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“Mila, you’re a saint!” Then, he pulled out his phone. “Look at the group chat. It’s exploding!” The group name had been changed to ‘Care and Support of the Clown Werewolf King,’ and it was flooded with merciless mockery. Someone had photoshopped Sarek’s face with clown makeup and captioned it: [So I came after. I’m a homewrecker.] There were even meme videos titled, “The Werewolf King’s Breakup Survival Guide.” Louis laughed so hard his whole body shook. “Hahaha! That’s brutal!”

The employee was on edge, but Seth cut him off with a sharp tone before he could finish. "What are you talking about? Over a hundred cancellations?" He stepped forward and grabbed the employee by the collar. "Is there some mistake? These customers paid deposits. Why would they all cancel at once?" Lily pushed her way in, fixing a hard gaze on the employee. "There's got to be a mistake. Check it again! "Is this some kind of sick joke? Someone pretending to be a customer just to mess with us?"

My vapidness would love to smack some sense in him. ‘Cheers!’ Another wrote with clinking glasses. His teeth would look better on the ground or better as toppings. ‘Can I have some?’ The following goes on. I'd like to have some of your arteries too. ‘Cheap drunks!’ You think you can afford the cheap in the wildest of your dreams. The netizens had a gala day sharing memes amongst themselves. I have become a laughingstock. It ranges from hilarious to disgustingly vulgar. For what? For outspeaking and spitting facts at a jerk's face. For standing up by the side of a vampiress who is forced to become his sex slave. For having opinions that do not reconcile. For wanting to be admired.

I remain silent during this process, still not sure what to think about this situation. “Oh, this isn’t good.” Axel exclaims, checking his phone. “I have an alert, the police are looking for a fugitive with telekinetic abilities who may be able to identify a high-risk Abnormal known as a ‘Mimic’.” He looks confused and turns to Myah, “Do you know what a Mimic is?” He asks. She doesn’t show any reaction but simply states; “I can’t think of anything relating to that, CC?” Myah looks towards her sister for a further response,

"You must be joking, Ms. Crane," I said. "As long as the project goes smoothly, who cares if you two drink from the same glass? Even if you set off on your honeymoon right here, right now, I'd be the first to applaud. In fact, I wish you two a lifetime of happiness. May you have lots of children." The moment I finished speaking, the taunting look on Ian Lewis' face froze. The wine glass he was holding hovered awkwardly midair, and he didn't know whether to withdraw it.

I rolled over, got out of bed, and turned on my computer to begin organizing the Anderson family’s intelligence plans for the next quarter. Work was the best sleeping pill.

On it was a single number—99. It was the number of times they had let me down over the years. Adrian frowned, unable to make sense of it. He tossed my diary onto the floor and ordered, "Stop writing this nonsense. Nina wants to eat the garlic shrimp you make. Go wash your hands and get downstairs. Consider it an apology for that snarky remark you made to her earlier." I only hummed in response before I got up and headed downstairs. Adrian was surprised that I didn't throw a tantrum. After all, every time my family asked me to make garlic shrimp, I would always cry and whine as if it were some huge injustice.

XOXO ❤️ it's a glitch guys! GOTCHA 🤣

she glanced down at her phone and then at the house number plastered on the sign post in front of the house, a bungalow. The text on her screen and the shiny black ink on the sign read the same number, 42. She had been spooked from the very moment the text had popped up on her screen. A text from her anonymous online friend who had introduced himself as a hacker. Backtrack to the day she had met him. Not met him literally. More like met him online. Just a random pop-up notification on her F******k app and suddenly, they were close acquaintances.