What Happened To Monday Movie Metacritic Rating?

A story wherein a girl was invited by her boyfriend in a seven day vacation at his place. Clyone did noticed how strange the six days of the vacation went, but decided to ignore it instead. Despite of being aware of how strange her boyfriend was, a horrible event happened on the last day still crashed her world. A horrible event she never expected to come nor imagined.

Xander (Alexander Michelle) is hated by his family not because he was the sole survivor of the tragic accident that claimed the lives his parents. He’s hated because his father left everything to him—every cent, every asset, the entire Michelle empire. But, the Will provided a clause: until he is married, he can't assess his fortune. For twenty years, Xander was cast out, exiled by the same man who now reminds him of the clause— the same man who spent the last two decades burning through what wasn’t his—his grandfather, Jacob Michelle. Now, Xander is back. And he’s furious. He is ready to marry just to reclaim what’s his. But there’s another condition: he must marry the woman his grandfather chooses: Tatiana Richardson (Tiana), a woman who is willing to marry Xander to escape harassment from her uncle and her mother's taunts. Both are desperate to get what they want, Xander, his fortune and Tiana, her freedom. But freedom isn’t that simple. A deal is struck: 7-days-marriage. No strings. No real vows. Just seven days to fulfill a legal requirement. Will this be enough for Tiana to gain the freedom from her problems? Will these seven days be a total freedom for Tatiana when Xander sees her as nothing but a desperate woman after his money, just like his family? Will there be a chance where Xander will take a pause and look differently at Tiana when he doesn't believe she is as feeble as she looks, especially since Tiana has his grandfather's backing?

I suffer from a hereditary form of amnesia. By the time I found out, I had only seven days left. On the first day, I found my boyfriend had fallen for my younger twin sister. With a bitter smile, I suggested we break up. On the second day, my most treasured Lego set was smashed by my sister. Everyone laughed at me, saying I was disgraceful, unworthy of being a daughter of the Fleming family. On the fourth day, I forgot that my sister was allergic to mangoes. She ended up in the hospital, and my parents glared at me with resentment. Even my ex-boyfriend accused me of being heartless. On the seventh day, I woke up in a hospital bed to see my father walking in with a stern expression. He demanded that I quit my job and devote myself entirely to taking care of the family, as nothing more than a housekeeper. But I only looked at them in confusion and asked softly, “Who are you?” When they realized I had truly lost my memory, they lost their minds.

My parents adopted a kid, and I treated him like treasure. Then he started looking uncannily like my husband, Brian. And I caught him whispering "Mom" to my sister, Ruby. Yeah. Plot twist: Brian had been cheating on me the whole time. With Ruby. They played house behind my back, smiling for family pics—with my parents' blessing. When the truth blew up, Ruby had the audacity to beg me to step aside. My parents told me to get over it. And that kid I loved like my own? Told me I deserved to die. But here's the kicker—Brian wouldn't even sign the divorce. Dude broke down, said he still loved me, swore the kid was a mistake. So I smiled and said, "Cool. You've got seven days. Prove it, and I'll forgive you." He went full simp mode. Emptied his bank account, treated me like I was gold. Even kicked Ruby down and yelled at her to apologize. Everyone thought I'd cave. Then the cops called, asked him to ID a body—and Brian totally lost it. He never knew I'd been dead this whole time. The Reaper gave me one last week to say goodbye.

My father, Daniel Jacobson, teams up with the elders in my family to launch the Family app. Every child's behavior is converted into points, and those points determine who inherits the family's wealth. As the least favored daughter in the family, I am one of the first people forced to use it. "You earn one point for greeting your parents. Massaging shoulders or washing feet gives you ten points. Handing over your entire paycheck gets you 1,000 points. This is my original digital system for measuring good behavior." If I dare complain even once, or if I rank last on the scoreboard, Dad humiliates me relentlessly in the family group chat. He even forces me to kneel and wash the feet of whoever has the highest score as an apology. He looks at my hands that are red and scalded from the hot water and sighs. Then, his expression turns resolute again as he says, "I know it hurts now, but this is for your own good. A rough diamond has to be cut and polished before it can sparkle. I'm helping to smooth away your rough edges so your future will be smoother. "The points system is my greatest achievement. It's the deepest expression of a father's love." Today is Independence Day. It's also our family's annual scoreboard finalizing day. Dad invites all our relatives over. In front of everyone, he plans to announce that I, the child who ranks last, will be disowned. He wants everyone to see what happens to anyone who dares challenge his authority. "I'm doing this for the good of our family. Without rules, there can be no order. And without a strict upbringing, you won't build up the perfect character. One day, you'll understand my good intentions." But, Dad... I have already ended my own life by overdosing on some medicine. Right now, my lifeless body lies cold in the room upstairs, waiting for you to uncover it with your own hands.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my wife handed me a divorce agreement that was valid for seven days. She had fallen for a male intern at her company who was seven years younger than her. She wanted to experience what she called a proper romance with him, one that would last exactly seven days. On the first day, they booked an entire private cinema and made love to each other from the entrance to their seats. On the second day, they went to the seaside to set off fireworks, and the light spread across half the skyline of Veyron. On the fifth day, the intern burst into an art exhibition I hosted and cried in front of the entire press. He accused me of coming between them. That same evening, the story of a rising painter becoming a homewrecker for love reached the top of the trending searches, and the hate comments poured in. On the sixth day, my wife apologized to me on the intern’s behalf, and his punishment was a three‑day ban from shopping. On the seventh day, my wife finally sensed something was wrong. She called me ninety‑nine times and reminded me that we were supposed to reconcile the next day. I replied with a single “okay” and quietly told my assistant to arrange for my luggage to be shipped out. What she did not know was that seven days earlier, I had already made plans to go abroad to continue my studies. This time, I was done playing her game.