End Of The Truman Show Mga Nobela at Kwento

Peace had just become a millionaire. THE END

And didn't let go. *****THE END*****

he asks with his deep voice a smirk forming on his face. Okay, What the heck happened? Did he just call me 'pretty smile'? "I'm sorry to disturb you, but we're about to close the bar and I won't be able to serve any more drinks," I explain as my cheeks blush but I try to keep a straight face. "Can I just have one last glass, pretty simile?" he asks, looking at me with those lovely baby brown eyes. I chuckle as I pour his last glass. "The last one," I say as I smile at him, not knowing what else to say. He smiles back at me as he finishes his last glass of Scotch and stands up.

"I love you." THE END

(Gunshot) — END — THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!

Brandon. THE END✨

The anger was still‌ there, but​ it was being swallowed whole by a d​awn‌ing, ho​r​r‍ific u⁠nderstan⁠ding of the‍ s​cale of his mista‌k⁠e. Silas l‍eaned fo‌rward, hi‌s ey⁠es narrowing to icy slits. His vo‌ice dropped ev‌en further, becoming a deadl‍y‌ whisp‌er that seemed to suck‍ a‌ll the sou‍n​d fr⁠om the hall. “But it see​ms​ I need to be c‍learer. Do yo⁠u not know who I a‌m? I am Silas fuc‌king Truman.”

To think he would now openly acknowledge our relationship out of guilt. I smiled self-deprecatingly as I watched the IV drip slowly release its contents. A nurse standing nearby couldn't help but say, "Good thing you brought her here in time, or the ba—" I coughed violently, cutting her off. Emilio turned to get me water, and in that moment, I shook my head at the nurse, signaling her to stop. I'd already decided to end things with Emilio, so I didn't want him to know about the child.

Everything was worth it. Cut. Fade out. . .

We are home. THE END