Melodramatic

On April Fool’s Day, my CEO husband cut out my heart to save his childhood sweetheart's son. After the surgery, he tossed me into a cold rental apartment, where I died in agony. Three days after my death, my five-year-old daughter played in the room as usual. Walking by the sofa, she wrinkled her little nose and mumbled, "Mommy, there's a weird smell in here." She touched my face and murmured, "Mommy, are you pretending to be Snow White? Why are you so pale?" She shook my arm harder and raised her voice, "Mommy, it's my birthday today—get up and blow out the candles!" Confused, she picked up the phone and called her father. “Daddy, did I make Mommy mad? I lit the candles, but no matter how much I call her, she won’t wake up.” On the other end of the call, Patrick Hart’s voice was cold and impatient. “What could possibly be wrong with her? She’s just pretending to be asleep for sympathy. It’s Johnny’s birthday, I’m busy. Don’t bother me! Tell your melodramatic mother to stop playing her little tricks. I don't have time to humor her." My daughter removed the candle from her bun, pinched off a piece of the bun, and fed it to me. "Mommy, I made a secret wish… I really wish you could hold me again, just like before."

Best of friends dying one by one...maybe one of them is the culprit? Changing bodies, surviving high school, and brewing drama—staples in the lives of six friends in just another, normal, adolescent-fuming high school in the countryside, but all is shattered when they start dying one by one. A campy rendition of a classic whodunnit, The Midnight Club Murders offers fast-paced storytelling with plot acrobatics, melodramatic conversations, and suspenseful hills to absolutely DIE on, just waiting for you.

After serving five years in prison for Luke Dashwood, I walked out a free man… only to be handed divorce papers. It turned out his first love was terminally ill, and the dude's final wish was to become his family before he died. Swallowing my grief, I signed my name on the divorce papers. But when I reappeared hand in hand with another man, panic flashed across Luke's face. Suddenly, he wanted me back.

When the star pirate, Black Mamba demanded one of us give birth to his child, my older sister didn't hesitate to sacrifice me. I never imagined that after my cruel death and eventual rebirth, she would throw herself into his clutches instead. When I saw that terrible serpentine swelling once more, horrifying memories sent shivers through my body. All I wanted to do was run. But my sister grabbed me by the jaw. "You've been reborn too! I'm going to make you suffer!" I could tell she meant it.

My husband was ruled by his obsessive-compulsive disorder, enforcing rigid schedules that governed our household. On our daughter's birthday, he and his assistant showed up late. The girl, who mirrored her father's need for order, wasn't upset. She just smiled and invited them to cut her cake. My heart shattered as I watched their cream-covered faces and joyful photos. The next day, I handed him the divorce agreement, confusing him. "Just because Edith didn't cut the cake with you?" "Yes."

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

When I was in the early stages of brain cancer, my parents begged me to give my sister one of my kidneys. They also told me to give them the money I had saved for my treatment. When my sister left the hospital, it was her birthday. My parents threw her a party while I lay in a hospital bed trying to get better. Later, when my mom found out I had late-stage brain cancer, she begged my sister to give me a kidney. My sister said no. So, on the day of my funeral, my mom buried both of her kidneys with me.

When my fiance's childhood sweetheart, Jenna Gray, gets assigned to a rural work program, he, Austin Bell, volunteers to go with her for three years. Before leaving, he holds my hand and tells me a promise. "Save up while I'm gone and build our wedding fund. We'll get married as soon as I come back." Save up my ass. The moment he leaves, I start living my best life. A year later, Austin, who's supposed to be miles away in some rural village, shows up at our door with Jenna in tow. They're here to ask for money. What he sees when he walks through the door is me, eight months pregnant, lounging on the couch and watching TV. His hands tremble as he points at my pregnant belly. "I've been away for a year… How are you pregnant?" "You're early. If you'd stuck to the plan and come back by then, the kid would already be old enough to run errands."

The day Bryan Abbott received the World Philanthropist Award, the doctors told me I would not live for long because I could not afford to replace my artificial heart. The TV host asked Bryan to call the person he regretted being with the most. Without hesitation, he dialed my number. I answered the call. Bryan asked, “Do you regret leaving me for money back then?” Staring at the astronomical bill for the artificial heart, I chuckled softly, “Bryan, you’re so rich now. Could you lend me $200,000?” The call cut off abruptly. I watched as Bryan icily said on TV, “Now, I have no regrets.” He did not know that back when his heart had failed, I had donated mine to him secretly so that he could live.

Disaster struck during my sophomore year.  Not only did my family fall into poverty, I ended up getting diagnosed with cancer as well. I was so broke that I only had a hundred dollars left to my name. Desperate for cash, I tried to pawn off the family amulet I had been wearing since I was a child. Unexpectedly, the storekeeper of the pawn shop took a glance before refusing it with a curt shake of his head. “This amulet is cursed. Whoever wears it is doomed to lead a short life. I can’t possibly take it.”