Keep Rock N Roll Artinya

Dad has a stroke and needs money to save his life. I'm left with no choice but to borrow money from my secret CEO boyfriend of five years. Before I can even say anything, he frowns and tells me he's busy. Then, he hurries off to attend his childhood sweetheart's birthday celebration. He only remembers me the following day. "What did you need?" I hold Dad's death certificate and smile wanly at him. "Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that we're over."

Five years after we broke up, my ex bought the company I worked for and suddenly became my direct boss. The project plan I'd stayed up nights working on—nearly killing myself to finish—was handed to someone else without a word. My teammates were split apart, and I became his go-to example when he wanted to tear someone down. I was the laughingstock of the office. Shawn Lubbard said it was the price I had to pay for betraying him. Finally, I asked him what it would take for him to leave me alone. His reply? "Only if you die." Feeling crushed, I drove a knife into my chest right in front of him. Maybe this terrible life should have ended long ago.

With a small thump, the seat beside the solitary guy became occupied. “Yo.” “Hi.” “Want a gum?” “No.” “Suit yourself.” “Hmm.”

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

I'm a wedding dress designer, and one day before the finals of the Bridal Queen Tournament, explicit photos of me are posted all over the internet. Countless people accuse me of defiling the concept of love. They say I don't deserve to make wedding dresses, and in the end, I'm disqualified from the tournament. The photos can only come from one person—my boyfriend, Felix Evans. On the verge of a breakdown, I seek him out for answers. But right before I walk through the door, I hear him having a conversation with his twin, Leon Evans. "As expected, the netizens sank their teeth into Dahlia the moment the photos were posted online. I'm guessing that she's going to be blacklisted by the entire fashion industry too. There's no way she can compete against Sylvia for the title of Bridal Queen anymore." "Does this mean I can't pretend to be you and sleep with her anymore? Truth be told, she's pretty good in bed. She's pure, but she's also seductive." "You should take advantage of the situation and sleep with her as much as you want then. Once Sylvia wins the title of Bridal Queen, I'm going to cut ties with Dahlia completely and officially pursue Sylvia." Listening to their casual conversation, I feel like a sharp blade is being ruthlessly stabbed into my heart. I don't know how I got home. After sitting in a daze the entire night, I call a studio overseas and tell them, "I'll be joining you in three days."

My name is Brandon Westin, and I'm Carlisle Grayson's secretary and secret lover. No matter how cold he acts toward me, how much he humiliates me, or how often he "lends" me off to other people, I still choose to stick with him without any remorse or complaints. His friends call me a shameless lapdog. Carlisle calls me a twink, often blaming me for "turning him gay" and thus ruining his life. However, when I finally choose to leave him, he looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and asks, "How can you say that you don't love me?"

My husband's childhood sweetheart kills my parents in an accident due to drunk driving. I want to call the police, but my husband blindfolds me and takes me to the cellar. I'm tormented and subjected to inhumane treatment for the next three years. After each torture session, an icy male voice will ring out in my ear. "Do you still hate her, Sabrina?" One day, I finally cave and submit to the icy voice. "No, I don't. I don't hate her anymore!" I hear my husband's joyous laughter on the other end of the line. On the day he welcomes me out of the cellar, I avoid his embrace. Yet he loses his mind when I ask him for a divorce.

William Graham and Jasmine Spencer had been at odds since they were kids. But that year, fate played a trick on them—out of all the eligible matches in their circle, only the two of them were left. William swore he would rather die than marry Jasmine. That piqued her interest. She said, "Great. Then I guess I'm definitely marrying you. Go ahead and drop dead." On their wedding day, William humiliated her by releasing dozens of chickens at the ceremony. With a flat look, Jasmine picked one up and called it "Darling". Just like that, William lost all interest in the joke. He looked at the woman who insisted on marrying him and sneered. "You'll regret this." Three years into the marriage, Jasmine caught William cheating for the ninety-ninth time. It was only then that she finally understood— So this was the kind of regret William had meant.

On the day Fiona Starr and Mark Zimmer tied the knot, his childhood friend jumped off the Starr family's thirty-story apartment and was reduced to pieces. The wedding wasn't called off, but in the ensuing three years, Mark's poker face became even more creepy, even though he would do everything Fiona asked. Then, when Fiona was three months pregnant, she was told that her father had gone missing. But instead of taking her to file a police report, Mark took her up the peak of the mountain, where Fiona saw her father. His whole body was swollen and bleeding everywhere, and he was barely alive as he lay on the ground. There were puddles of his blood everywhere, after someone tied him to a car trunk and dragged him up along the mountain road. That was when Mark gave Fiona the same treatment, even though she was pregnant with his child. As his car dragged her up and down the mountain, her legs were reduced to bloody stumps, but she didn't die there. So she locked her up in a basement in the company of rats that nibbled and devoured her legs. She despaired, her mind breaking until she eventually stopped breathing too… But she opened her eyes again and found herself returning to the day before she married Mark, whom everyone called the Starr family's live-in son-in-law. Smiling through her tears, she told herself that she wouldn't choose him again in this life.

The wedding had barely started when the lights went out. Then came the moans—from the giant screen behind the altar. Hailey froze. Her skin went ghost-pale. Her whole body shook. A beat later, the doors slammed open. Leading the charge? Nolan. Cold eyes, sharp suit, and bodyguards in tow. He stormed the stage. The groom tried to stop him. Big mistake. Nolan's guys dropped him in seconds. Nolan grabbed a fistful of the groom's hair and yanked his head back. "Heh. I've slept with Hailey hundreds—maybe thousands—of times. Used condoms alone could fill your house. Wanna see the HD vids?" Hailey's eyes locked on Nolan, pure hate. She'd been his kept woman for eight years. He loathed her family. He loathed her. Swore she'd never know peace. Then she disappeared—and he lost his mind.