Hanging Wedgie Story

“คุณหนูจะกลับเลยมั้ยครับ” “กลับเลย หงุดหงิดมาก” เสียงบ่นของนานี่ที่ดูจะไม่สบอารมณ์ ก่อนที่จะเดินปึงปังขึ้นรถไปโดยมีบอดี้การ์ดส่วนตัวเดินตามไปติดๆ เมื่อกลับมาถึงคอนโด นานี่ก็ล้มตัวลงนอนบนเตียงโดยที่ไม่ได้ถอดแม้กระทั้งรองเท้า “คุณหนูอาบน้ำก่อนดีกว่าครับ เดี๋ยวผมไปเตรียมนมอุ่นให้” “ทีโอ ... นายทำอะไรอ่ะ” นานี่เอ่ยทั้งที่ไม่ยอมลืมตาเมื่อรู้สึกว่าบอดี้การ์ดคู่ใจกำลังทำบางอย่าง บอดี้การ์ดหนุ่มค่อยๆถอดรองเท้าส้นสูงออกจากขาเรียวก่อนจะเดินเอามันไปเก็บที่ชั้นเก็บรองเท้าสุดหรูของนานี่ “นายดูแลฉันดีกว่าเมียอีกเนอะ”

ชายหนุ่มผู้หลงไหลในการเดิมพัน ชีวิตผูกติดกับการเดิมพัน และสังเวียนการต่อสู้ ที่แลกมาด้วย เงิน ชีวิต และหญิงสาว แข็งกร้าวมาตั้งแต่เด็ก ครอบครัวหล่อหลอมให้เขาไม่ยอมใครง่ายๆ แม้จะขาดใจก็ตาม “พี่บาร์อยู่มั้ยค่ะคุณอา” หญิงสาวหน้าหวานเรียบร้อยน่ารัก กำลังเอ่ยทักหญิงวัยกลางคนแม่ของชายหนุ่ม “อ้าวลลิส มากับใครลูก” เรมี่เอ่ยทักขึ้น “พอดีหนูกำลังจะไปเรียนค่ะ แวะเอาขนมมาฝาก” “อ่อจ้า เดี๋ยวอาเก็บไว้ให้บาร์นะ เมื่อคืนไม่ได้กลับบ้าน” “อ่อ งั้นหนูฝากด้วยนะคะ” ลลิส หญิงสาววัย18ที่กำลังจะเรียนจบมัธยมปลาย เธิสดใสสมวัยและไร้เดียงสาเพราะมองโลกในแง่ดี ผลั่ก!!! ผัวะ!!!! เสียงการต่อสู้ซึ่งเกิดขึ้นหลังจากการเดิมพันผิดพลาด ชายหนุ่มที่เลือดอาบแขน อาบตัวเพราะฟาดฟันคนมานับสิบก่อนจะมาถึงห้องนี้ “อย่ามาแตะต้องหนู!!! อย่านะ!!!! หนูสกปรก!!!!”

เมื่อความเย็นชามีผลมาจากคนรักที่จากตาย เมื่อเจอรักใหม่ผลลับจากรักแรกก็มาลงที่รักปัจจุบัน เมื่อพ่อเลี้ยงเดี่ยวต้องเปิดใจอีกครั้ง

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.

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

While visiting a property development with my fiancé to buy our first home, I ran into a two-faced real estate agent.   She showered my fiancé with compliments, praising him for being young and successful enough to afford a Rolls-Royce.   Then, she suggested I was a fake socialite with a knockoff designer bag, implying that I was just using my charms to snag a free house.   When she found out the property was meant to be a marital home, her voice grew loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.   “I just think the sugar daddy who bought you those two properties last time treated you pretty well!” “Oh, wait. Miss Gwen, don’t you have several sugar daddies? Do they all know about each other?”   I chuckled. What she didn’t know was that my “sugar daddies” were my godfathers and I really was a socialite.   The kicker, though, was that my so-called wealthy fiancé wasn’t rich at all. In fact, he was just a scholarship student I had been financially supporting!

My husband has asthenospermia, so we decide to try IVF. Before the embryos are combined, I catch my husband switching my ovum out for his true love's. I don't say anything and switch them back. At the same time, I switch my husband's sample out for my ex-boyfriend's. 25 years later, my husband's true love comes knocking. She holds my daughter's hands and weeps while saying, "I'm your mother, my darling!"