Freak Out Artinya

I go to the boutique my son has invested in to pick up the gown I've ordered for a banquet. Just as I'm about to leave, the manager, Wendy Reed, stops me and says that I still owe them money. She pulls out the bill. I look down at it and see that the boutique is charging me 300 thousand dollars for their creativity, 500 thousand dollars for fabric therapy, and one million dollars for their chief designer's mental wellness. On top of other expenses, the price totals up to two million dollars. I laugh incredulously and send a message to my secretary. "Withdraw our funding from my son's company and this boutique!"

In my last life, my sister and I got adopted into two very different worlds. My mom? The "cool" type. Let me perm my hair in elementary school, signed off on a nose job in middle school, and shoved me toward one of Northport's richest heirs right after college. Ella's mom? Hardcore strict. Pulled her out of a fling with some delinquent and married her off to a quiet professor with a just-decent paycheck. Ella hated it. Wanted my life so bad. So when I ended up in the hospital pregnant, she used her shiny doctor title to kill me—and my baby. Then boom—I woke up, and we were back to adoption day. This time, she dove for the mom she thought handed me the dream. What she didn't know? That "cool mom" she worshipped was straight-up a monster.

I’ve always been someone with a strong, restless libido I can’t quite explain. I’ve never gone to a doctor about it, but I know myself well enough to realize it’s something that comes and goes in waves, especially when I'm ovulating. During that time of the month, I'd need to do it two to three times a day or my body would feel extremely uncomfortable. Normally, my tall, broad-shouldered husband would be the one to ease that ache and fill the emptiness in me. However, lately he’s been impossibly busy, away on business trips for weeks at a time…

It all started when my sister made an offhand remark while sponsoring a poor student. She told him it was a coincidence that we were born on the same day, at the exact hour too. That comment made him convince himself that he was the real heir, that we were switched at birth. Soon after, he showed up with two thugs, kidnapped me, and planned to kill me to reclaim his life. I called my fiancée for help in desperation. Instead of saving me, she told me impatiently that I deserved to die for stealing his life. Her friend showed up to save me, but neither of us made it out alive after I was pushed into the river. I was back on the day when I was kidnapped when I opened my eyes again. When the poor student laughed and told me to pick someone to leave my last words to, I did not hesitate to call my sister. Their fates were sealed, with another chance at life, I would make sure to make them pay, and show them who the real heir was.

After I got pregnant, I witnessed my boyfriend's grandmother's death. She left behind a secret, and now, everyone who knows that secret is dead. First, it was my boyfriend's father who died. My boyfriend's mother followed soon after. Lastly, my boyfriend died too. He ended his life by overdosing right before my eyes. The media went wild. They dug obsessively for the truth. Again and again, the police summoned me for questioning. Online hate toward me was overwhelming. Everyone wants to know what the secret is. People claim I cursed my boyfriend's entire family to death, just to keep the secret to myself. I stay silent, never saying a word in defense of myself. On the seventh day after my boyfriend had passed, I spot someone at his funeral. At that moment, I place my hand on my swollen belly. I am utterly calm and at peace. It is time for me and my child to die too.

My best friend, Scarlett Throne, is diagnosed with cancer. After running away from home, she takes her own life. She leaves behind only a testament and a pair of eight-year-old twins, a boy and a girl. "You're the only person I can rely on in this world. I'm not asking you to adopt them, but just make sure they have enough to eat." Out of compassion, I take the siblings in. For the next 20 years, my husband and I have been working hard together to raise them, buying them cars and houses. But one day, my adopted daughter reports my husband for being abusive toward her. Even my supposedly dead best friend suddenly appears and testifies against him. I demand to know why she does such a thing. My best friend, filled with righteous indignation, says, "I see you as my best friend! I've never thought you adopted my children just to serve your husband's perversions!" My husband's reputation is ruined, and he's been thrown in jail. I desperately try to prove his innocence, only to be forcibly sent to a mental hospital by my adopted son. There, I wither away and die. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day my best friend was diagnosed with cancer.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

I catch the eye of a talent scout on the street and am sent abroad for training. However, as soon as I land, my passport is snatched away. I'm even locked into a cage. The people who beat me up tell me death is the only path for people who disobey orders at Elder Corporation. But if my memory serves me correctly, Elder Corporation is the name of my fiancé's company abroad.

The care center called. "Hi, just wanted to ask if you're happy with our service so far." Well, that was odd. I was only eight months along. My baby wasn't even born yet. I had no need for the care center at the moment. So I kept digging. I pressed my husband for answers. He was the one handling the talks with the care center. I wanted to know what was going on. He gave me an apologetic look. "This center costs 120 grand, honey. We can't afford that. They must've gotten the wrong number. You should stay at home instead. I'll give you the perfect care you need." That was it. I wasn't going to waste my time talking to him. My sister, Jessie Gibson, owned the care center, so I called her instead. "Jessie? Yeah, it's me. William sent another woman to your place and stole my spot. I want you to find out who. He's cheating on me, and I'm getting proof!"

Feeling overwhelmed by loneliness, I installed a one-way mirror in the bedroom of the apartment next door, which I specifically rent out to muscular men. One day, through the mirror on the wall, I watched my tenant with his girlfriend, caught up in their fiery passion. I couldn't help but be drawn to his strong physique and impressive size. One day, I pulled him into a small, dimly lit cubicle with me...