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MidReal Story
Culpa Mía
Scenario:Книга "Наша вина" (Culpa Mía) от Мерседес Рон — это роман в жанре подростковой драмы и романтики, с элементами напряжённого семейного конфликта и запрете о любви.
Короткий пересказ сюжета:
17-летняя Ноа вынуждена переехать в роскошный дом нового мужа своей матери. Там она знакомится с его сыном — Ником, красивым, дерзким и опасным парнем. Между ними возникает сильное притяжение, несмотря на то, что они теперь "сводные брат и сестра".
Ноа постепенно узнаёт, что Ник скрывает мрачные тайны, связанные с гонками, криминалом и личной болью. Их чувства развиваются на фоне опасностей, семейных тайн и внутренних конфликтов.
Главные темы: запретная любовь, бунтарство, семья, самопознание и подростковые страсти.
Обязательные персонажи: Ноа 17 лет, Ник 20 лет
Create my version of this story
Noah Fletcher
and conflicted. Noah struggles with the move from her previous home to live with her mother’s fiancé and his son, Nick. She develops an intense attraction to Nick, despite the fact that he is her new “brother.” Their secret encounters and shared moments of vulnerability lead to a complicated and dangerous relationship.
Ashley
and compassionate. Ashley supports Emma’s adoption with open arms, showing love and care towards her. Her warmth extends to Noah and Zack, creating a welcoming environment for everyone involved.
Braden
and patient. Braden took custody of Emma after rescuing her from their abusive father, offering her the love and security she deserved. His relationship with Emma showcases a deep affection and trust.
I was seventeen when I fell in love with my new "brother".
I was moving into the home of my mother’s new husband, and his son, Nick, was a guy I’d never met before.
He was twenty years old—three years older than me—and he lived in the huge house with his father.
When I first saw him, I felt this electricity run through my body.
It was like nothing I had felt before.
I knew I was in trouble because Nick wasn’t just any guy.
He was my new stepbrother.
Nick is a guy who will drive you crazy.
He’s handsome and hot, mysterious, dangerous, and totally bad.
You’re going to want to hate him—but you won’t be able to.
When you look into his eyes, you’ll see the depth of his pain.
He’s a guy who has been through a hell of a lot, but he doesn’t give up.
He fights for what he wants—and he always gets what he wants.
Nick is a guy who will do anything to keep the people he loves safe.
He will sacrifice himself for them—and fight until the death.
He is a rebel without a cause, a criminal who steals cars, participates in street racing, and commits other crimes.
But there is so much more to him than that.
I wander through the dimly lit hallways of my new home, running my fingers along the expensive wallpaper.
The house is impossibly large, and it feels empty without anyone else in it.
My footsteps echo on the marble floors, and I can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all.
As I round a corner, I notice a door that I hadn’t seen before.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I push it open to reveal a library.
The room is filled with leather-bound books that line the shelves from floor to ceiling.
The air is thick with the scent of old paper, and I can’t resist the urge to sink into one of the plush armchairs that sit by the window.
As I look out the glass, I notice a figure in the courtyard below.
It’s Nick, and he’s working on his car.
His muscles flex as he leans over the engine, and I find myself staring at him for longer than I should. The door creaks behind me, and I jump up from my seat, my heart racing.
I turn around to see who it is, but there’s no one there.
It must have been the breeze from an open window, I tell myself.
"Enjoying the view?" Nick's voice startles me, and I spin around to see him leaning casually against the doorframe.
"I—uh, didn't realize anyone else was here," I stammer, trying to steady my racing heart.
"Well, now that you know, maybe you can help me with something," he says with a smirk, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.
I follow him down to the garage, my footsteps echoing off the concrete floor.
He leads me to his sleek black car, which is lifted up on a hydraulic lift.
"I need someone to hold the flashlight while I check out the engine," he explains, handing me a flashlight and gesturing for me to stand next to him.
The space is cramped, and we have to stand close together in order to see what we're doing.
As he works, his arm occasionally brushes against mine, sending shivers down my spine.
The garage feels too warm, too intimate.
"Can you lean in a little closer with the light?" he asks, his voice low and husky.
I do as he asks, and as I lean in, I catch a whiff of his scent—a mix of motor oil and cologne that makes my heart skip a beat.
His fingers brush against mine as he adjusts the position of the flashlight, and I nearly drop it.
"Sorry," he mutters, his eyes locked on mine for a moment before he looks away.
We work in silence for a few minutes, the tension between us growing thicker than the air in the garage.
"Why do you even bother with this old thing?" I finally ask, trying to break the tension.
Nick pauses, wiping his hands on a rag before answering, "It was my mom's car; fixing it up is like keeping a piece of her alive."
I swallow hard, realizing there's so much more beneath his tough exterior than I ever imagined.