Sidelined Novels & Stories

Violet replied. Noah turned to me. "This is the time you pick sides. Just know that if you don't pick my side you're walking to the party." And if you pick mine, you get to stay and rest,"Violet added with a devious smirk. Smart lady! "Hmm, decisions,decisions," I teased, tapping my chin. "You're taking too long," Noah whined. "You're just afraid she'll pick my side," Violet laughed.

I know full well it isn’t. I reach instinctively toward the small side table for my phone. My fingers brush nothing. Right. No personal devices. No external communication. Blackthorn Sovereign Academy severs outside contact upon arrival. Isolation is part of the conditioning. For the first time in years, I am unreachable. The realization is subtle and deeply unsettling. I left everything sorted, all systems streamlined and my aunt can handle the rest. But the fact I can't control the flow is gnawing at me fiercely. I stand up.

“Not again.” Sid squeezes my hand. “Hey. You’re not out yet. Suspensions can be lifted. And if they don’t…” She leans in, eyes fierce. “Then it’ll be their loss. Because you’re going to shine one way or another.” The words settle over me like a small, fragile comfort. Maybe she’s right. But right now… I’m just scared this is another thing I’m going to watch from the sidelines. And I’m so, so tired of being on the sidelines.

And that was the only way Lila wouldn't be called to the bar. --You talk yeah. -You are now married to her and that is the only thing that could prevent you from being incarcerated. You have committed murder. -It was self-defense. -You don't believe it yourself. He was her boyfriend, and they'll prove it was a crime of passion. -But no, Lila and I had no relationship whatsoever apart from work. -Yes it serves as the cover pages of your books which are sold by millions to the largest production company in the country and more across the continent. And after ? Do you think people will swallow this?

“What?” “Ah-ah-I’m sup-ssssss-ssssssss-sup-supposed t-t-t-t-t-t-t-to ssss-st-sstay w-w-wi-“ I mentally cursed my inability to properly speak as Soren cut me off abruptly. “Look, I’ve got my orders and I don’t have time to listen to your stuttering mess of whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

After my sister was born, my mother's love turned into a game decided by a coin toss. Mom had a custom gold coin made: the flower side stood for my sister, and the number side stood for me. For ten years, that coin decided who got the bigger slice of cake, who got a new dress, and even who went to the doctor when we were sick. But the number side never once landed face up. I cried, because none of it was fair, and Mom just looked at me coldly and said, "Your luck is worse than hers. Who are you going to blame for that?" The day my acceptance letter from the elite prep school arrived, all I wanted was a steak cooked by Mom. So I secretly swapped in a rigged coin engraved with a number on both

Get dressed. > The corporate shield cracked open instantly, a cold wave of adrenaline completely vaporizing the residual warmth of the bed. The survival instinct that had kept Liam afloat through years of financial instability roared to life. This wasn’t just a PR hitch anymore. This was the final, devastating collapse of his athletic foundation. If the residency was canceled, his stipend would default, his ice time would be revoked, and his entire career would be relegated to the scrap heap before the national selectors even finalized their brackets.

STATUS: SECURE ISOLATION ACTIVE via PORT_TERMINAL_01. My fingers tightened around the aluminum frame until my knuckles turned a sharp, bloodless white. I swiped up frantically, trying to bypass the secondary administrative security wall to open my freelance studio's client database, my email app, or even a basic outgoing cellular line. Nothing registered. Every single diagnostic loop returned the exact same result. He had cut me off from the world. He had built an electronic containment bubble around my life under the guise of an operational safety directive.

Why must this be so hard? “I didn’t see you after Ying Yang’s funeral.” “Yeah, I, uh, I left early. I couldn’t see her like that.” “I know what you mean. It was definitely hard.” I sighed, deciding to bite the bullet. “Aaden, I miss our friendship.” “You aren’t the only one, but I don’t think we can be friends.” His words were like a sucker punch to my stomach, and instinctively, I placed my hands over it protectively. I couldn’t say anything. I could only stare at him. I swallowed the lump in my throat and attempted to speak, but no sound came out.

"Ms. Warner, Mr. Wynn has been in a car accident. His mother is also in the hospital with a serious illness. Would you like to go see them?" I hesitated for a moment, but then I thought about everything I had been through, and I let the softness pass. "Is his life in danger?" "He was drunk driving and crashed through a guardrail off a cliff. He barely survived. The doctors say there's a strong chance he'll never walk again. Fiona was in the car with him. She still hasn't regained consciousness, and the doctors believe that even if she does wake up, she'll likely be in a vegetative state."