Story Script の小説・ストーリー

“You scared the poor boy, dude.” That was the first response he got from Damien Lau after he finished telling the whole story. The doctor visited him today, and he served some mineral waters to him. He was just a bachelor who didn’t really care about food at home and only had mineral waters with him. Despite being a bad host, the painter still dared to pour his heart out by telling the story that bothered him since yesterday. Yeah, he had told his friend about his ‘experience’ with his student yesterday.

“We can work on balancing those.” Hannah passed a cup of tea to Elena with an almost apologetic smile, clearly aware of the tension in the room. “Take your time,” she said, gentle. “We’ll go through the points together.” Victoria withdrew another piece of paper that had been tucked behind the schedule. “I’ll also need a quick run-through of your personal story. Media likes human interest angles. We’ll craft a version that supports the foundation’s aims.” Elena’s breath hitched. “My story?” She thought of Ethan’s hospital bed, of the nights she had stood on cold linoleum and counted change, not stories to sell but bills to pay. “I… I’m not sure how to make that into a script.”

~~~~~ "You know it's not cool to stare." I'll admit I've been staring but it's for a good cause, or however you'll put it. It's my attempt to make him talk since I'll obviously not say a word. And it worked. After an hour in my room completely bored out of my mind, I moved to the living room to watch a movie, and apparently I met Ace still on his goddamn phone. "M-me I'm not staring." If my stuttering at first could be ignored, I'll say I'm good at this lying game but of course someone's better.

he said. “I wanted to.” I smiled, pretending not to notice how intense his stare was. “That’s allowed now, right?” A corner of his mouth twitched like he almost smiled. “That’s the idea.” I walked around his desk and leaned over his shoulder slightly. “What are you working on?” “Script evaluations.” He clicked something on the screen. “Deciding what’s worth investing in.” I scanned the open tab. My eyes landed on a story about a girl who becomes a contracted sub for a mafia lord.

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AMARACHI (Amarachi Edwards) "This is the fifth school you're rejecting today." my mum said. She looked really frustrated and stressed. My mum is a single parent. My Dad died when I was still a little child. We just recently relocated from our former house so I had to change school.

she pressed. I took a deep breath, a blush creeping up my cheeks. This wasn't just any story; it felt like the beginning of something special, and I wanted to savour every detail. "Well," I began, pausing for dramatic effect, "it all started with a wrong turn..." A collective gasp from my friends sent chills of excitement down my spine. Leaning in closer, I launched into the story, weaving a tale of a chance encounter, an unexpected connection, and a spark that ignited something beautiful in my life.

"All you have to do is pay him and apologize. It's not like it'll cost you your life." I said nothing and continued staring at her, watching her calculated act. After she delivered her script, tears started dropping down her cheeks. "Cassie, your family is so well off, and you've had everything you could ever want since we were kids. Why can't you show a little consideration for other people? "Your mom and dad gave you the best education, yet you don't have a single shred of empathy. Just think of how disappointed they'll be if they find out what you did."

David sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, nursing a glass of whiskey. It had been a month since the confrontation with Michael, and the silence from his end was more unsettling than any threat. As he stared at the amber liquid, memories of Scarlet flooded his mind. Her voice echoed in his ears: “Thank you, David. Thank you for making me live the best day of my life. You will always be the Prince Charming of my own fairytale.” He whispered to himself, “Stupid girl… why did I let you go?”

Paraiso is my hometown, and I am sure no one can cover the story better than me. “Oh. The problem is that the story has been assigned already,” Stella said. “Who is going to work on it?” Steph said, looking at Robert. She was praying that Stella doesn’t confirm her fears. “I have assigned the story to Robert,” Stella said, and the cup of coffee from Steph’s hands fell. Robert was on his feet in no time picking up the pieces of glass as Stella rushed to Steph’s side, asking her if she was okay. “How can I be okay?” Steph retorted.