Flying Chicken Artinya

Seruni Arkadewi merasa dunianya runtuh satu persatu, saat sebuah kecelakaan merenggut kesempurnaan indrawinya. Kedua kakinya yang sebelumnya kuat dan lincah, kini menjadi timpang. Dan ternyata kemalangannya bukan hanya itu saja. Dimulai dari penghianatan kekasih dan sahabatnya yang menjalin hubungan di belakangnya, hingga desakan ayah tirinya yang ingin menikahkannya dengan seorang bandot tua karena harta. Muak dengan stigma bahwa takdir seorang wanita adalah di dapur, di sumur dan di kasur, Seruni minggat dari desanya. Ia ingin membuktikan bahwa seorang wanita dengan segala keterbatasan fisiknya, mampu berdiri di atas kakinya sendiri jikalau mau berusaha. Sementara itu, Antonio Brata Kesuma--sang anak sultan klan Brata Kesuma, paling tidak bisa mentolerir segala bentuk ketidaksempurnaan. Baginya semua yang cacat, tidak akan masuk hitungan. Baik itu berupa barang, ataupun orang. "Saya tidak minta dikasihani. Yang saya pinta hanya satu. Jangan menjadikan ketidaksempurnaan saya sebagai alasan untuk menjegal semua impian-impian saya. Saya memang cacat, tapi saya tidak bodoh. Saya mohon, izinkan saya berjuang." -Seruni Arkadewi- "Kamu itu selemah-lemahnya manusia. Sudah cacat, perempuan lagi. Sudahlah, terima takdirmu dan diam saja di rumah. Jangan mempersulit diri sendiri. Dunia ini keras. Ketahuilah, tekad tanpa amunisi, itu artinya bunuh diri. -Antonio Brata Kesuma-

Kinara harus menjalani hidupnya di Falseland, tempat asing yang penuh misteri dan keajaiban karena sebuah kesalahan fatal yang ia lakukan. Ia dikutuk menjadi setengah manusia setengah burung. Demi kembali menjadi manusia normal dan bisa hidup di dunia asalnya, ia harus melakukan misi penebusan dosa dengan melakukan banyak kebaikan agar bisa bertemu dengan Kinari. Mereka mendapat tugas yang sama, yaitu harus menemukan satu sama lain dan menarikan tarian kesetiaan di bawah pohon kalpataru dan disaksikan oleh seluruh penduduk Falseland. Perjalanan untuk menyelesaikan misi tidaklah mudah. Banyak rintangan yang dihadapi. Kinara dibantu oleh sahabat setianya yang bernama Rhara (berwujud setengah manusia setengah kelinci). Mereka berdua penuh optimis dan keberanian dalam menakhlukkan lawan-lawannya. Jika Kinara melakukan kebaikan, maka akan mendekatkan kepada Kinari. namun, kejahatan yang ia lakukan akan menjauhkannya dari Kinari dan membawanya ke Blackland (tempat di mana makhluk terkutuk sepenuhnya berubah menjadi binatang dan kehilangan semua sisi kemanusiaannya). Tantangan tidak berhenti sampai di situ. Sebab, Kinara adalah Si Terpilih. Artinya ia adalah sosok penentu keberhasilan bagi seluruh makhluk terkutuk yang sedang menjalani misi. Jika misinya berhasil maka semua makhluk bisa kembali ke wujud asli dan dunianya. Akankah Kinara menyelesaikan misinya? Atau justru terjebak dan memilih tinggal di Whiteland?

Married in secret for five years, Yvonne Singer always thought I was just a washed-up nobody from a fallen family. What she didn't know was that I was the sole successor to Guzman Group, the world's largest venture capital firm. She tricked me into attending a cocktail party for the sake of her male best friend, Francis Yorke, and forced me to toast my sworn rival. Furious, I shattered the wineglass in my hand and snapped, "Yvonne, don't push me! Believe it or not, with a single word from me, your company can disappear from the stock market by tomorrow!" Panic flickered in her eyes. The next second, she threw herself into my arms. "Honey, I just needed your help. I didn't mean to hurt you." She then personally fed me a hangover pill and gently escorted me to a private room. When I woke up, I was hanging upside down from a drop tower. Francis slammed the switch. I was sent flying dozens of feet into the air, then plummeting straight down into the water. As my consciousness began to waver, I forced myself to make an emergency call. "Mr. Chance, contact global media outlets. Before nightfall, I want headlines showing them begging on the streets!"

The night before my fiancé, Soren, and I were supposed to leave for Northern Europe to start our new life, the sounds of a lively discussion drifted from his private club. "Christ, Boss, are you insane? Why the sudden marriage alliance with the Rosetti family to make a play for Italy? Didn't you say you were getting out of the life with Abby and heading north?" Soren leaned back into a leather sofa, his voice nonchalant and muffled by a cloud of smoke. "Plans change. Besides, remember, I'm the one who made her who she is." "Once she sees the new empire I'm building, that little canary will come flying right back to my cage. The woman can't live without me." I stood in the shadows of the club, a wine glass in my hand, a dull ache blooming in my chest. The anniversary gift I had so carefully chosen for Soren was still in my purse, waiting for me to give it to him. I slipped out of the smoke-filled club, tossed the gift into the nearest trash can, and booked a one-way ticket to Northern Europe. But what he didn't know was that just as he could betray our future for Monica, I could abandon him for mine. All those years we spent dancing with death were never just for his sake.

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

I was always flying for work, so I left the whole renovation thing to my husband, Daxton Pruitt. This time, my flight got scrapped last minute, so I swung by the house to check in. The second I stepped inside, some woman named Mona Scambley, who claimed she was the designer, chucked a stack of invoices at me. Couples' lingerie display case: $15,000. High-end waterbed: $40,000. One glance at that pile of overpriced tacky nonsense made me nauseous. My brows pulled tight. "Ms. Scambley, this is a private house, not some couples' motel. What is all this?" Her face flipped in a heartbeat. She jabbed a finger at me. "The owner gave those orders. You're just the site supervisor. Disobey me again, and I'll have Mr. Pruitt fire you!" Then she spun around and called Daxton right there. I laughed, cold and low, about to ask what kind of clown show designer he'd hired—until I heard his voice. Gentle. Doting. "This is Mona and my love nest. We'll do whatever we want. Don't like it? Get out." I smiled, snatched the list from Mona, and nodded. "Sure." One week later, that overpriced waterbed showed up—Daxton, very much not smiling.

Jarek yanked me into his arms squeezing me tightly. "That is not how that works here." His hand had moved to my skin sending those same tingles through my body. I tried to shove back but he held me tighter. "Mine!" He growled sticking his nose in my throat. "My mate. No one will hurt you again." "She is not yours!" Ajax growled shoving us apart with me flying behind him. "See? Like a possession." Having been homeless since your were 14 means you can handle pretty much anything and everyone. That was until two giants show up trying to kill you on someone's orders while a and Demon wolf shifter show up telling you that you have family left alive and you are magical just like them. That family is waiting for you at a school for the supernatural because that is what you are. Ready to be done with it all but your bestfriend who is a big mutt is injured so you go with them. You want her fixed and a chat with this so called grandpa. It might end up being a violent chat but no one has ever called you a lady. Doesn't help that you felt mate tingles with one of the guys and the rest of their friends are hot as sin. This is not where life was supposed to take you but you are down for the ride.

Suasana meledak, semua orang maju. Aku segera bergerak cepat ke arah Salma yang langsung melayangkan kakinya ke selangkangan dua pria yang mengapitnya. Aku meraih tangan Salma. Sesuai arahku Ferdi dan tiga temannya mengikutiku. "Fer, bawa!" Aku melepas lengan Salma. Ferdi bergegas menariknya menjauhiku. "Keluar!" tegasku sambil menunjuk arah belakang yang memang kosong. "Nggak, Arka!" teriak Salma, terus menjulurkan tangan. Aku tersenyum. Salma perlahan hilang. Syukurlah mereka berhasil kabur. Hampir lima belas menit, aku masih bertahan. Banyak dari mereka yang langsung tumbang setelah kuhajar. Tapi beberapa serangan berhasil membuat sekujur badanku babak belur. Kini penglihatanku sudah mulai runyam. Aku segera meraih balok kayu yang tergeletak tak jauh, lalu menodongkannya ke segala arah. Tanpa terduga, ada yang menyerangku dari belakang, kepalaku terasa dihantam keras dengan benda tumpul. Kakiku tak kuat lagi menopang, tak lama tubuhku telah terjengkang. Pandanganku menggelap. Sayup-sayup, aku mendengar bunyi yang tak asing. Namun, seketika hening. (Maaf, ya, jika ada narasi maupun dialog yang memakai Bahasa Sunda. Kalau mau tahu artinya ke Mbah Google aja, ya, biar sambil belajar plus ada kerjaan. Ehehehe. Salam damai dari Author) Ikuti aku di cuiter dan kilogram @tadi_hujan, agar kita bisa saling kenal.

My mom is a retired supermodel. She's added a monitor to the weight scales at home so that she can monitor my and my sister, Abigail Teller's perfect body weight. If my data goes up by 0.1%, Mom will ban me from eating for the next three days. But the thing is, Abigail keeps eating fried chicken every day, yet her monitor's light is always green. Mom claims that Abigail's still going through puberty. I defend myself, saying that I've gained weight because of the bloating caused by my period. As Mom points at the red light emitted by my monitor, she exclaims, "The data is never wrong! If you've gained weight, that means you've been snacking far too much!" After getting punished many times, I begin believing that being fat is a sin. On the night of my 20th birthday, the long-term diet I've been placed on has triggered my kidney failure, which causes me to bloat up everywhere. I kneel on the floor and plead to Mom that I'm seriously ill. But that's when the monitor lets out a shrill alarm. When Mom sees the 5% increase in my body fat data, she puts me through a devillish punishment. I can feel the electric currents jolting through my body. "It's bad enough that you've secretly snacked on cake, but to even lie in my face about your illness? I'd like to see how long you can stay stubborn for!" Having said her piece, Mom locks the door and takes Abigail out to celebrate her birthday. I guess Mom is correct. Monitors never lie. I'm the one who's at the wrong for being a glutton. That's why I've transformed into a monster who doesn't deserve any love at all. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll only drink water in my next life.

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.