Party In Usa Pitch Perfect

After I was reborn, the first thing I did was bind my daughter, Maia Howell, and a seriously sick pig to a pain-transfer system. In my last life, when Maia was born, her skin was covered with sores. This caused her so much pain that she would often cry all night. My husband, Bruno Howell, told me he'd found a pain-transfer system that could save Maia, but it could only bind to another woman. For my daughter, I didn't hesitate—I bound the system and shifted Maia's rotten wounds onto myself. When Maia regained her health, Bruno dragged a stranger to me and said, "Claire is the one I've always loved. The part about the system only binding to women? That was a lie to trick you!" Maia shoved me to the ground in disgust and joined them. "Look at you, all covered in sores—how could you even be my mom? I’ll let you in on a secret. The night your daughter was born, Dad swapped me with her. To make you willingly bind to the system with me, I had to call you 'Mom' for ten years! Makes me sick even thinking about it!" They left me locked in the house to starve to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Bruno was convincing me to bind to the pain-transfer system.

I had just gotten home when a parent in my son’s class group chat erupted: [Ms. Zinn, what kind of place are you running? Do you let just any random stray off the street become a teacher?] [My daughter came home, grabbed two forks, and tried to jump off the balcony. She said it was Miss Never who told her to!] The homeroom teacher panicked and denied it at once, insisting there was no such person as Miss Never at the kindergarten. She even posted the official teaching schedule in the chat to prove it. On the security footage, there was not a single trace of this so-called Miss Never. However, later, my son whispered to me in secret, “Mom, Miss Never is an old lady with a cat’s face.” “She says only kids can see her.”

My family was the wealthiest in River City, with assets worth trillions. On my eighteenth birthday, my brother, Calvin Chester, gifted me an entire jewelry production line while my parents built a private museum and named it after me. The greatest hardship I’d ever faced? Learning how to spend my inheritance. Then I met Dario Darwin. For him, I cut ties with my family and helped him build his empire from scratch. But when I was three months pregnant, he demanded I drink on behalf of his assistant, Fran Fallon, a woman “slumming it” as an intern while secretly being the heiress to another fortune. “Stop pretending,” he sneered. “You’re not like Fran, raised in pampered luxury. You’re older, so act like it and take care of your juniors!” Then, to the clients leering around the table, “My wife’s just being dramatic. She can hold her liquor. Don’t hold back—pour her another!” Amid their jeers, he left with Fran, abandoning me to a room of drunken men. Years of sacrifice, only to be humiliated. I scheduled an abortion and called him. “We’re done.” Through the phone, Fran’s simpering voice chimed in, “It’s my fault that Clea is upset… I should quit and go home to my family’s billions.” “Ignore her. She’s faking it,” Dario cooed back. On the day Dario signed the divorce papers, my parents and Calvin came to take me home. Our marriage came to an end, but his tragedy was about to begin.

A plane crash tore my husband and his twin brother apart. One survived. One did not. When I rushed to the hospital, I saw my brother-in-law, who had just survived the crash, locked in a passionate kiss with his wife. My husband? He lay lifeless in the morgue. Blinded by grief, I stumbled down the stairs…and lost the child I had spent three years longing for. Three years passed. Just as I was finally learning to breathe without him, I overheard a conversation between his closest friend and my brother-in-law: "How long do you plan to keep pretending to be your brother? Alicia is your legal wife." He adjusted his glasses, voice icy and distant. "I swore to my brother I'd protect Emily for the rest of my life. I am him now. As for Alicia… let her be the debt I carry into my next life." That's when I learned the truth. It was the brother-in-law who died in the crash. My husband, the man I had mourned all those years, had taken on his brother's identity to stay by Emily's side, the unattainable woman he had always secretly loved. So then what about me? The woman clinging to old memories, living in torture for three years. What was I to him?

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

My sister-in-law, Maeve Cohen, floored my luxury car and blew past traffic at about 125 mph, killing a family of three. She pretended to be me and acted as if nothing could touch her. "Those idiots walked into my path! It's not my fault they got hit!" she snapped. "I'm the Lincoln Enterprise heiress. Even if I ran, who would dare catch me?" In my last life, Maeve said her husband wasn't home and she needed a car to visit her parents, so she borrowed mine. She ended up racing down the road, plowing into a family crossing the street, and driving back over them to make sure they were dead. The couple had just bought a house. The baby was only a month old. When the victims' family demanded an explanation, she hid behind my reputation and spat venom. "They're just three worthless people! I'm the Lincoln Enterprise heiress; why should I explain myself? Tell them to come to me for funeral expenses!" The grieving family couldn't take it and came to my in-laws' place. "Three worthless people, huh? Today, we'll end you so you can apologize to them in person!" My husband had died the year before. With no one to protect me, the victims' family turned on me, and I was stabbed to death. The valuable wedding gifts my family had given to me became Maeve's overnight. My family tried to appeal for me, but trolls who hated the rich maliciously reported tax problems about my father's company. My father was driven to exhaustion. One night, he fell asleep at the wheel, and the car plunged off a cliff, killing him. Only after I died did I discover it had all been Maeve's plan to ruin us out of spite. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day Maeve took my car and ran into those people.

My mother-in-law, Teresa Hawke, said she was trapped inside her burning villa. I called my husband, Asher Jensen, begging him to save her. But he was too busy at some bar, flirting with his childhood sweetheart, Melanie Lanner. It wasn't until I begged him, over and over, that he finally went to save Teresa. But Melanie was snatched from that same bar, tortured, killed, and dumped. He acted like none of it mattered until I got pregnant. Then out of nowhere, he threw it all back on me, saying it was my fault. Asher pulled every string he could to bankrupt my family, driving Mom and Dad to leap to their deaths. Then he rounded up a gang of violent psychopaths and threw me in with them. I begged again and again, but he just watched me with that dead stare. "You'll suffer like Mel did before she died! She left this world in agony. Why should you get to live? That's not fair." 99 stab wounds—that was how many it took before I finally bled out and died. And then, I woke up, right back on the day Teresa screamed for help from inside that burning villa.

The moment my best friend dashes into the lottery shop ahead of me and rattles off that familiar string of numbers, I know instantly that she has been reborn, too. In my past life, my best friend and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Global 500 company just before graduation. However, there was only one opening available. On the day of the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket, but as a result, I missed the interview, and my best friend got the job. As it turned out, I won the jackpot, totaling 50 million dollars. After graduation, I lived a carefree life, lounging at home and living off the interest. Meanwhile, after entering the company, my best friend was paid little and got bullied every single day. Eventually, she vented her anger on me and shoved me off a rooftop. I died from the fall instantly. After my death, my boyfriend covered for her, twisting the story to claim that I'd gone mad from idling too long and jumped on my own. The two of them fed on my misfortune, becoming influencers with millions of fans and raking in fortune. When I open my eyes again, I am reborn to the very day I bought that lottery ticket.

My younger sister, Rosalie White, and I are twin mermaids, born with the divine gift of bearing sacred beasts. On the day we come of age, Father presents us with all the unmarried princes of the beast clans. Rosalie picks Charles Summer, the powerful prince of the zilant clan, in hopes of birthing a sacred beast and claiming the beast throne. However, her five babies are all dark, frail half-zilants of the lowest rank. I, with my weak and sickly body, join with Jasper Warren of the serpent clan, the most despised of them all. I end up succeeding in giving birth to a sacred beast hatchling. On the day of the coronation, Rosalie refuses to accept it. She strangles my hatchling and rips out my beast core. Then, she throws our bodies into the beast furnace, destroying us completely. … After my reincarnation, I see Rosalie pointing at Jasper and says, "I only want him." I know that she has also been reincarnated. I chuckle coldly. I'd like to see if she can bear a sacred beast in this lifetime.