Topic Sa Chat Novels & Stories

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

While on vacation, I return to my hometown to help my parents harvest pears. After seeing my Instagram post, my son's homeroom teacher, Ernest Dugan, sends me a private message. "So you sell pears, Mr. Miller? The kindergarten hasn't finalized next month's fruit supplier yet, so we'll order from you. You won't suffer any loss from this deal. I'll pay five dollars per pound. You just need to arrange transportation and deliver them to the kindergarten." I almost laugh out loud. My family's pears are the famous Green Jewel variety; they are known as the "Hermes of pears". They sell for over 100 dollars per pound on average. Five dollars wouldn't even cover the cost of a single pear. Even though Ernest is being ridiculous, I still reply politely, "Sorry, all of our pears are reserved. You'll need to find another supplier." To my surprise, Ernest immediately posts photos of my family's pears in the parent group chat. He writes, "Next month's fruit selection for the kindergarten will be upgraded to Green Jewel pears. If anyone wishes to buy some for personal consumption, feel free to place orders below. The price is five dollars per pound." The chat group buzzes with activity as parents rush to place orders one after another. Three days later, they block the truck carrying my shipment to Windford. Determined to force the sale, they surround the vehicle and refuse to let it leave. Before they can ransack the truck, several military-plated vehicles arrive and seal off the road. A group of officials steps out with stern, angry expressions. One of them coldly demands, "These are pears specially ordered for this weekend's state banquet. Who said you could lay a finger on them?"

On the day I decide to quit the game, multiple comments suddenly streak across my vision. "Great news! The female supporting lead is finally quitting the game!" "Stacy no longer has to worry about getting exposed for using the supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Stacy is really smart! Every time she uses the supporting leads account, she always uses the in-game voice chat function! That supporting lead has no idea that Stacy has been doing this behind her back!" "Wow, Stacy really is blessed to have reeled in such amazing men!" "I can't believe she used the female supporting lead's max-level account to flirt with four of the best players on the server!" "At 2:00 pm later, she'll be meeting her first target, Lewis Johnes, the cold and aloof campus heartthrob, at Riche Cafe!' "Tomorrow, Stacy will be meeting the best assassin in person. The day after that, she'll meet the rich scion who's also ranked second on the list! She really is amazing with her time management skills!" The "Stacy" that the comments mention is Stacy White, my roommate. She actually impersonated me to flirt with four top-tier players on the server, huh? More comments streak across my vision once again. "Why isn't Heather leaving right now? Lewis is already waiting for Stacy!" "This is their first sweet date as a couple! Oh gosh, I can't wait to see it unfold!" I turn to look at Stacy, who's touching up her makeup in front of the vanity mirror. Only then do I understand that I'm the female supporting lead the comments are talking about. A small smile appears on my face. Since Stacy is impersonating me to become a Casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend those meetings and reap the reverse harem she has prepared for me, right?

During the holidays, my boss wants us to choose between a holiday bonus and tarts. I don't like tarts at all, so I'm the first one to vote for a bonus. But the intern, Davin Holt, who's in charge of gathering everyone's votes and opinions, is quick to pin me on the hall of shame in the company's group chat. "Fabian, we mainly celebrate the holidays just to experience the atmosphere, you know? Isn't it too materialistic of you to vote for a bonus instead?" The department head tags me in the group chat as well. "Fabian, our company prioritizes the team spirit even more." In the end, everyone except me chooses the tarts. On the day of our holiday team bonding event, Davin bought everyone nut tarts. He knows that I'm allergic to nuts, and yet he still forces me to eat the tart in front of my boss just to show that I have team spirit. "Fabian, I bought the tarts with everyone's bonus. You can't just rain on our parade by rejecting them, right?" The next thing I know, I begin having difficulties breathing. At the same time, patches of red rashes break out on my skin. But Davin shoots me a look of disgust. "Dude, must you really spoil the mood while everyone else is having fun?" Desperately, I rummage through my bag for my allergy medication, only to see more tarts in its place. The sight of me looking so wretched makes Davin roar in laughter. "Medicine can be harmful to you, you know! You should have more desserts instead! That's why I've changed all of your medication to tarts!" Already, I find it more and more difficult to breathe. So, I text the CEO of this company on the spot. "Mom, my allergy is acting up! I'm at…"

This is the story of a dying girl. Gracie. And just like every dying person, she had wishes. Infact she had a bucket list of things she wanted to do before she finally dies. * She had cancer of the blood and bone marrow. Chronic lymphocytic Leukaemia. It develops from a type of white blood cell called B cells and it progresses slowly. Symptoms may not show until maybe years for some patients. Her CLL was aggressive and needed chemotherapy treatment early. But it was a little late for her when they discovered. So wth no early treatment, She had just 5 years to live. The hospital became her home. She was given a room there to live indefinitely. She could still recall her dad’s gloomy face while decorating her room. She eventually recovered a little, just like every other days, she found herself retiring to her former routine. Her chats with him. But when she told him she was sick and was gonna die, he kind of took it differently than she expected. He asked her why. And her reply was probably the last message on their chat till this day. If he blocked her or something, she just doesn't know. she could never find him again on social media. She cried for weeks. He was supposed to be her best friend. She was never gonna make peace with Cancer or resign to fate. No way. Eventually she stopped treatment 2 yrs later when she got her independence. No matter the treatment, she would never be able to live as long as she wants anyway. So why prolong the torture? But that was a difficult decision to make nonetheless because she stopping the treatment meant she'd have to die earlier than 5 years. But she’d rather make peace with that as long as she could do whatever she wanted before dying. ..................... It's all about love, drama, regret.

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

Throughout my seven years of living in this residential area, I've been helping my neighbors receive their parcels and babysit their children no matter how sudden the requests are. All sorts of delivered goods have gone through my hands, be it tiny regular parcels, special deliveries containing raw seafood, or furniture and electrical appliances. My motto is that close-knitted neighbors are more dependable rather than my family, who lives very far away from me. That's why I never hesitate to lend a helping hand as long as the circumstances permit me to do so. In fact, I often deliver everyone's parcels to their units. But one day, Carmen Webber, a young woman who has just moved into the apartment, brings this topic up during a casual chit-chat with the other neighbors. "Nowadays, the parcel lockers and the parcel pickup points are very convenient to use. There's absolutely no need to specifically get someone to sign your parcels for you. Could it be that Hilary is using the guise of doing things for everyone just to make some quick bucks under the table? "After all, those who accept parcels on behalf of others tend to get paid. You guys must have slipped her some money every time you drop by her place to pick up your stuff, right? Imagine how lucrative business must be for her!" Carmen then shoots me a glance, mockery dripping from her tone. The neighbors just swap looks with each other. Then, they turn their suspicious gazes to me. That's when Carmen adds, "Next time, you can seek me out when you need someone to accept parcels and babysit children for you. I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I promise that I won't earn a single cent from you guys!" My heart goes stone cold when I listen to everyone else agreeing with Carmen. Over the past seven years, I'm the one paying for everything, be it opening my door in the middle of the night to accept a delivery, babysitting children for others, or making up for the lost packages and the spoiled seafood. Not only do I not earn a single cent, but I've also lost quite a huge amount of money. On top of that, many of my plans get delayed or rescheduled, too. Since Carmen wants to be the good Samaritan this badly, I might as well let her take over all these troublesome and thankless matters from now on.

Late one night, as I scrolled through social media, I came across a relationship influencer with over a hundred thousand followers, teaching men how to "control" their wives. "She actually tried to talk to me about privacy?" he scoffed. "I ignored her for three days, and she handed over all her passwords, crying and begging me not to leave her." The comments exploded almost instantly. The chat went wild. [Take me under your wing, man!] I felt sick to my stomach. Then, without warning, he lifted his phone and pressed a kiss to the screen. A face appeared in the reflection. Mine. Smiling, he turned back to his audience of thousands. "See this? This is the perfect wife I spent three years training." A chill ran through me. I clicked into his profile and scrolled all the way back to his first post. The upload date was the same day we got married. He claimed he was filming prank videos and that it was all just for the livestream—no wonder he got increasingly out of hand. That was when it hit me: he had been lying to me all along. From the moment I stepped into that marriage, I had been nothing more than his experiment, his content, his source of money. Fine. If that was the case, then I would turn his livestream into his worst nightmare. I picked up my phone and sat directly beneath the camera he had installed, then sent a deliberately suggestive message to another man. Three seconds later, the bedroom door burst open. Matthias stormed in and snatched my phone. After reading the message, his lips pressed into a tight line. However, he did not explode. He did not even look at me. Instead, he turned, opened his livestream, and faced the camera. "Send something through, and I'll show you exactly how to put a cheating woman in her place."

Labinlimang taon siyang nawala. Dinukot, tinanggalan ng pagkakakilanlan, at halos nakalimutan na ng lahat. Ngayon, bumalik si Luna Valencia, the only heir ng powerful Valencia family, dala ang tapang at ganda na parang sandata, handang harapin ang mundong minsang iniwan niya. Akala niya’y simpleng misyon lang ang pagbabalik, isang tungkuling sa wakas ay matatapos na. Ngunit nagbago ang lahat nang magtagpo ang mata nila ng lalaki sa kabilang kalye. That man was no other than Isaac Knight Fernandez. Ang malamig at mailap na pinuno ng pamilya Fernandez, na kilala bilang isang bituing hindi maabot. Subalit para kay Luna, siya ang perpektong paglalarawan ng lalaking gusto niya. In an instant, the lost heiress found her secret obsession. And when Luna wants something—she never lets go. “I saw you, Isaac Fernandez… and I won’t stop until you’re mine.” Sa likod ng kanyang mapanganib na plano, may isang tinig na nakikisali. Puno ng nakakakilabot na tawa at kasabikan, “You think you’re the only one obsessed, Luna? From the moment I saw you… I knew you were already mine.” Sa isang mundong puno ng tsismis, kapangyarihan, at kasinungalingan, magtatagumpay kaya ang lihim na obsesyon, o ito na ba ang magiging simula ng kaniyang pagbagsak?

On the day I'm about to quit the game, I see countless live comments flashing across my vision. "Yay! The male supporting lead is about to quit the game!" "Now, the male lead won't have to worry about getting exposed for using the male supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Our darling male lead is too smart, after all! Whenever he goes on dates, he often uses the voice chat function in the game. That's why the male supporting lead is still kept in the dark!" "Holy shit, Henry really is lucky!" "To think that he used Vincent's max-level account to flirt with the four richest female players on the server!" "Later at 2:00 pm, he'll be meeting his first date partner, Yvonne Johnson the cold and aloof campus belle, at Cosmic Coffee!" "Tomorrow, he'll be meeting up with the top assassin in-game! The day after that, he'll go on a date with the second-highest paying player of the game! Wow, his time management skills really are amazing!" The "Henry" whom the live comments are referring to is Henry Luster, my roommate. So, he's been flirting with four of the top-tier rich female players while impersonating me, huh? More live comments streak past my eyes at that moment. "Why isn't the male supporting lead leaving? Yvonne is already waiting for the male lead right now!" "This is their first romantic date as the leads of this story! I can't wait to watch it unfold!" As I turn to look at Henry, who's styling his hair before the mirror, I suddenly realize that I'm the supporting male lead whom the live comments are referring to. My lips curl into a small smile. Since Henry has been using my identity to become a virtual casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend each date in person on his behalf, right?