Novel & Cerita Poems About Male Friendship

Elaine Foster loved to test my love for her. She faked a chronic illness and convinced me to donate blood for her 99 times. When it came for the 100th time, I was already severely anemic. I finally said no. She turned around and used the blood I had given her to make blood sausages for Karl Claflin’s dog. Karl was the most popular guy on campus. Curled up in Karl’s arms, she said to me, “Michael Messner, I was never sick. I only pretended to be, just to see if you really loved me. Unfortunately, you failed the final test. I’m very disappointed. We are done.” I smiled indifferently and walked away without looking back. Five years later, we met again at the top hospital in the country. By then, neither Elaine nor Karl knew that they both had malignant gliomas growing in their brains. I had become the only neurosurgeon in the country capable of successfully removing them. When she saw me in plain clothes, wiping vomit off the hospital floor, she had assumed I was a janitor. She sneered, “Michael, you’d really stoop to anything to run into me, wouldn’t you? You even followed me here. It’s time you faced reality. I’m worth millions now, and you are just a janitor. We are worlds apart. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I did not bother answering. At that moment, I was only thinking about which nurse I would need to speak to for slacking off on the job. Luckily, I had just finished surgery and was going home when I spotted the patient in distress. Otherwise, the patient could have been in serious danger.

At the engagement banquet, Monique Walton is in the middle of telling all the guests and the viewers of the livestream that's taking place about our tale of romance. What she doesn't know is that I have already swapped out the romantic video of our sweet memories for the racy clip of her and Terry Caldwell going at it like rabbits. When the clip is presented on the monitor, everyone falls silent immediately. That's when the live comments on the livestream instantly overwhelm the comment section. Monique turns around in a fluster, the well-maintained smile on her face starting to crack bit by bit. She stumbles toward the control panel, accidentally knocking over the champagne tower in her haste. Amid the chaos, I draw to my feet and walk onto the stage. Then, I pick up the microphone Monique has just dropped. "Everyone, this engagement banquet is officially canceled. From now on, Monique Walton and I are no longer affiliated with each other."

Before the holidays, I visit an authorized car dealership to conduct an inspection. Having noticed that the flowers at the entrance aren't arranged properly, I decide to move them. Suddenly, a man clad in a suit and wears a manager's lapel tosses me a broom haughtily. "You must be the new intern, yeah? Today, the CEO will be conducting an inspection here. You'd better clean every inch of this place meticulously. Even the washrooms must be spick and span!" I don't bother moving an inch. My brows are tangled in a frown as I sink in deep thought. I never told anyone about my arrival today. How did this manager find out about my schedule, to begin with? Upon realizing that I'm not moving, the man hurls a piece of dirty rag at my face immediately. "I'll have you know that I'm your superior here! You can forget about using the Gen-Z workplace techniques on me! "If you slack off one more time, I'll fire you right away!" After graduating from college, I've just started learning the ropes in my family's company for half a year before my dad decides to assign me to a branch company. He even issues me an ultimatum. I'll only get to go home whenever I produce some actual results. Here I am, worried about how I'm going to exert my authority and prove myself to my dad, when the perfect catalyst just comes knocking on my door.

I'm a coward—someone who gets bullied and never fights back, who only swallows the humiliation in silence. That is, until the year I turned twenty. A well-dressed, elegant couple found me and told me I was their long-lost son. Overjoyed, I followed them back to their castle-like home, convinced that I was finally about to live a better life. But on the very first day, the fake heir made it clear—I would never know a moment's peace. I didn't dare say a word. Cowardly as ever, I could only think about ending my life. The first time, I slit my wrists. They saved me. The second time, I tried to jump off a building. My sister dragged me back. The third time, I drank an entire bottle of pesticide—and still didn't die. … My family finally saw through the fake heir's true color. "So it was you, pulling the strings all along!" My sister plead, "Brother dear, I'm begging you—please don't kill yourself."

The hotel calls me on the phone and tactfully reminds me that since I've forgotten to pay for the condoms I've used last night, they've deducted the sum from my VIP card. I'm a little perplexed, to say the least. Last night, I've taken on an overnight shift till late night, so I've never been to the hotel. So, I question my wife, Nyla Burdette, who's the only one that knows about my VIP card number. She just looks at me in confusion. "Honey, it costs over a thousand dollars to spend a night in that hotel! Why would I stay there, to begin with? There must be something wrong with the hotel's system!" I no longer waste my breath on Nyla. My oldest uncle, Eric Fuller, is the investor of that particular hotel, so I call him right away. "Uncle Eric, help me investigate who Nyla has taken to the hotel last night! I want to catch them in the act!"

Three years after I died, Stella, my wife, decided to divorce me and marry her dying ex. She stormed into my old house like she owned the place, forcing me to sign the divorce agreement. Mom told her the truth—I was already gone. Stella rolled her eyes. "Why's he still pretending? Harvey's dying. I just wanna be there for him. What's so wrong about that? If he won't come out, I'm done paying your medical bills." She thought threatening Mom would shake something loose. But what Stella didn't get? Mom had already stopped treatment. She was just hanging on to watch her crack.

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy. May the two of you grow old together!" A year later, a desperate-looking Beverly shows up in front of me, begging that we get back together. Unfortunately for her, her best friend, who was clearly pregnant, steps in with a smile and pushes her aside. "Give it a rest, will you? My husband already has a wife. We can have kids of our own. There's no need for him to be someone's fallback guy."

I've returned to the country on the night of New Year's Eve. At the welcoming party, my girlfriend, Sabrina Monroe, suddenly produces a diamond ring and goes down on one knee. "Although this proposal is delayed by three years, our love is never late. Will you marry me, Colin Lawrence?" All of our friends begin cheering on us. Everyone is practically waiting for me to nod and accept Sabrina's proposal with tears in my eyes. They've completely forgotten about the fact that I prepared a lavish marriage proposal for Sabrina on New Year's Eve three years ago. Back then, she had told me that she'd show up on time. But that night, I was the only one present in a fancy suit. I waited the whole night for Sabrina, and yet she never showed her face. All I received was a phone call. "Matthew has fallen ill. I'm too busy taking care of him, and I can't leave his side at all. Let's put a raincheck on the marriage, yeah?" So, I left the country on New Year and accepted the marriage alliance my family had arranged for me. This means I'm already married to someone else for three years.

“Do you take this woman to be your wife? For richer or poorer, in sickness and health, will you remain faithful to her for the rest of your life?” I looked at Bridget with deep affection and was just about to speak. “Wait!” shouted someone urgently. I turned around in confusion and looked toward the audience. There stood a man holding a baby in his arms. He said pleadingly, “Bridget, our child is hungry… could we pause the wedding for a moment?” Hearing this, everyone erupted in an uproar. It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me. Only then did I realize that Bridget had a child with another man. Bridget hurried off the stage, then turned to me coldly and said, “I only agreed to marry you out of obligation. But the moment Vernon appeared, I knew it. There’s no one else I want to marry but him.” So, she took off the ring and dragged the man away without looking back. I stood alone at the end of the aisle and clutched the undelivered ring in my hand, as a flood of bitterness crashed through every corner of my heart.

I accidentally clicked on a viral post. [What’s one regret that you can’t get over in your life?] Everyone in the comments said things like not studying well or not purchasing a house when it was cheaper. I felt a little bored by it. I was about to scroll past when I accidentally came across a comment with the highest number of likes. The account had a profile picture that was very familiar to mine. [Five years ago, to elope with my first love, I faked my death to leave my husband. [And I used my husband’s research to help my first love kickstart his business. [Now, my first love is a billionaire, and my husband became a butcher.] Some people reprimanded her and her first love in the comment section. Others reminisced about their past. I scrolled to the end of the post and saw the latest reply. [I’m back in the city, and I’ve decided to meet him.]