Fake Façade Novels & Stories

This was far worse… “They've been artificially generated,” Ashley said, placing her hand on my shoulder. “It's easy to prove.” I nodded and tried to smile at her, but judging by her grimace, I most likely failed. I knew they were fake. I knew they were simply created to resemble me, but others didn't know that, and fixing this belief would be much harder than crushing down false rumors. To the majority of people, photos like these were evidence—sick and disgusting proof of my alleged immorality.

"We feed them something else." "Feed them what?" "A false positive," I say. "We give them a stream of data that shows a decline. A degradation. A terminal failure." Liam looks up, his eyes widening. "You want to fake a miscarriage?" "I want them to think the asset is dead," I say. "If the product is 'lost,' they’ll stop the program. They’ll pull the resources. And then, we vanish." "Aiden, you can't fake that. They have doctors. They have labs."

"You're lying to us. A newspaper report doesn't prove anything—" I threw a paternity test at them and said, "He already bribed all the doctors when he showed up and claimed to be Ethan. The test that he gave you was fake. This is the real one. "Also, he's been using the house rules that you set up to force me to give him money this entire time, forbidding me from telling you what was going on. The money in my bank account didn't just disappear into thin air. I gave every single cent that I owned to him!"

"I know, I just can't." "How long will you hide in that facade?" She slowly turned to him with reddish nose. "Probably forever." "Remove that facade and move on for real, unveil all of them and accept it no matter how hard it is." A weak smile escape from her lips as she turned to the fountain again. "I am ugly behind this facade, I'm happy now." "Fake happiness, never last long. Remove that facade or faith will smash it for you. You are not ugly, you are precious, you know that."

(FACADE) FAÇADE. The words mean someone wearing a mask, a false reality someone is pretending to be. A lie and the very untrue theme of someone who wanted to hide something or be somebody else they want to be yet they could not. To the human realm, in human nature and the very freedom of choice, God gifted mankind, with HIS love and unmeasurable patience to his creations will one who is wearing a mask can conceal the darkness that he had inside? What if one would tell that wearing one is for the sake of the many? Is the white lie still considered as a sin?

I give her a proud grin and motion my head for her to keep going. She shifts around on the couch again. “The truth is, my father had put a spell on me when I was a child to make everyone think I’m actually an alpha when, in reality, I’m an omega girl.” Gasps ring out through the phone, but they remain quiet.

“Says the woman faking an illness to steal a man. I’d say that’s a much worse offense.” Her mouth fell open in feigned shock. She pressed a hand to her chest. “How dare you accuse me of such a despicable thing?” I walked past her to the sink, pulling out my compact mirror and powder. My reflection didn’t lie—messy hair, lips still flushed. I dabbed at my lipstick, my voice cold. “I know you, Victoria. And I know your games.” Her face hardened, the sweet façade slipping for just a second. She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper. “You have no idea who I really am… or what I’m capable of.”

“Oh?” “I know,” she continued, “that the life you present to the world is a fabrication. You’re not who you claim to be. You’re not the owner of the Big Bella fashion brand you never were. You bought a temporary name-and-image license from a failing businesswoman. You paid her off while she was desperate, then paraded yourself as a mogul for the cameras and to make my son fall for you, thinking you're an ambitious woman, not knowing you're just a gold digger, and you’ve been riding that illusion for years, pretending it was your empire.” The words landed heavier than I expected, FVCK!!! Diane has gotten on my nerves now.

And if he could find those… He might be able to build a fake leak. A decoy. Drop it before the real one. Rewrite the narrative. Rewrite the clock. Rewrite the game.

I couldn't help but wonder if our friendship had been nothing more than a facade, a charade orchestrated for her own gain. As Raquel feigned interest in my baby, a subtle change in her countenance caught my eye. A flicker of resentment, quickly masked, flashed across her features. It was a fleeting moment, easily missed by others, but it confirmed my suspicions. Raquel's happiness for my newfound motherhood was a facade, a mask she wore to maintain appearances.