Social Temperature

A week before summer break, my boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart threw a fit, insisting on going to Tanond to watch a strip show. She even convinced our entire class to go with them. I kept warning them that it was not safe, that it could be some kind of new scam, and begged them not to go. When they refused to listen, I secretly reported it to the police. On the day of their departure, the police stopped them right at customs. A few days later, a male stripper suddenly went viral overnight. When she found out about it, she got so furious her eyes turned red. “It’s all Zoey’s fault! If it weren’t for her, we could’ve seen an international superstar's strip show!” On the first day we went back to school, they drugged me and made ten men teach me how to dance. “Didn’t you stop us from watching a strip show? Then you can perform one for us yourself.” The next day, my photos of strip show were all over social media. After that, I jumped off a building out of despair. When I opened my eyes again, it was once again the day his little sweetheart demanded that trip to Tanond.

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

A video of my boyfriend proposing to his secretary makes it to the trending topics. Everyone squeals over how romantic and touching it is. His secretary even posts on social media, "I've waited so long for you to appear, and I'm glad I didn't give up. I'll leave my life in your hands, Mr. Emerson." One of the comments goes, "God, this is so sweet. A CEO and his secretary—I ship them!" I don't weep or cause a fuss. Instead, I close the webpage and ask my boyfriend for an explanation. That's when I hear him talking to his friends. "I didn't have a choice. She would've been forced to marry someone she doesn't love if I didn't help her." "What about Vicky? She's your actual girlfriend. Aren't you afraid of her getting mad?" "So what if she is? She's been with me for seven years—she can't live without me." Later, I have my wedding on the same day as his. Our cars drive past each other, and I exchange bouquets with his secretary. When he sees me, he breaks down.

Everyone knew that Aria Jackson had loved Larry Spencer for years. The usually obedient Aria got tattoos for him, broke rules for him, and even moved to a foreign city for him. But when she fell into the lake and he rescued her rival instead, leaving her soaking and miserable, her heart finally shattered completely. The man who came after Larry held her protectively in his arms and suggested with a gentle laugh, "Miss Jackson, have you considered teaching your ex-husband a lesson?" She promptly filed for divorce and married Archer Duncan, the heir to the Duncan empire and the powerful CEO of Duncan Industries. That evening, their marriage certificate was posted on social media. The typically aloof Larry finally showed his desperation, begging her not to marry Archer and then turning to threaten him, "You think she loves you? She's just using the Duncan family's wealth and connections!" Archer simply tightened his arm around her waist and replied calmly, "So what? Fortunately, I have both in abundance." What no one knew was that Aria had been Archer's carefully laid plan all along. He had deeply loved this rose from the beginning—he admired her ambition and was eager to support her boldness and independence.

Lihim sa mga kabanda ni Jhonel Hosoda ang relasyon niya sa co-singer sa dating pinagtatrabahuan niya sa Japan, not until he proposed to Akime, upang matanggap lamang ang rejection mula rito. Ang matagal niyang pinaghandaan at inasam ay nasira sa isang sandali lang. Ngunit kung bakit sa gitna ng pag-iwan ni Akime sa kanya ay biglang may isang babaeng nais pumalit sa ex-girlfriend niya para maging asawa. Sa labis na awa at concern ay inalok ni Laceyleigh ang kamay niya kay Jhonel para siya na lang ang pakasalan nito, pero sa halip ay pinagtawanan siya. But her guts reached to its next level. She kissed him, and then... he kissed her back! Mula niyon ay umiwas na siya rito. Sadyang mapagbiro lang ang tadhana dahil sa kagagawan ni Jhonel ay nag-viral sa social media ang pictures niya, hindi dahil sa gusto siya nitong makita kundi para mabawi ang engagement ring na ninakaw niya. Mahanap pa kaya muli nila ang isa’t isa?

SIS (Social Issue Series) #1: Objectifying WomenOver protectiveness of boyfriends are often romanticized as cute and caring nowadays. To the point that some ladies fail to live their lives to the fullest just to satisfy their men's insecurities and the likes. Pero kung ikaw si Nayeli Reese P. Eusebio, you'll probably say that you've had enough of those kinds of bullshit. Nari had been deprived of a normal life for her 17 years of existence. She never had a chance to step out of the four corners of their house and experience what common people usually do due to unfortunate circumstances that involves her personal family issues. So when she had the opportunity to finally get out from that nightmare, she promised herself, and her brother that wishes her nothing but happiness, that she will bring out the best in her as she strives to achieve her goals.But when Colton Jace R. Octavio gets into the picture, Nari felt things that she never felt before. Unexplainable feelings that are enough to confuse and distract her from her goals. Colton's dream was just to grow old with her while Nari's was for them to grow individually together. When love gets in the way of your dreams, is it possible to grow with the flow?

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

I, Ginny Tremaine, have a written agreement in my mate contract with Tyler Kingsley, the chairman of the Werewolf Council. As long as I proposed to him 99 times first, he promised to personally show up at the Office of Werewolf Mate Affairs on the 100th time and complete our marking ceremony. However, Tyler doesn't show up on the promised day and instead appears on the main stage of the Silvernight Music Festival with his lover, Vivian Lowe. In the livestream watched by the entire pack, he leans down and kisses her so intimately that it's practically a declaration of ownership. The social media networks instantly erupt with excitement. "#ChairmanOfTheWerewolfCouncilOfficiallyRevealsMate." "Chairman of the Werewolf Council caught kissing his lover and showing PDA." At the same time, I become a trending search for standing in front of the Mate Affairs office for the 100th time. Everyone speculates about the identity of the mystery man who never showed up and wonders if I will try for a 101st proposal. Tyler, likely feeling guilty, promises me the next day, "Next time, I promise I'll be there on time." He arrives in a crisp suit with papers in hand, standing outside the Mate Affairs office. But all he receives is a short message from me, saying, "Alpha Tyler, there won't be a 101st proposal. We're truly over."

“Any conversation we're going to be having is going to be in the four corners of my wall and after that, I'd love and appreciate it if you forgot my name, home address and social security number— if you have that, of course.” “Cute,” he laughs and then winces when I open the drink can with a pop. I raise a brow at him, urging him to continue and then take a sip of my drink as I wait patiently. “ Contrary to what you may think, I'm not here to hurt you or whatever it is you're thinking —” “No shit.” “I'm here to offer you a deal. One I know you wouldn't be able to refuse.” “Sure, Professor Xavier.” This is getting fun and it's the most fun I've had in a few days. “Marry me.” ********** I had a one night stand with a handsome, enigmatic stranger. It was drunk decision; one I promised myself never to indulge in. Putting aside my regret, I continue with life and the trials it keeps throwing my way. As a girl used to surprises, what I don't expect is seeing this stranger from months ago at my doorstep and offering me a deal I can't seem to refuse: a marriage contract in exchange for my biggest wishes to be fulfilled.