Faking Straight

I had always been naturally celibate. Yet somehow, I still ended up chemically castrating myself. It was all because, in my previous life, my wife's precious idealized lover, a libidinous playboy, went viral as a pickup artist and dumped every side effect of his indulgent lifestyle onto me. He spent nights partying in hotel rooms with groups of women while I collapsed from kidney failure and was rushed to the ER. He lounged in clubs with women in both arms, downing bottle after bottle, while I went into an allergic shock and nearly died. I confronted my wife about it, but she shoved me away impatiently. "Shane already told me nothing happened with those women! You're just jealous and faking illness to slander him!" However, the playboy's actions only escalated. Chasing bigger thrills, he even started getting involved with men in drag. Thanks to him, I caught an STD, which pushed my wife to demand a divorce. I went to the hospital for treatment, but the doctors could not find the cause. Instead, they tossed me straight into an addiction rehab program. Later, for the sake of boosting his live stream numbers, the playboy went wild in Southwind Asira's nightlife scene. After he spent an entire night drowning in pleasure, I, drained past my limit, collapsed and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day he began his online hunt.

On my wedding night, Sean Boswell was with his first love when I suffered a miscarriage as my kidnappers tortured me. I begged endlessly for him to save me, only for him to laugh, "You were just demanding a divorce in the morning, and now you're faking a kidnapping so that I'd come back? Is that the only thing you can do?" Eventually, when I gave up and stopped clinging on being Mrs. Boswell, he chased me to the airport, pleading with a crack in his voice, "Just stay, Anna. Let's make things how it used to be."

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

I thought my biggest problem was dating again. Then I accidentally fell for my OB-GYN— who just so happens to be my boyfriend’s dad. Now I’m faking symptoms just to see him, trying not to blush when he says, “Miss Monroe, please spread your knees.” But when my “perfect” boyfriend starts to spiral and his secrets turn dangerous, the only man I trust to save me is the one I was never supposed to want. One man sees me as a trophy. The other sees me as his patient. But I’ve never wanted to be treated gently.

Locked up in a place where excessive sadness and loneliness grew, Madison Zedler instantly got used to her life. A life designated for her ever since she was in her mother's womb wherein the mission shall be continued by her as the Vampire heiress, in terminating humanity. In order to hide her existence, faking was the only thing they relied on. But, a sudden realization hits her when a disarray of events suddenly entangled, that what she has been doing all along has no worth; her hard work has been wiped out for chaos and betrayal took over everything. Will she be able to continue the said mission? Or will she be enlightened in paving a new beginning?

Adrianna’s wishlist never included faking her identity, but when her sister’s mysterious death is linked to Lance Hamilton—a powerful and dangerous mafia boss—she makes a bold move. To take him down from the inside. But things don’t go as planned. Lance is not the monster Adrianna thought he was, and the deeper she digs, the darker the truths she uncovers about the people she thought she could trust. Now, enemies are everywhere, and Adrianna is caught in a game far bigger—and deadlier—than she ever imagined. With danger chasing her at every turn, Adrianna has to decide: can she trust Lance to help her survive, or will he be the one to destroy her?

Adeline has been in love with Blake Rhodes for as long as she could remember-twelve years of silent yearning turned into three loveless years of marriage. She has always wanted him to return her love. However, Blake's heart is clouded by manipulation and misunderstandings, with the shadows cast by Adeline's half-sister Rebecca. Unknown to Blake, it is not Rebecca who is dying but Adeline. Adeline has stage four cancer, a secret she holds tightly, even as Blake is forcing her to give her blood-and a kidney-to save Rebecca. So, while Rebecca is faking being ill for Blake, Adeline keeps the pain to herself and silently suffers by sacrificing all her possessions for the man who doesn't perceive her value.

While I was five months pregnant, my husband, Randall Harris, accompanied his assistant to the hospital for an IV drip.   He even posted a selfie with her on social media.   I called him, and he lied straight to my face, saying he was stuck in a meeting at the office.   When I confronted him, he fought with me, gave me the cold shoulder, and then went straight back to his assistant for comfort.   “Are you sure you don’t want to notify the baby’s father? The surgeon asked me. “After this surgery, you won’t ever be able to have children again.”  I closed my eyes.  “He’s dead to me.” 

Ang sabi nila, ang pinakamasayang tao ang pinakamalungkot sa lahat. That they are faking their happiness. That even they are alive, they are dying deep inside. All I can see is my pain. My anger towards her. She's the cause of my loneliness. I lost the love of my life because of her. Why should I care? She deserves it anyway. But little did I know, she's dying deep within. I've hurt her. All I did was give her pain. Ipinamukha ko sa kanya na kailanman ay hindi ko siya mamahalin. Little by little, I am killing her. I took out her shine. Her bright smile. Her own life. I've crushed her heart. Michelle is like a flower, slowly withering without my notice. Melting my heartless heart is her only option.

In Dean Murray's eyes, Rachel Gray was a ruthless gold digger who would go to any lengths for money, even setting traps and faking a pregnancy to force a marriage. Therefore, Dean had never treated her well after they got married. Rachel endured this for a long time but finally decided to file for divorce on their third anniversary. "How much more do you want?" Dean said with a dark expression. "I don't have time to play these childish games with you." "Not a penny," Rachel replied calmly. She thought they would never intersect again, but not long after the divorce, Dean appeared before her once more. "If you regret it, I might consider giving you another chance." Rachel responded, "Thank you, but I'm good."