Romans & histoires One Sided Stories

I pulled my jacket tighter—not because I was cold, but because fabric is the polite thing you keep between yourself and everyone who feels entitled to touch you. Somewhere along the line I learned that stories make people soft. Tell them a sad backstory and they soften toward you. Tell them nothing and they sharpen into curiosity that can be just as dangerous. I’ve toyed with both tactics. Tonight I was sticking with nothing. Silence was warmer than conversation.

The goal was to create a powerful multimedia campaign that would resonate with the public and remind them why this fight was worth it. As they gathered stories, Alex was struck by the profound impact of the narratives. One story came from a single mother who had lost her job due to corrupt practices in her local government. Another was from a small business owner who had been squeezed out of opportunities by a rigged system. Each account painted a vivid picture of how corruption affected real lives, igniting Alex’s passion for justice.

She also got to know him better and had moments where they accidentally came close. He was very sweet and caring but Elissa couldn't accept that. She couldn't accept his affection and care towards her. She knew he had feelings for her which she wanted he shouldn't. She came up with the decision to tell him about her being a single mother. She thought that after he knows that she was a single mother, he would take a step back and stop pursuing her.

Though I always knew they were biased toward Felix, I never expected that I was so worthless in their eyes. After all these years, even if they didn't love me, they should at least have known me. With my personality, how could I ever do something so despicable? How could I possibly joke about life and death just for the sake of competing for attention? As they each took turns comforting Mom, she straightened up and regained her usual domineering posture. "Tomorrow morning, I'll go to the hospital myself to expose their lies. If Sean's not in the morgue, I'll break his legs myself! And that nurse will be fired."

"Is it that obvious? Everyone is just... staring. I feel like I’m walking around with a giant price tag on my forehead. People are literally whispering my father’s medical history in the hallways." "Ignore them," Jonathan said. He leaned in a little closer, looking at her with a kind of warmth that made it hard for her to swallow. "To everyone out there, you’re just a news story. But to me? You’re just the girl who won’t stop talking about old weird artists. " Lucy let out a small laugh. "Hey, someone has to stand up for those artists. Everyone thinks they’re weird, but they’re just misunderstood." "They’re dramatic," Jonathan teased with a grin, flipping open their project folder. "Just lik

ANDY’S POV I block my face from the sun with my hand as I step out of Kelani’s News Company. It is the biggest News Company here in Texas and I knew they would want to take my story. I had gone to two others earlier today and I had agreed to do an interview by next week, if Drake wants to play the power game, then it’s game on. I climb into the car and Angela hands me a small bag of food and I take a peek inside.

"Didn't you hear? My son told you to get lost! You're nothing but a shameless homewrecker. How dare you show your face here!" The two she-wolves started fighting, throwing the room into chaos. Exchanging a glance, Mom and Dad helped me up and took me away from there. By the time Walter managed to break free from the fight and chase after us, we had already driven off. Upon returning home, I had a thorough discussion with Mom and Dad before reaching a difficult decision. This pup had been conceived out of betrayal and lies, so I couldn't keep them. I wanted to get an abortion. Later on, Walter somehow seemed to have learned about my decision. He stormed over to my house and started banging on

"And most of that is already gone before I even earn it." He didn't offer pity. I liked him for that. He just nodded slowly. "The cycle. You work to live, and you live to work, and you wonder when the 'living' part is actually supposed to start." "Exactly," I whispered. For the next hour, the world outside the diner ceased to exist. The rain turned into a downpour, drumming against the roof. I stopped pretending to work, and he stopped pretending he was just there for the coffee. He told me he’d just closed a deal that would put his name on another skyscraper, but he said it with as much excitement as someone describing a grocery list. He mentioned a divorce, a "public one," he called it.

"I don't think so. I just need you both to actually listen, all the way through, before either of you says anything." They exchanged a glance, that old twin language I'd grown so used to reading, and nodded in unison. "I spent five years," I began slowly, "building an entire identity around a single story. The girl who survived. The girl whose savior would someday come find her and make all of it make sense. I didn't realize how small that story actually was until I met both of you and watched it explode into something far bigger, far messier, and considerably more honest than anything I'd ever let myself imagine."