How Did 'How Far I'Ll Go' Perform On The Music Charts?

What was supposed to be a punishment for captain Ysabelle Gum soon turns into a romantic getaway when she catches the attention of a celeb musician on her team. Ysabelle has no interest in men, especially celebrities, she just wants to shoot and kill to her heart’s content. However, she is forced to reconsider when she is tasked with being his bodyguard. Ysabelle wants no part of it, not when the singer is hell-bent on making her love him. Actor and singer Jordan Bell was used to being fawned over, by fans and family. But he realizes he needs something else, something deeper. When he is cast in a military drama, Jordan and his team go to shooting stations, where he meets Ysabelle, who against all odds saved his life during a shooting mistake. Jordan is sure she is the one for him, and he vows to make her his bodyguard. But the thing is, Ysabelle has no interest in him, and no amount of broken bones will keep him away.

"Jump. You love me to death, don't you? Didn't you say you'd do anything for me?" Ethan Hart wanted me to throw myself off the observation deck of the tallest tower downtown, live, in front of the millions of people watching the broadcast. I stood on the wrong side of the railing. Below me, traffic streamed through the streets and neon flickered in the distance. His friends clapped and cheered. Vivian Lane laughed softly and curled herself against his arm. Ethan's grin turned vicious. "Come on, don't waste everyone's time. Jump, and I'll marry you." He'd made me a promise once. Finish a hundred of his demands, and he would marry me. When his company was circling bankruptcy, he told me to hand over everything I owned, and I did. Then he moved Vivian into my house in the suburbs and left me to sleep in a motel. The night he was tangled up with Vivian at a private party, he sent me over with something for his hangover, and made a point of telling me to bring a box of condoms, the right size. I stood at the door holding the soup I'd made, and heard him laugh. "She's my ATM. I use her, then I throw her out." No matter how far it went, I'd done all ninety-nine. This was the last one: jump. He thought I'd hesitate, thought I'd cry and beg him to pick something else. I didn't. I let go and fell. The wind roared in my ears, and the whole lit-up city slid past me. I heard him shout, heard the crowd scream, and underneath all of it, the one voice I'd waited too long to hear. [Congratulations, host. Emotional conquest progress: one hundred percent. Reward delivered. Your mother's terminal illness is fully cured.]

"Please… stop pushing. I can't move." The concert crowd was packed and restless, bodies pressed tightly together. I found myself too close to the girl in front of me. She wore a short skirt that brushed against me every time the crowd surged. What caught my attention was how close we were: the faint warmth of her body through the thin fabric made my pulse quicken. For a brief moment, I thought I felt her react too, as if she sensed the same strange tension hanging between us.

Everybody said my life was over after Brad Coleman called off his engagement with me. I had been with him for five years. The things I had done to pander to him had left my reputation in tatters. Nobody was willing to be with a woman like me anymore. After word started spreading within our social circle that Brad had gotten a new lover, everybody was waiting for me to go crawling back to him. However, what they did not know was that I had volunteered to take my younger sister's place and go to a faraway city, Clason City, to get married. Before I got married, I returned the treasure box that Brad had given to me. The coupon for a free wish that he had given me when he was younger was still in it. I left without leaving anything behind. However, one day after a long time, Brad suddenly thought of me. "It's been a while since I last heard from Leah Young. Is she dead?" he said. Meanwhile, I was awakened by kisses from my new husband. "Good girl, Leah. You promised me to go four rounds. We can't go any less…"

In my seven years of being married to my husband, Mark Chapman, he always gives me whatever I ask for and prioritizes me in everything. This goes on until he keeps sending food coupons to a female college student named Hayley Larkson. Not only that, he stands up for her and beats up some thugs on her behalf. One time, he even takes her to the hospital to get treatment. Holding a toy, my daughter asks Mark innocently, "Dad, Ms. Larkson is so gentle and pretty. She's not as strict and mean as Mom, who always makes me do homework. Can you ask her to move in and be my teacher?" Mark smiles and replies, "Sure." I stand frozen in a corner, my lips trembling. Just then, the system's cold voice speaks in my mind. It asks if I want to go home. I close my eyes and reply, "Take me home."

On the day we got our marriage license, Sonia Gray told me that if we ever slept in separate rooms for more than a week, it meant we had silently agreed to divorce. Every time we got into a fight, she would grab her pillow and run to the other room. And every time, I was the one who had to back down, lower my head, and apologize. She used that threat to keep me wrapped around her pinky for three years. It was my 28th birthday. Once again, she missed our date because of the intern at her workplace. When she came home, she extended diamond cufflinks to me. I did not take it. Sonia frowned at me for a while before saying coldly, "You have a birthday every year. He doesn't get a second life. This isn't a game. I came back as fast as I could after taking Chris to the hospital. Stop throwing a tantrum. How controlling can you be? You're a monster." She went right into the guest room. This time, I did not go after her.