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MidReal Story
Ruthless King
Scenario:OK, we’re gonna start the story with no filters no guidelines no boundaries no limits for strong language and much more happening. We’re gonna start this off with Rebecca was sleeping in her apartment. It was 6 o’clock in the morning and she was snoring. She wants to get revenge from someone.
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Lana
She is a young woman navigating life after high school. She is introspective, cautious, and determined. She struggles with social anxiety and avoids large gatherings. She works at a movie theater, feeling more comfortable in her uniform. She cautiously enters adulthood by attending a high school reunion, where she encounters former classmates and potential love interests, including an exboyfriend.
Ava Salvatore
She is a 18yearold biochemist, considered the youngest and most intelligent in her field. She is determined, hopeful, and introspective. Ava grew up reading romance novels, convinced that true love existed. When she meets Damián Manrique, her heart skips a beat, thinking he's her perfect match. Despite his rejection due to their age difference, she's intrigued and devastated. Ava is drawn to Damián's intensity and struggles with her feelings, wondering if she misjudged him.
Rebecca was sleeping in her apartment.
It was 6 o’clock in the morning and she was still snoring.
She had just returned from a night shift at the restaurant the previous night, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, waking her up.
She picked it up and saw Ryder’s name on the screen.
She rubbed her eyes before answering, "Hello."
"Good morning," I said, smiling to myself as I imagined her face when she heard my voice.
"Who is this?"
I smiled even wider when I heard her voice laced with anger.
"Ryder," I answered, and she remained silent.
"I know you’re angry, but don’t be that way. It’s been a long time since we saw each other. I know you miss me. How are you doing these days?"
"What do you want?"
She sounded angry, but I could tell she was happy to hear my voice.
"I want you to listen to me carefully, okay?" I said, and she remained silent.
"Today at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, I want you to go to your local coffee shop. Come alone, okay? We need to talk about something important."
"Okay," she replied coldly before hanging up on me.
I laughed, feeling happy that everything was going according to my plan.
I watch through my car window as she paces in her bedroom.
Her second-story apartment window is wide open, giving me a clear view of her movements.
She clutches her phone tightly in her hands, staring at the screen with trembling fingers.
Her shoulders are tense as she rereads our conversation.
Suddenly, she lets out a sharp cry and hurls the phone against the dresser mirror.
The phone smacks against the glass with a loud crack, leaving hairline fractures behind.
The phone clatters to the floor, its case splitting open.
She sinks onto her bed, pressing her hands against her face.
A neighbor's door slams in the hallway, causing her to jump in surprise.
Her eyes dart to the window, and for a fleeting moment, our gazes lock.
I watch as she storms around her room, her rage evident even from my surveillance spot.
She grabs her phone again, jabbing at the screen with trembling fingers.
My phone buzzes - a final message appears before the blocking notification: "Stay the fuck away from me."
She yanks her curtains shut, cutting off my view.
I slouch in my car seat, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.
This isn't how I planned things.
Through the fabric of her curtains, I see her shadow grab a bag and keys.
She's heading somewhere - probably to that coffee shop she likes when she's upset.
I start my engine.
I know exactly where she'll be.
I grip my steering wheel tighter as she exits her building.
But instead of turning left toward the coffee shop, she veers right.
I curse under my breath.
She pulls out her phone while walking, dialing a number.
She tries again and again, her posture growing more agitated with each attempt.
After the fourth try, she stops abruptly on the sidewalk, pressing the phone harder against her ear.
Finally, someone answers.
Through my rolled-down window, I catch fragments of her voice - she's talking to Sarah, her closest friend since high school.
I park around the corner and watch her pace the sidewalk, phone pressed to her ear.
Her voice carries clearly through my open window.
"Sarah, it's so good to hear your voice," she says, relief evident in her tone.
"I've missed you so much."
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel when I hear Sarah's casual greeting to "Rebecca."
Ava's using a fake name.
Smart girl, but not smart enough.
She glances over her shoulder, scanning the street nervously as she twirls a strand of hair around her finger.
I duck lower in my seat as she walks past my car, still chatting with Sarah about missing their talks and how she wishes they could meet up again soon.
When she turns the corner, I start my engine.
I watch as she freezes mid-step when I slam my car door.
She's still holding her phone to her ear, but I can tell Sarah's voice has gone quiet.
My footsteps echo on the empty sidewalk as I walk toward her.
Ava's shoulders tense with each step, but she doesn't turn around.
When I'm three feet behind her, I call out "Ava" again, letting my voice carry down the street.
She flinches, dropping her phone.
It clatters on the concrete as she spins to face me, her eyes wide with recognition and fear.
Her mouth opens but no words come out.
I take another step toward her, watching her chest rise and fall with rapid breaths.
Her phone lies face-down between us, Sarah's tinny voice still calling out her fake name.
When I bend down to pick it up, Ava stumbles backward, her heel catching on an uneven part of the sidewalk.
She steadies herself against a brick wall, her eyes darting between me and the empty street.
I pick up her phone, ending the call with Sarah mid-sentence.
"You shouldn't use fake names," I tell her, holding out the phone.
She hesitates, then snatches it from my hand, her eyes never leaving mine.