Glow Up Caption

On my fifth birthday with Zachary Murdock, I sit once again in front of a full table of cold food, just like every year before. Zachary had promised, as always, to spend the day with me. And, as always, he breaks that promise. This year, it's because his childhood sweetheart wanted to shoot a set of "artistic photos". She invited him and a few of his close buddies to be part of it. Without hesitation, he ditches me again and runs straight into her arms. At 11:00 pm, his childhood sweetheart posts a photo to her social media and sets it so that only I can see it. In the picture, four men are in nothing but black briefs and Windsor-knotted ties. They kneel around her while she is draped in sheer fabric like a goddess. The caption reads, "Some people beg for crumbs, but I own the entire bakery." I take a screenshot. Then, I send it to the girlfriends of all three of Zachary’s best buddies. If they all look down on me this much, let's hope they don't end up on their knees begging me someday.

On the same day I was admitted into the hospital for my pregnancy, my husband, Charles Page, received 108 missed calls on his phone. It was from Sue, his mentee, a girl who had cancer. I asked if he was going to pick up, and he replied impatiently, "All she does is call me all day! Doesn't she have any other family? She's so annoying." Later, that very girl posted a photo of herself on the hospital rooftop, wearing a white dress. The caption said: [If I jump down from here, will I become a butterfly in my next life? Maybe then, everyone won't hate me.] Charles only glanced at the post before chuckling mockingly. "What does she mean, turn into a butterfly? Is she delusional?" But after that, he grew visibly restless, before rushing out and not returning all night. That night, I hemorrhaged and was taken into emergency care. When the nurse asked if I wanted to keep the baby, I looked at the empty space beside me and answered calmly. "No, I don't."

During the long National Day holidays, I planned a Golden Highlands trip for the whole family. I even booked tickets for a luxurious train ride so we could enjoy the scenery. But on departure day, my husband and son vanished. I called my husband. I could hear an airport boarding announcement in the background. My voice trembled. "Where are you?" He panicked and mumbled that the company had an emergency before hanging up. I tried calling again, but the line was busy. The next day, he posted an update on his social media. In the photo, he stood beneath the snowy peaks of Wintercrown with one arm around his old love while the other held our son. The caption read: [If we had been a little braver back then...] A friend commented: [Where is your wife?] I stared at his reply: [She's sick and resting at home.] Three expired train tickets sat on the table as my eyes welled up with tears. A decade of marriage. A pack of lies. It was time to bring it all to a close.

Wrenley moves to Waindale, the place where her mother grew up and where her grandmother still lives. Between the pine trees and above the wet ground, she soon realizes that Waindale is anything but the perfect place she remembers it as. Dark things stalk the woods. Dark things are pulling her in. "I turn on the lamp that's sat on top of my dresser. The pink lampshade makes my room glow with a feminine warmth, and it shines through the glass of my window; a signal so he can find his way home. It's dark out there, so bone-chillingly dark that I nearly fear for him before realizing that he is the greatest danger in those woods."

The rain starts to hit at my window, I can see dull clouds slowly coming over. I frown as I look trying to ease my mind. Again my mood is reflected in the weather outside. I'm still unsure if it is 100% me that makes it happen, but it seems too much of a coincidence for it to not. It isn't often the weather reflects my mood, when it does it's usually because I'm riddled with anxiety or stress and unable able to control my feelings. Luckily its a rarity, though today as I sit looking out of the window I can't help but think about the giant task at hand. Can Iris unlock her family secrets and figure out what she is? A chance "meet cute" with an extremely hot werewolf and things gradually turn upside down. Dark secrets emerge and all is not what it seems. **Contains Mature Content**

Kyra McCauley was absolutely unstoppable on the track, a true superstar with a flawless record - she had never lost a race. With another win just seconds away, it seemed like nothing could stop her, but then disaster struck, a shocking crash that would turn her life upside down and ultimately take it away. She wakes up in another world as Alina Crosswell. She's not a hero, she's a total disappointment. A world where racing is everything, one person's career has been totally ruined. Someone messed with their chances, and now they're known for all the wrong reasons. This is a place where the best machines, tricky politics, and raw power decide who comes out on top. Kyra didn't make it to the top by giving up, she had to fight to stay there. And she didn’t come back just to stay broken. Alina's life has taken a dramatic turn, now that she's tied to a mysterious System that constantly evaluates her, trains her, and drives her to exceed human capabilities. Each race is a challenge, every rival a potential danger, and every win a step closer to reclaiming what's rightfully hers. In a world where speed and power go hand in hand, and corruption is everywhere, trying to rise to the top again is like putting a big target on your back - it's a sure way to attract unwanted attention. Especially his. Ryker Thorne, the undefeated number one racer. Cold. Calculated. Untouchable. A man who respects only strength and sees failure as a weakness… until Alina Crosswell begins to defy every rule he believes in. She looks like a failure to the rest of the world, just trying to get by. To the System, she is the perfect candidate for evolution. To her rival “zaria brakes” She's a threat.

I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years. Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting. On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples. Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard. Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?] Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples. I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.] Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!" I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him. Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me. Fast-forward three years. Business summit. He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in. "Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"

My once best friend posted a photo on her social media account on the tenth anniversary of my marriage. In the photo, her daughter and my son were wrapped in my husband's and her arms. The caption said, 'The perfect pair.' I commented, 'Perfect indeed.' Soon, the post was deleted. The next day, my husband rushed home and asked me, "Sophie is finally recovering. Why are you provoking her?" My son even pushed me and accused me, "It's all your fault for making Tammy cry." I took out the divorce papers and threw them in their faces. "Well, it's my fault, so I quit your perfect family of four."

There’s always a saying in the married world. “Love endures all.” And I’ve always believed that lie. I’ve always fantasized that Andrea would someday understand what I felt about him. That if I endured a little longer, he would be kind to our children. I always hoped that we could end up happy. But I was wrong. It was all an illusion. Being in a cold and loveless marriage alone was pain. But being disrespectful toward me with my sister and treating our kids like they didn’t matter, was hell. Andrea and I had been married for three years without warmth. His intended bride was supposed to be my step-sister, Lily. But it all came crashing down after a night of a drugged encounter that led to pregnancy. He was forced to choose me instead of my step-sister. Stupid me, I fell in love with him anyway. Even when I knew that he was having a thing with her. Even when he chose to humiliate me. I still believed I held a place in his heart. Until he threw a divorce agreement to my face. Tired and fed up with my cold and miserable life, I left with my kids. Guess what? I found my Mr. Right. A man who always stood by me. A man who my children proudly called Dad. Look who’s curling on their knees now?

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"