Last Song From Pitch Perfect Novels & Stories

"And I'll make it quick." "So you admit it?" Bianca's voice trembled. She needed to hear it one last time. "The pills you gave me... they were poison?" Matteo dropped the act. He sneered. "So what if they were? You think I was actually interested in you?" His voice dripped with contempt. "You were just a tool. A useful one. Now the tool is broken. So it has to be destroyed." Just then— CRASH! The front door of the penthouse flew off its hinges.

He continued, “If everyone takes it seriously…” I didn’t hear him out and directly hung up. Rooted to the spot, Lysander looked momentarily awkward, but he quickly concealed and suppressed his emotions. When countless microphones and cameras swarmed toward him, he remained composed, offering a practiced smile. “Seraphina was just joking. Please bear with her.” Elara’s fiancé suddenly called a halt, and the engagement banquet was abruptly interrupted and brought to an end. As Elara lifted her skirt to step into the Maybach, Lysander was calling me. The line rang, but I didn’t answer.

Tears brim his eyes and the last question comes out in a shaky breath. My tears stream down my face for the millionth time today. The round diamond sparkles spectacularly like the stars in the night sky. It's absolutely stunning. All the pain and suffering have led us to this moment. This moment in time where we can finally accept that nothing will stand in our way and nothing will ever tear us apart. We are it for each other forever. "Yes," I whisper. The End

I fought back, I'm not naive I just don't want to assume things and I also don't want to make things complicated so it's better to keep silent for things like that. "Fine, fine whatever you said. But don't ignore this one. You'll get a jackpot if he finds the unique in you" Aria insisted. "Who, Enzo? Come on Aria, let's not think about it. I just hope they'll forget about what they read in your diary" I said and sat beside her again. I wished they did forget about that, but I got it all wrong. Because they spread that news to everyone so fast, spreading like wildfire!

She answered in a whisper, not wanting Ian to notice the effect of her words. They danced to more songs and continued drinking. He is whiskey, and she, margaritas. The night passed quickly. Between drinks, and glances that said more than what their mouths expressed. “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed, looking at his cell phone. “It's late, I have to go”. Ian looked at his wristwatch, it was indeed twenty past two in the morning, but he didn't want it to end either. “Did you bring a car?” he asked curiously.

"Melissa, are you asleep? Don't wait up. I've got stuff to handle, and I won't make it home tonight. "Just use one of those forgiveness cards, okay? I'll bring you some pastries tomorrow. I have to go, bye." He hung up before I could even respond, leaving me with a dial tone. I set the phone down, a bit too hard, and knocked over a cup. Our engagement cup, the one we made together, shattered into two. Maybe it was a sign that our relationship was broken beyond repair. I opened the messenger and clicked on Walter's picture. [Didn't get to say this earlier, but I'm out of forgiveness cards.]

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie

"Logan, will you only be satisfied after you've driven me to my death? Harley Brooks is leaving for Toronto soon. After this, we'll never have another chance to see each other. I'm only going to see him off as his professor. Is that wrong too?" Her phone rang unexpectedly. When she answered, her voice turned impossibly gentle. "Okay, wait for me. I'll be there in half an hour." Before leaving, Leighton tossed the divorce papers into the trash. "We'll discuss when I get back. But don't even think about a divorce." She slammed the door so hard it echoed. Inside the room, only the sound of my own sobbing remained. I'd already checked. There were no flights to Toronto tonight. Sure enough, not l

As she flipped open the cap and inhaled the light floral scent, she found herself humming "Love is a Battlefield." By the time she stepped out of the shower a few minutes later, she'd graduated from humming to belting it out at the top of her lungs. She paused only long enough to wrap her hair in a towel. Grabbing another towel off the rack, she headed for her bedroom. It wasn't until she opened the bathroom door that she heard the phone ringing. For a brief second, she contemplated letting the machine get it, but Jessica might have forgotten something.

Dangerously softly. The pianist shifted songs again. This time Perfect — Ed Sheeran. Instrumental piano only. Slow enough to feel intimate instead of dramatic. Alvara smiled faintly when she recognized it. “You planned everything.” “Yes.” “That’s terrifying.” “I planned contingency routes too.” “I hate that I believe you.” I finally smiled properly then. Small. Real. She looked at me for a second longer. “What’s going on tonight?” There it was. The question. I looked at her.