Novel & Cerita Fake It Till We Make It Book

*You have no idea what others are dealing with in their personal life so just be nice, its that simple! This book is a complete work of fiction, No name, event or happening in this book are real. If any is found common or same as real life event or happening, then it is coincidental and shouldn't be taken personally or seriously. I apologize in advance for any error you may find in this book. Please constructive comments are welcomed, (I'll reply) but any annoying comment would be ignored and deleted. 💛 Flourish Ruth Felix (also known as love_richie)

She cast an eye over me and smiled kindly. "Rough morning?" "Rough life." "Well," she set down her bags. “Let’s get you looking like you’re winning anyway. We just fake it till everyone is convinced.” "What if I don't believe it?" Her smile turned sad. "Then you pretend it’s that too, baby. You fake that too." *** THREE HOURS LATER I didn’t look like myself in the mirror.

“Look at you, princess. Didn’t think you’d actually show up.” I forced a smile, smoothing my black mini dress down my thighs. “Yeah, well. Gotta commit to the act, right?” Rowan was next, tossing a red solo cup to me. “Fake girlfriend duties, huh? Drink up. You look like you need it.” I caught the cup but didn’t drink. My fingers shook too much to even bring it to my lips. Casper just watched from across the room, eyes narrowed like he was studying me for some pop quiz. Emrys offered me a soft nod, his curls bouncing slightly when he turned.

Even though he could pick up any woman on the street or on campus, it would never be the same when spending the night with Shanon. Sighing softly, Anthony left his dirty bowl in the sink. Tomorrow the housekeeper will wash it. Anthony returned to his room and sat by the window with a book in his hand. He accidentally saw the book displayed on a shelf that said 50% discount. He took the book and took it to the cashier without hesitation. He thought it was time he read such books. How to be a great father. -00- “Shanon, I'm so nervous. Do you also feel the same way when you are going to present your research plan?”

"Mel, I miss you. I'm so sorry. I was wrong. It's all my fault for trusting a snake like Ellie. That's why the company ended up like this. Mel, I really, really miss you. Stop being angry and come back to me, okay?" My voice remained entirely indifferent. "Come back? Robert, we're divorced. We're strangers now." The line went quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his voice cracking with emotion. "But didn't we agree it was just a fake divorce?" I nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity. "Who agreed to a fake divorce? Don't forget. The papers are signed and filed. You're the one who made me sign them." Robert evidently never expected to be struck down by the very boomerang he had thrown.

“How else would you have survived your mother’s lethal glares, the ladies’ attempts to fix your single status, and all the juicy gossip about your thrilling private life?” “Oh, I don’t know, darling. It wouldn’t be that hard,” he echoed, smirking. “I’d just say I pined for a dazzling socialite—Aurora, the charming lady who broke my heart in that one unforgettable night of passion…” “Oh no, you don’t!” I gasped in mock outrage. “Don’t you dare make up corny stories about me! At least make it exciting—like how the brave Aurora swooped in to save you from the blazing dessert—!”

Something irreparable, but coverable: with smiles, with pretty looks, with good gestures. She doesn't lie, she hides the truth. She doesn't say anything, and she yells a lot in complete silence. She is the absolute image of the controversy. The good, which must be bad by nature. The beautiful thing, that it is completely broken. The strength, which has weaknesses. The quiet girl with books and loud music, who goes out to a party to get high. The promiscuity, that she does not like to kiss. The life that is not real. The life that is invented. The life that must be lived out of obligation. The fake life she invented in her dreams to survive.

Noah Ellis had a theory about Mason Reed. The theory was this: Mason was the most self-aware person Noah had ever met who worked the hardest to pretend he wasn't. Everything Mason did, the jokes, the charm, the easy confidence that filled whatever room he walked into, was deliberate. Not fake, Noah had never thought it was fake, but deliberate, the way an architect is deliberate, building something functional and beautiful that also happened to hide its own foundations. Most people never looked for the foundations.

I changed channels again to see if I could find something more cheerful on the radio to lift up my spirits, and I did. Pharrell William’s voice belting out the lyrics to “Happy” filled my stereo and I unconsciously began to tap my fingers against the steering wheel. Of course, I felt anything but happy in that moment, but ever heard of the saying, ‘Fake it till you make it?’ Yeah, that was the plan. Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof Because I’m happy Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth Because I’m happy Clap along if you know what happiness is to you

Isla replies quietly. “Like who?” I ask with a scoff. “Gabriel? Mateo? Lucas?” she offers. I shake my head again. Isla sighs deeply. “Find one, Dani. They’ll all be willing. Just fake it till you make it.” The famous words whispered between girls in the female district. Fake it till you make it. Fake the submissiveness. Fake the obedience. At the front of the classroom, the door opens. I don’t even look up. I already know it’s a dominant—only they enter without knocking.