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MidReal Story
Pxxki Wxlff： A Secret Child Romance
Scenario:Reginald aka pxxki wxlf professional rapper/wrestler/jedi/hockey player Who's in the town after a high school Reunion meeting up with some old friends
Create my version of this story
Reginald Sr.
firstperson protagonist, male, father and protector, relationships with his family, rugged with a determined look, resourceful and protective.
Emily Carter
protagonist, female, fellow survivor and ally to Reginald, friends with Reginald, petite with curly hair, brave and intelligent
Jade Cargill
protagonist, female, WWE wrestler and queen beauty, loved by Reginald Thorne, athletic build with striking features, determined and resilient.
I am Reginald "Reggie" pxxki wxlf.
I'm a professional rapper, WWE wrestler, jedi knight, and a hockey player.
I've come back to my hometown for my high school reunion, and I'm meeting up with some of my old friends tonight.
As I walk through the doors of the banquet hall, I immediately lock eyes with Samantha, the love of my life.
She looks even more beautiful than she did twenty years ago.
I can't believe that I had a child with her all those years ago.
I never got the chance to be a father to our son.
I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but not being there for him is my biggest regret.
Samantha notices me staring at her and gives me a small smile before looking away.
She's still nervous around me, and I don't blame her.
We started our relationship while I was still her teacher's son, and she was his student.
It was a huge secret back then because I was only eighteen, and she was seventeen.
I weave through the crowd of former classmates, their chatter fading into background noise as I make my way toward Samantha.
She's standing by the punch bowl, fidgeting with her bracelet - a nervous habit she's kept after all these years.
My WWE championship belt feels heavy under my jacket as I close the distance.
A few people try to stop me for autographs, but I politely brush them off.
When I'm three steps away, Samantha tenses, her shoulders rising slightly.
She grabs her purse, ready to retreat, but I gently call her name.
"Sam, we need to talk about him," I say, keeping my voice low.
Her eyes meet mine, and in that moment, I know there's no turning back.
I weave through the crowd, following Samantha's lead as she walks briskly toward a dimly lit alcove near the old trophy cases.
My heart pounds in my chest, and I can't help but notice the worn leather wallet clutched tightly in her hand.
It's probably filled with photos of our son.
The music from the reunion fades into the background as we distance ourselves from the main hall.
A few curious classmates try to follow us, but Marcus, who's been watching from across the room, subtly positions himself to block their path.
Samantha's hands tremble slightly as she opens the wallet, revealing a stack of photographs.
"Reggie, you should know he's been asking about you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
My heart skips a beat, and I struggle to find the right words.
"Does he... does he know who I am?" I manage to ask, my voice tinged with both hope and fear.
With trembling fingers, she pulls out a photograph from the wallet and holds it in her palm.
The image depicts a young man, maybe nineteen years old, wearing a varsity football jacket.
His jawline is unmistakably mine, while his eyes mirror hers - those same captivating brown orbs that have always held me spellbound.
I swallow hard, my throat constricting as I take in every detail of our son's face.
He has my nose - the same one I see in the mirror every morning.
Marcus stands guard near the entrance of the alcove, keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings to ensure our conversation remains private.
A few curious classmates linger nearby, trying to eavesdrop on our exchange.
Samantha notices them too and instinctively shields the photo from view.
"Let me see him," I say, my voice filled with longing as I reach out to take the picture.
For a moment, she hesitates, her fingers tightening around the edges as if she's torn between revealing our secret and protecting him from the consequences.
"His name is James," she whispers finally, her voice cracking with emotion.
"He's studying engineering at State."
Reluctantly, she releases the photograph into my waiting hands.
As our fingers touch, that old spark reignites between us. I hold the photo gently, studying every feature of James's face.
The resemblance is undeniable - a fusion of Samantha's and my own traits.
A lump forms in my throat as I realize how much he looks like me.
Tears well up in Samantha's eyes as she watches me absorb the truth before us.
I tuck the photograph carefully into the inner pocket of my jacket, close to my heart, where it belongs.
"Reggie, he deserves to know the truth," Samantha says, her voice steady despite the tears.
I nod, feeling the weight of her words settle over me like a heavy cloak.
"I want to meet him, Sam, and be the father I should have been all along."
I pull my phone out to text Marcus that I'm leaving early.
Samantha excuses herself to retrieve her coat from the makeshift coat check they've set up in an old classroom.
As I wait for her return, I glance down the hallway, which feels surreal.
Same lockers, same trophy cases, but everything's different now.
Through the open gym doors, I hear the DJ playing our old prom song.
Samantha returns a moment later, adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder.
She looks nervous, fidgeting with her bracelet again.
"James is studying late at the campus library tonight," she says quietly.
"It's about thirty minutes away."
We walk toward the parking lot together, and I offer to drive us there.
But Samantha insists on taking separate cars.
"I'll meet you at the campus coffee shop where James usually studies," she says, her voice filled with a mix of determination and fear.
"Reggie, there's something else you need to know before we get there," she says, hesitating slightly.
I stop in my tracks, sensing the gravity of her words.
"He's not just studying engineering; he's also been searching for you," she reveals, her eyes searching mine for a reaction.
I follow her through the parking lot to her car, my steps heavy with anticipation.
The music from the reunion fades into the distance as we walk.
We coordinate directions to the campus coffee shop, and Marcus catches up to us, offering to run interference with any lingering classmates who might try to stop us.
I check my phone's GPS while Samantha writes down the exact location - The Bean Scene, near the engineering building.
Before we get into our separate vehicles, she pauses and shows me one more recent photo of James on her phone.
He's in a lab coat, grinning at the camera, looking so much like I did at his age.
"He's been trying to piece together his past, Reggie," Samantha continues, her voice trembling slightly.
I nod, absorbing the weight of her revelation.
"Then it's time he finally gets the answers he's been searching for," I reply, determination settling in my chest.
I grip the steering wheel tightly, keeping Samantha's red Toyota in view as we wind through familiar streets toward State University.
My phone buzzes with a text from Marcus, wishing me luck and offering to be there if I need him.
I leave it unanswered on the passenger seat.
The photo of James peeks out from my jacket pocket, and at each stoplight, I find myself glancing at it - studying the features we share.
Samantha signals a right turn onto College Avenue, and I follow suit.
Her brake lights flicker nervously as she navigates the campus roads.
The buildings loom ahead, modern glass structures replacing the old brick ones I remember from my college days.
We pull into the parking lot, and I park beside her, cutting the engine with a shaky hand.
Samantha steps out of her car, her expression a mix of hope and anxiety.
"Reggie, if he asks why you weren't there, what will you tell him?" she asks softly, searching my face for honesty.
I lean against the car, taking a deep breath.
The evening wind carries distant laughter and the hum of students' conversations.
"I'll tell him everything," I say, my voice catching in my throat.
"About how we fell in love too young, and how your parents pushed us apart. About how I was on the cusp of making it big in wrestling right when you found out you were pregnant. And I'll tell him how I was a coward, Samantha. How I let my fear of scandal ruin our chance at being a family."
I pause, watching as tears form in her eyes.
"And I'll tell him how much I regret it, every single day."
Samantha nods slowly, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.
A campus security car drives by, casting its headlights momentarily on our faces.
She turns away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the photo of James again, studying his features one more time.
"I'm going to make this right, Samantha," I promise.
I stand there, frozen in place, as Samantha's fingers brush against the back of my hand.
It's a touch so familiar, so full of warmth and electricity that it feels like no time has passed at all.
The parking lot lights cast shadows on her face, and for a moment, I'm transported back to the stolen moments we shared in darkened classrooms and hidden corners of the campus.
She steps closer, her perfume wafting around us - the same vanilla scent she used to wear years ago.
My breath catches in my throat as she tilts her head, her eyes searching mine with a mix of uncertainty and longing.
The security car drives by again, casting its headlights over us one more time.
I notice tears glistening on her cheeks, and my heart aches with regret.
I want to reach out and pull her into my arms, to hold her close and tell her how much I've missed her.
But before I can move, before I can find the words to express everything that's bottled up inside me, Samantha's phone chimes with an incoming text message.
She glances at the screen, then looks up at me, her eyes filled with resolve.
"Come on," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"We need to go."
I follow Samantha away from the bright lights of the coffee shop and into the shadowy tree line at the edge of campus.
She walks ahead of me, her heels clicking against the concrete path before giving way to soft footfalls on the dirt trail.
The path winds between towering oaks, their branches creating dark patterns against the night sky.
The air is heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.
As we walk, I can feel the weight of our past bearing down on me.
Twenty years have passed since I last set foot on this campus, and yet, it feels like only yesterday that I was walking hand in hand with Samantha through these very woods.
We pass by a broken wooden bench, its slats weathered to a soft gray.
Samantha pauses for a moment, her eyes fixed on some distant memory.
I reach out and touch her shoulder, and she startles slightly before turning to face me. "Where are we going?" I ask softly, my voice barely audible over the rustling of leaves in the wind.
Samantha doesn't answer.
Instead, she pulls out her phone and turns on the flashlight app, casting a weak beam of light down the path ahead of us.
We continue walking in silence, our footsteps echoing through the stillness of the night.
The path begins to narrow, winding its way deeper into the woods.
The trees grow closer together here, their branches tangling overhead to form a canopy that blocks out most of the moonlight.
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as we round a bend in the path and come to a small clearing.
In the center of the clearing stands an ancient oak tree, its trunk gnarled and twisted with age.
Samantha stops at the base of the tree, her hands shaking slightly as she points her phone's beam at a spot on the trunk. I step forward, peering into the darkness to see what she's pointing at.
And then I see it - our initials, carved into the bark of the tree in bold letters: R + S. My breath catches in my throat as I reach out to touch them.
Samantha's voice trembles as she speaks.
"Do you remember the promise we made here, Reggie?"
I nod, my fingers tracing the carved letters.
"Marriage, family, forever love," I whisper, the words echoing in my mind like a mantra.
We were just teenagers when we made that promise, full of idealism and hope for the future.
But life had other plans.
My wrestling career took off, and I became a star overnight.
And Samantha's parents, they didn't approve of our relationship.
They threatened to cut her off if she stayed with me.
So we made the difficult decision to go our separate ways.
But even though we parted, those promises we made beneath this old oak tree have always stayed with me.
I've carried them in my heart all these years, a reminder of what could have been if only things had turned out differently.
Samantha's phone slips from her hand, falling to the ground with a soft thud.
The flashlight beam cuts out, plunging us into darkness once again. I reach down to pick it up, but before I can grab it, a twig snaps behind us.
Samantha gasps, her body pressing against mine as she seeks shelter in my arms.
Her vanilla scent fills my senses, transporting me back to those stolen moments we shared all those years ago.
Without thinking, my arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her close to my chest.
I hold her there, feeling her tremble against me as she grips the front of my jacket.
The carved initials above us seem to mock us, a reminder of everything we lost.
She tilts her face up, and the moonlight catches the tears on her cheeks.
My thumb brushes them away before I can stop myself.
"I never stopped thinking about you, Reggie," she whispers.
"About us."
I start to lean down, drawn by memory and need.
But then I catch myself.
Stepping back, I fumble in the darkness for her dropped phone.
The screen illuminates, casting a dim glow over our faces.
"Let's make a new promise," I say, handing it back to her.
"I mean, I can't promise forever. But for tonight, let's forget the past."
Samantha stands inches from me, her face illuminated only by the faint glow of her phone screen.
We're still beneath the old oak tree, its bark rough against my palm where our initials are carved.
It's as if we've traveled back twenty years to a time when our futures were uncertain but our feelings for each other were unwavering.
I can smell the familiar scent of her vanilla perfume and hear the distant sounds of campus life drifting through the woods.
The rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze and the chirping of crickets create a symphony of sounds that echo through the night.
The air is cool against my skin, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.
As I look down at Samantha, I feel my heart pounding in my chest.
Her brown eyes sparkle in the dim light, and I can see the faint outline of tears on her cheeks.
The corners of her mouth curve upwards slightly, forming a gentle smile that tugs at my heartstrings. The sounds of campus grow distant as I focus on the woman in front of me.
The world fades away, leaving only us in this quiet clearing under the ancient oak tree.
I study her face - the slight crinkle by her eyes when she smiles, the curve of her mouth that beckons me closer.
She looks up at me, her breath warm against my skin.
"Reggie," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sounds of nature around us.
As I stand there, frozen in time, I realize I can't resist her anymore.
Samantha's voice is soft, yet resolute. "Then let's not resist," she says, stepping closer.
I hesitate, my mind racing with the weight of the past. "What if we end up right back where we started?"
She shakes her head, determination in her eyes. "We won't know unless we try, Reggie."
I grasp her hand, the familiar softness of her fingers intertwining with mine.
It feels like a moment from twenty years ago.
We turn and make our way back down the uneven forest path, the sound of fallen leaves crunching beneath our feet echoing through the quiet night air.
The moon casts long shadows through the branches above us, illuminating the way ahead.
As we walk, Samantha stumbles over a hidden tree root.
I catch her with my other hand, steadying her at the waist.
She doesn't pull away; instead, she moves closer, our bodies almost touching as we continue down the winding path.
The campus lights come into view ahead of us, and I feel a sense of nostalgia wash over me.
Each step feels weighted with unspoken words and rekindled emotions.
I freeze mid-step when a voice cuts through the darkness behind us.
"Mom?"
It's a young man's voice, filled with confusion and uncertainty.
Samantha's hand tightens painfully around mine as we turn to face the beam of a flashlight cutting through the darkness.
There, standing at the edge of the woods, is a boy who can't be more than eighteen years old.
He has a backpack slung over one shoulder and an engineering textbook clutched to his chest.
In the harsh light of the flashlight, I see my own features mirrored in his face - the same jawline, the same nose.
His eyes dart between us, taking in our joined hands, our guilty postures.
"I followed you from the coffee shop," he says, his voice trembling.
"I saw your car, Mom. I needed to know."
Samantha's grip on my hand tightens as she whispers, "Reggie, meet your son."
I stand frozen, the flashlight beam blinding me.
The boy's words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths.
The engineering textbook slips from his grip, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
He takes a step forward, and then another, until he's standing just a few feet away from us.
Samantha releases my hand, her fingers cold and clammy against mine.
The boy looks at me, his eyes searching mine for answers.
"Daddy," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Is that really you?"
My throat tightens as I nod, unable to form words.
I study his face - the curve of his cheekbones, the shape of his eyes.
He looks so much like me, yet there's something different about him.
Something I can't quite put my finger on.
Samantha steps forward, her hand reaching out to touch our son's shoulder.
"James," she says softly.
"Let's go home. We'll talk about this later."
But James doesn't move.
He keeps his eyes fixed on me, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of my face. "I'm sorry," I say finally, my voice breaking the silence between us.
"I didn't know."
James nods slowly, as if he's trying to process everything that's happened in the past few minutes.
Then he turns and walks away, disappearing into the darkness of the forest path.
Samantha follows him, her footsteps echoing through the quiet night air.
I stand there for a long moment, watching them disappear into the distance.
Then I turn and make my way back down the forest path, my heart heavy with regret and uncertainty.
The campus lights cast long shadows through the trees as I walk back to my car.
The sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet is the only sound that breaks the silence of the night air. The drive home is long and quiet, punctuated only by the occasional passing car on the highway.
I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead of me, trying not to think about what just happened in those woods.
But it's no use - I can't get James' face out of my mind.
His eyes haunt me, filled with confusion and uncertainty.
I feel like I've failed him somehow, even though I had no idea he existed until tonight.
As I pull into my driveway, I see Samantha standing outside her front door across the street.
I cross the empty street, my shoes scraping against the asphalt in the quiet night.
The porch light illuminates her tear-stained face as she leans against her front door.
When I reach her steps, she pulls out a photograph from her purse.
It's a picture of a baby boy wrapped in a blue blanket, his small face scrunched up in a frown.
I've never seen this photo before, but there's no mistaking that it's James.
My hands shake as I take the photo from Samantha.
She stands close to me, her shoulder brushing against mine as we look at the picture together.
"We need to figure out how to do this," she says softly.
"How to introduce you into James' life."
I nod slowly, my eyes fixed on the photograph in my hand.
"I don't know where to start," I admit.
Samantha sighs deeply, her breath visible in the cool night air.
"Let's start with something simple," she says finally.
"How about we have dinner at my house every week? Just the three of us."
I nod again, feeling a sense of determination wash over me.
"Yes," I say firmly.
"That sounds like a good place to start."
But Samantha's voice catches when she speaks again.
"My husband might not like this," she says quietly.
"He's always been possessive of James. He might not want you involved in his life." My grip on the photograph tightens as I look up at Samantha.
"We'll figure something out," I say firmly.
"I'm not going to let him keep me away from James."
I sit in my parked car outside Samantha's house, watching James through the living room window as he does his homework at the dining table.
His stepfather Mark enters the room, placing a protective hand on James' shoulder as he looks out at my car.
When Samantha joins them, Mark's body language becomes tense and possessive.
I grip the steering wheel tightly, fighting the urge to march up there and assert my rights as James' biological father.
Instead, I start the engine and slowly drive away.
