuition, and the remaining three thousand dollars is for your living costs and accommodation. If you want to stay at home, you'll need to pay rent—500 dollars a day. If you don't have the money, you can write an IOU." But I end up getting robbed that night, leaving me penniless. In order to be able to continue my college studies, I can only ask my parents for money. Of course, they turn me down immediately. "You actually learned how to lie just to swindle more money from us, eh? Since you refuse to learn your lesson, your allowance for next year will be cut in half." My parents refuse to listen to my explanation and insist on kicking me out. So, I can only work three jobs per day, allowing me to save up two thousand dollars. But the moment I save the money in my account, it gets frozen instantly. That's when my parents begin mocking me. "And here you are, claiming that you didn't lie to us! Where did you get the tuition fees from, then? We shall confiscate the money as a form of punishment. You can use the rest of your money for your studies." Amid my despair, I see the live comments streaking before my eyes. "The male lead's parents want him to realize that it isn't easy living out there. When they hired the thugs to rob him blind, their hearts ached so much for him that they cried." "I hope that the male lead can grow up as soon as possible. That way, the misunderstanding will get resolved, and the family of three can continue living happily ever after." But this time, the comments can no longer console me. I place the house keys on the porch quietly before turning on my heel and walking away. I don't want these parents of mine anymore.

Every year on the day the SAT results are released, I spend the entire day kneeling at my mother's grave. Three years ago, I fell for a phone scam and transferred all of the tuition money she had saved through years of diligently saving up to the scammers. Unable to take the sudden blow, Mom suffered a fatal heart attack. After she passed away, debt collectors began showing up at our door. Only then did I learn how much money she had borrowed just to keep us afloat. I have no choice but to give up my admission offer from Jaloria College. Working five jobs a day, I finally repay every last debt today. On the subway ride to the cemetery, I suddenly come across a streamer whose voice sounds strangely familiar. She blabs, "How do you teach kids the value of earning money? In my experience, extreme circumstances work the best. I deliberately created a scenario for my daughter where both her parents are supposedly dead, and she inherited a million dollars of my debt. "She's almost finished paying it off now. Tell me, can your kids do that?" Someone in the comments section questions her methods, saying it is too insane. She only grows more smug as she gloats, "So what? She's the one who was stupid enough to get scammed. I was just teaching her a lesson. As a reward for doing so well, I'll tell her the truth on her birthday five days from now. Any sensible child will understand their parents' good intentions." As she gestures animatedly, a crescent-shaped birthmark on her wrist comes into view. It's identical to my mom's. My hands tremble as I create a new account. I switch the profile picture to a man in a suit and change the background to luxury cars and mansions. Then, I send her an expensive virtual gift. While she excitedly thanks me, I leave a comment. "You're absolutely right, ma'am. If only I had a smart woman like you around to help me raise my children."

On the day the SAT scores are released, the reporters track me down, the top scorer of the entire nation, in order to get an interview with me. That's when they find me fishing for a corpse by the river. When the reporters ask me who I'm thankful to the most, my mom, who's allegedly been dead for ten years, makes an appearance. She gets out of the Maybach, looking very high and mighty. "Your dad didn't remarry for ten years, and you've become the top scorer of the nation. As expected, both of you have passed my test." I can only grip my pole while staring at her in confusion. It turns out that ten years ago, Mom's adopted younger brother, Donald Ferguson, suggested to her, "Why don't you fake your death and test your husband's mettle? You should pretend to go bankrupt and jump off a building. If he can stay single for your sake for the next ten years, that should prove that he didn't marry you just for your money." Mom had laughed back then. "When we were still dating, I pretended to be poor for three years. Walter could take five jobs just to put food on the table for me. It's so evident that he loves me to the moon and back. Ten years isn't a problem; heck, he'll definitely remain unmarried for 20 years, or even for the rest of his life!" The fact that I, the top scorer of the nation, am actually the wealthiest woman, Eloise Ferguson's son, gives a huge boost to the shares of her company. The entire nation looks forward to seeing Mom and me hugging each other while bawling at the top of our lungs. Mom looks around her surroundings. "Where's Walter? I'm here to take both of you home with me." "He's dead." The pole in my hands slowly cracks into splinters as I look up at Mom and spit out the answer word by word. "Three years ago, Dad kept working his ass off day and night just to buy the best burial plot for you. That was when he died in this very river."

My infertile wife, Quinn Hart, finally gets pregnant after seven years of marriage. But our baby boy is diagnosed with a rare disease shortly after being born. In order to treat our child's disease, Quinn and I have sold everything we own. Alas, we still aren't able to gather enough money to save him. Left without a choice, I can only take on jobs far away from home. Since Quinn is left penniless, she and our child are forced to room with other people. One day, I receive a work order that comes with lucrative rewards. Apparently, I'm required to clean windows on a tall building. Coincidentally, the address points to the building where Quinn is rooming with others. I slowly descend to the window, hoping to give Quinn a surprise. But that's when I notice the boisterous atmosphere inside that particular room. I notice Quinn holding our baby boy with one hand while her other hand is intertwined with another man. "Everyone, meet my husband whom I'm secretly married to for many years, Chester Langston. Today is our moving day as well as the celebration party for our son. "Thank you for attending the grand occasion. We'd like to toast to you in order to show our gratitude." I feel my blood freezing in my veins at that moment. Meanwhile, Quinn is typing away on her phone a short distance away. The next thing I know, I hear my phone chiming once. It seems that a new text has appeared on the screen. "Honey, I'm already pinching pennies just by sharing the same bed with other people with our son. But the thing is, I don't have enough money to last the month…" I can hear Quinn's "husband" teasing her with a soft chuckle through the open window. "So, this is how you've been lying to him, huh?" Quinn just smiles at him casually. "I did everything out of love for you, didn't I? In fact, I've been pretending to be infertile for seven long years just so I can keep my promise to you. And now, I'm pretending to be poor to the point that I keep telling Nicholas that I'm sharing a bed with strangers every day."

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."

Every other student could hear the inner thoughts of Chloe Yates, the campus belle. It was like a radio station was broadcasting her mind, and unfortunately for me, the broadcast was usually bad news. It started during the ROTC courses in our freshman year. I was doubled over with terrible period cramps and asked to sit out. Chloe just shook her head, letting out a dramatic, pitying sigh. "Oh, this is awful," her internal voice broadcast to everyone. "Should I tell everyone the truth? Sylvie is totally faking it. If the sergeant finds out she's lying, he's going to punish the whole class because of her." The sergeant, hearing her thoughts, immediately assumed I was a liar. He forced the entire class to run 30 laps as punishment. After that, no one would talk to me. Later, when I applied for the need-based financial aid grant, Chloe went on a rampage with her internal thoughts. "Her family isn't poor!" her voice screamed in everyone's heads. "They have a car and a house. She's just vain. She's trying to scam the college out of grant money so she can buy a new phone. I feel so bad for the actual poor kid whose spot she's stealing." Once the class heard that, they silently agreed to vote against my application. Without that money, I had no choice but to work three part-time jobs just to survive. I worked myself into the ground until I finally gave out. I collapsed in the classroom while clutching my chest, suffering a massive heart attack. I cried out, begging my classmates to call 911. However, Chloe's voice cut through the air right then. "She doesn't have a heart condition. She's pregnant. She's trying to trick a guy into taking her to the hospital so she can get an abortion, and then she's going to frame whoever helps her for getting her knocked up." Terrified of being blamed, the students backed away from me like I was radioactive. They stood there and watched as I died on the classroom floor. Right up until the moment I died, I never understood why my life had turned into such a nightmare. However, when I snapped my eyes open, I had returned to the day of the ROTC courses. The cramps were back, and the sun was beating down on me. Chloe did not know one crucial detail. This time, I could hear her thoughts too.