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MidReal Story
Her Bodyguard Bad Boy
Scenario:In a modern day small town, a mom and her twins 5 year old twins move into a house next to a horror writer. The mom becomes the target of a stalker. The writer comes to her aid and he protects her and they fall in love.
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Kate
She is a single mother of twins in a small town. She is resilient, caring, and vulnerable. After moving to a new house, she becomes the target of a stalker and feels isolated. With the help of her neighbors, including a famous horror writer, she finds protection and love. Kate navigates through fear and determination to keep her children safe while discovering a new sense of desire and belonging.
Emma and Noah
They are 5yearold twins attending preschool in smalltown USA. They are energetic, curious, and innocent. As Kate's children, they bring joy and concern amid their mother's turmoil with a stalker. The twins' frequent visits to Mason's house lead to an unexpected bond between them and Mason, providing protection for Kate and her children while sparking new connections in their lives.
Mansion
setting. It is a large, old mansion owned by Mason in a small town surrounded by woods. It is eerie, grand, and wellmaintained. The mansion becomes crucial in keeping Kate's twins safe while also introducing Kate to a world she never knew existed—Mason’s hidden world of secrecy and sophistication. The mansion’s proximity to Kate’s new home creates an unexpected connection between her life and Mason’s mysterious realm.
Moving to a new place is always exciting.
I never thought I would be doing that at the age of 25 with two 5-year-old twins.
My life took an unexpected turn, and I had to make some tough decisions.
I decided to leave my hometown and everything I knew to start a new life in a small town.
The reason behind this was my ex-husband, the twins' father, who got a new girlfriend and wanted us out of his life as soon as possible.
I tried to keep things civil for the sake of the children, but it seemed like no matter what I did, I was always the bad person.
It didn't take me long to realize that fighting over someone who didn't want to fight for me, someone who didn't care about me or our children, was pointless.
So I made the decision to move away and start a new life.
I was excited and nervous at the same time.
The town was small, and everyone seemed to know each other.
It took me some time to get used to it, but eventually I did.
My twins, Emma and Noah, started preschool, and they made friends right away.
I gathered Emma and Noah from their playroom.
They were playing with their toys, and I had to promise them that we would come back to it later.
I wanted to meet our new neighbor, and I was determined to do it today.
The twins bounced ahead of me as we walked up the winding path that led to the mansion next door.
The iron gates were covered in vines, and the sound of children's laughter echoed off of them.
We reached the front door, and I hesitated for a moment before pressing the doorbell.
The sound of a bell chimed inside the house, and I heard footsteps approaching.
I could see a figure through the beveled glass window on the side of the door.
It was a tall man with dark hair and intense eyes.
He opened the door, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Can I help you?"
His voice was deep and commanding, sending shivers down my spine.
"We're your new neighbors," Emma said boldly, stepping forward.
I couldn't help but smile at her confidence.
"Hi," I said, extending my hand.
"I'm Lily, and this is Emma and Noah. We just moved in next door."
The man stared at me for a moment before taking my hand in his.
His touch sent sparks through my body, and I quickly pulled my hand away. "Nice to meet you," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I'm Mason Warner."
I knew who he was even before he introduced himself.
Mason Warner was a famous horror writer whose books lined my shelves at home.
I had read every single one of them, and I couldn't believe that I was standing in front of him right now.
"We're going to be friends," Emma said excitedly, tugging on Mason's pant leg.
Mason looked down at her with a confused expression on his face before turning back to me.
"Is there something you need?"
"No," I said quickly.
"We were just introducing ourselves. We didn't mean to disturb you."
"It's fine," Mason said, his voice softening slightly.
"I'm just working on a new book."
"Oh," I said, nodding my head.
"Well, we won't keep you then. It was nice meeting you."
"Yeah," Mason said, nodding his head as well.
"Nice meeting you too."
With that, he closed the door, leaving us standing there alone once again. "Mommy," Noah said, tugging on my sleeve.
"Why did he look so scared?"
We were walking back down Mason's winding driveway.
I was holding Noah's small hand while Emma skipped ahead of us.
Noah looked up at me with his big brown eyes, his face scrunched up in worry.
I knelt down beside him, brushing his dark curls away from his forehead.
"He wasn't scared, sweetie," I said softly.
"Writers need quiet time to work."
Mason's coldness had stung a little, but I didn't want the twins to think that they had done anything wrong.
Emma circled back around and stopped in front of us.
"I'm going to draw him a picture," she said excitedly.
"That way he'll be happy when he sees us again."
I smiled at her and nodded my head.
"That's a great idea," I said, standing back up and taking Noah's hand again.
We walked down the driveway and onto our front yard.
As we did, I couldn't help but look up at Mason's house one last time. He was standing in the window of his study, watching us walk away.
When our eyes met, he quickly pulled the curtains closed.
I ushered the twins inside and closed the door behind us.
After putting the twins down for their afternoon nap, I sat down at my kitchen window with a cup of tea.
I looked out at Mason's house.
The curtains were still closed, but I could see smoke coming out of the chimney on the side of his house.
It was too warm outside for him to be using his fireplace, which meant that he was smoking a cigar.
I pulled out my phone and searched for any recent interviews with Mason Warner.
There were none.
All I could find were articles from years ago talking about how he was a recluse who never gave interviews.
There were also a few articles speculating about when his next book would be released.
As I scrolled through my phone, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.
Mason had stepped out onto his balcony, a notebook in his hand.
He sat down on one of the chairs and began to write. Every so often, he would look up and glance over at my house.
I ducked away from the window, not wanting him to catch me staring at him again.
But I couldn't help myself.
A minute later, I found myself peeking around the edge of the curtain once again.
He was still sitting there, writing furiously in his notebook.
I decided to take a closer look at his writing spot while he was gone.
I waited until I saw his car pull out of his driveway before walking outside.
I walked to the edge of my yard, which was right next to his balcony.
There were pages scattered all over the ground beneath it.
They must have blown away in the wind.
I knelt down and picked one up, my hands shaking as I did so.
The page was filled with notes about the twins and me.
It had our breakfast times, when we left for school, what time we came home.
It even had notes on which windows I looked out of most often.
Between these notes were fragments of what must be his new horror story. A twig snapped behind me.
I turned quickly, but no one was there.
I wave at Mason, who's sitting on his balcony.
He looks up from his notebook and stares at me for a moment before I walk over to the edge of my yard.
"Hi," I say, trying to sound casual.
"Hi," he says back, his voice hesitant.
"I saw you out here and thought I'd come say hello."
"Oh," he says, nodding his head.
"Okay."
I can tell that he's not sure what to make of me, but I'm determined to break the ice between us.
"So, how's the writing going?"
I ask, gesturing to his notebook.
"It's going," he says, shrugging his shoulders.
"I'm working on a new story."
"Oh yeah?" I say, trying to sound interested.
"What's it about?"
He looks at me for a moment before answering.
"It's a horror story," he says finally.
"About a family who moves into a new house and discovers that it's haunted."
"Oh," I say, nodding my head.
"That sounds interesting."
"Yeah," he says, looking down at his notebook again.
"I think it has a lot of potential."
I stand there for a moment, not sure what else to say.
Mason seems like a nice guy, but he's definitely not the most talkative person I've ever met. "So, do you have a husband?" he asks suddenly, looking up at me again.
"No," I say, shaking my head.
"I'm single."
"Oh," he says, nodding his head again.
"Well, it was nice talking to you."
"Yeah," I say, smiling at him.
"You too."
I turn and start walking back to my house when I hear him call out behind me.
"Hey," he says, standing up from his chair and walking over to the edge of the balcony.
"Yeah?"
I ask, turning around to face him again.
"Thanks for coming over," he says softly.
"No problem," I say with a smile.
"I'll see you around."
"Yeah," he says, nodding his head once more before turning and walking back into his house. As I walk back to my own house, I can't help but feel a little bit disappointed that our conversation didn't go better.
But then again, maybe it's not so bad that Mason Warner isn't interested in talking to me.
"Wait," Mason says, his voice suddenly urgent.
I pause, turning back to him with a curious look.
"There's something about the story," he continues, his eyes locking onto mine, "it's not entirely fiction."
I linger at the edge of my yard, gripping the railing of his balcony as he speaks.
His voice drops lower, pulling me closer.
"Things have been happening around here," he explains, his words barely above a whisper.
"Pets going missing, strange noises at night, shadows moving where they shouldn't."
My stomach tightens as he speaks.
I've experienced some of these things myself, but I've tried to brush them off as mere paranoia.
Mason's words send a chill down my spine.
He gestures for me to follow him, leading me back to his chair and opening his notebook.
The pages are filled with detailed sketches of dark figures lurking around houses, including mine.
My breath catches in my throat as I recognize the window angles - they match the ones in my kitchen and living room.
Mason's hand brushes mine as he points to specific dates and times in his notebook.
The touch sends electricity through me, but I can't tell if it's fear or attraction.
Suddenly, a door slams inside his house, making me jump.
Mason leads me inside, the heavy door creaking shut behind us.
The room is dimly lit, with leather-bound books lining dark wooden shelves.
His desk is cluttered with scattered papers and sketches.
He pulls out a thick folder, spreading surveillance photos across the surface.
They show shadowy figures lurking near mailboxes, partially hidden behind trees.
All the photos were taken at night.
Mason's fingers trace over timestamps and locations, brushing against mine as he points to recurring patterns.
When he reaches for another file, a floorboard creaks overhead.
We both freeze, staring at the ceiling.
Mason grabs my arm, his grip tight.
"There's someone else here," he whispers, his eyes wide with alarm.
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest as I glance toward the staircase.
"We need to get out of here," he insists, pulling me toward the back door.