Share
MidReal Story
Golden Cage
Scenario:Write a story about this girl who was forced to go to blind engagement which she didn’t want to and her parents forced her but a minute they sit at the restaurant she run away and almost got hit with motorcycles guy he stop “oh my gosh are you okay”yea I am fine can you help me please I will do anything to repay you back “ he yes i will help you she told him the whole story and she him pretend to be her boyfriend so that her parents cut off the engagement she started hanging out more and more with the motorcycle guy and he started catching feelings and he didn’t want to pretend anymore cuz he actually likes it goes same for the girl she also likes him so he said “since we love each other let’s go tell your parents “ abd she agreed she want to her parents with her boyfriend and there where shocked…….,.
Create my version of this story
Jake Reynolds
motorcycle enthusiast and Emily's fake boyfriend turned real, has a deepening connection with Emily, tall with rugged features and tattoos, protective and freespirited.
Emily Carter
reluctant bride, has a complex relationship with her parents and a growing bond with the motorcycle enthusiast, petite with long brown hair, determined and spirited.
Sarah Carter
Emily's supportive sister, has a close relationship with Emily and becomes friends with Jake, similar appearance to Emily but shorter, empathetic and clever.
Chapter 1
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
I should be at home, in bed, watching Netflix and eating ice cream.
Instead, I’m sitting in the back of a taxi on my way to an engagement dinner with a man I don’t love.
And I never will.
My parents are forcing me into this marriage, and I’m not sure how much longer I can take it.
I need to get out of this car and run away as fast as I can.
I should have known better than to agree to this dinner.
But my sister Sarah convinced me that it would be good for me to get out of the house and see people.
She said that maybe if I gave him a chance, I would learn to love him.
But she was wrong.
I don’t even like him.
I sit at the table, my heart pounding in my chest.
My parents are chatting with my fiancé, but I can’t seem to join in on the conversation.
I fidget with my napkin, my eyes darting around the restaurant, searching for an escape route.
The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses creates a sense of normalcy, but my anxiety is suffocating me.
My parents' laughter and my fiancé's awkward attempts at small talk only add to my distress.
I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare, with no way out.
My mind races, thinking of ways to get out of this situation.
Suddenly, I push my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.
"I need to use the restroom," I mutter, not meeting anyone's gaze.
Before they can respond, I'm already standing up, my heart pounding in my chest.
I make a beeline for the door, not bothering to excuse myself further.
The cool evening air hits me like a slap in the face as I burst out of the restaurant.
I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of freedom wash over me.
But it's short-lived, as I fail to notice the motorcycle speeding down the street.
Time seems to slow down as I realize I'm about to get hit.
A loud screech echoes through the air, and the motorcycle comes to an abrupt halt mere inches from me.
"Oh my gosh, are you okay?"
The motorcycle driver's voice is deep and husky, but laced with concern.
I nod, still in shock.
"Yea, I'm fine. Thank you so much for stopping. I'm sorry about that."
I look up at him, and my heart skips a beat.
He's wearing a helmet, but his face is familiar.
It's the same stranger who helped me escape the engagement dinner a few weeks ago.
I'm not sure if it's a coincidence or not, but I'm grateful nonetheless.
He removes his helmet, revealing messy brown hair and piercing green eyes.
His face is chiseled, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline.
A small smirk plays on his lips as he looks at me.
I can't help but stare at him.
He's even more attractive than I remembered.
"Can I help you with something?" he asks, breaking me from my thoughts.
I blink rapidly, trying to regain my composure.
"Yea, actually. My parents are forcing me into an engagement that I don't want. They're inside that restaurant right now, and I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so that they'll call off the engagement."
He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by my request.
"Okay, I can do that," he says.
"But you have to promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
I ask, not sure what to expect.
"You have to promise me that you'll never ask me to do anything like this again."
I laugh, relief washing over me.
"I promise," I say, holding out my hand for him to shake.
"Deal."
He shakes my hand, and I feel a jolt of electricity run through my body.
I'm not sure if it's because of the situation or because of him, but I'm grateful nonetheless.
I take his hand and lead him inside the restaurant, where my parents are waiting for me.
Their eyes widen in shock as they see me walk in with a man by my side.
"Mom, Dad, this is Jake," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"He's my boyfriend. We've been together for a while now, and I didn't want to introduce him to you until I was sure about us."
My father frowns at me, skepticism etched across his face.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he asks gruffly.
"No Dad, it's not," I reply.
My fiancé barges in, his eyes blazing with anger.
"Who is this?" he demands, pointing at Jake.
The room falls silent, all eyes on us as we stand there.
My heart is pounding in my chest, fear and defiance battling it out.
Jake steps forward, his posture straight and tall.
"I'm her boyfriend," he states firmly, meeting my fiancé's glare.
I stand beside him, feeling a sense of comfort and security by his presence.
My hand slips into his, and he squeezes it reassuringly.
My parents exchange worried glances, unsure of how to react to the situation.
My fiancé sneers at me, disbelief etched across his face.
"Really Emily? This is your big escape plan? Bringing some thug to pretend to be your boyfriend?"
I flinch at his words, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging Jake into this mess.
But before I can respond, my mother cuts in.
"Enough," she says sternly.
"This is ridiculous. Emily, you're twenty-five years old. You need to settle down already."
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm my racing heart.
Jake squeezes my hand again, his voice calm but firm.
"With all due respect, ma'am, Emily deserves to make her own choices," he says, his eyes never leaving my mother's.
Just then, the restaurant door swings open, and a tall figure strides in, causing everyone to turn and stare.
