Played for Fools: Our Unstoppable Wedding

Played for Fools: Our Unstoppable Wedding

Gavin

5.0
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For seven years, I, the lead singer of "Static Bloom," harbored a secret love for our infuriatingly talented guitarist, Jack. Thanksgiving night was supposed to be our night, with his brother Noah also nursing a long-standing crush on my ex-best friend, Olivia. But neither Jack nor Olivia showed up where they were supposed to be. My phone buzzed with an Instagram notification, then a shared post appeared: Jack and Olivia, arms around each other, announcing, "Finally making it official. Happy Thanksgiving! ❤️" The photo, five years old, shattered my world, confirming years of their secret relationship and calculated deception. Jack, who'd recycled love songs for me, and Olivia, who'd used Noah as her dutiful admirer, saw us as naive pawns in their cruel game. Olivia later messaged, gloating and asking if I was "happy" for them, while Jack dismissed my seven years of devotion as "intense." Noah and I met, numb with betrayal, realizing how deeply and deliberately we had been played, their arrogant triumph stinging more than the heartbreak. The sheer audacity of their lies, the way they'd used our unwavering affection as a smokescreen for half a decade, burned with an unbearable injustice. How could they have been so cold, so manipulative, while we poured our hearts out? They truly believed they had won, that they were clever escaping the messy entanglements of their own making. Then, amidst the ashes of our shared misery, Noah looked at me, a wild glint in his eye, and dropped the bomb: "Let's get married, Emily." It was reckless, insane, gloriously petty, and the perfect chaotic revenge. To give them a surprise they wouldn't expect, we decided to tie the knot, turning betrayal into our most unexpected love story.

Introduction

For seven years, I, the lead singer of "Static Bloom," harbored a secret love for our infuriatingly talented guitarist, Jack.

Thanksgiving night was supposed to be our night, with his brother Noah also nursing a long-standing crush on my ex-best friend, Olivia.

But neither Jack nor Olivia showed up where they were supposed to be.

My phone buzzed with an Instagram notification, then a shared post appeared: Jack and Olivia, arms around each other, announcing, "Finally making it official. Happy Thanksgiving! ❤️"

The photo, five years old, shattered my world, confirming years of their secret relationship and calculated deception.

Jack, who'd recycled love songs for me, and Olivia, who'd used Noah as her dutiful admirer, saw us as naive pawns in their cruel game.

Olivia later messaged, gloating and asking if I was "happy" for them, while Jack dismissed my seven years of devotion as "intense."

Noah and I met, numb with betrayal, realizing how deeply and deliberately we had been played, their arrogant triumph stinging more than the heartbreak.

The sheer audacity of their lies, the way they'd used our unwavering affection as a smokescreen for half a decade, burned with an unbearable injustice.

How could they have been so cold, so manipulative, while we poured our hearts out?

They truly believed they had won, that they were clever escaping the messy entanglements of their own making.

Then, amidst the ashes of our shared misery, Noah looked at me, a wild glint in his eye, and dropped the bomb: "Let's get married, Emily."

It was reckless, insane, gloriously petty, and the perfect chaotic revenge.

To give them a surprise they wouldn't expect, we decided to tie the knot, turning betrayal into our most unexpected love story.

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When Love Turns to Ash

When Love Turns to Ash

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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