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MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Revenge
Scenario:Shane Weber has led a hard broken life, a poor orphan, and his girlfriend is leaving him for a more richer prospect. But his fortune is about to change dramatically. Shane inherited immense wealth from his grandfather, shocking everyone. He was the heir to the only multi-googolaire family in the world. He endures constant criticism and judgment from those around him. He vowed that those who labeled him a failure would eventually bow at his feet. How will he use his new-found wealth to shape those around him, as he reclaims his life?. With a new-found sense of responsibility, Shane will get revenge on those who mistreated him? Will he succeed?
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Shane Weber
He is a former orphan who was raised in foster care, discovering he is the heir to a multibillion dollar fortune. He is resilient, sarcastic, and determined. Shane faced immense poverty and hardship but never gave up. His life took a drastic turn when his adoptive parents kicked him out due to financial struggles. His exgirlfriend left him for someone richer. Despite criticism and judgment, Shane inherits the wealth, vowing revenge and social climb.
Grandfather
He is Shane’s wealthy grandfather who left him his entire estate. He is wise, secretive, and protective. Grandfather showed kindness to Shane by taking him in as a child and providing for his needs anonymously through gifts. Only revealing the extent of his generosity after his death, Grandfather’s actions ultimately changed Shane's fate from poverty to wealth, giving Shane the means to seek revenge on those who wronged him.
Penelope
She is Shane's exgirlfriend who left him for another man due to financial reasons. She is selfish, materialistic, and shallow. Penelope valued Shane only for his potential wealth, discarding him as soon as she found someone richer. Her relationship with Shane was marked by her constant criticism and desire for luxury, ultimately leading to their breakup and failure of their future plans.
I was an orphan, a poor boy with no one to care for me.
I was raised in foster care, moving from home to home until I was sixteen.
At that point, I was placed with a family that appeared to be kind and welcoming.
They were the Weinsteins, a family of great wealth, and they had taken me in as one of their own.
But things weren’t always as they seemed.
Two years later, when I turned eighteen, they kicked me out of their home.
It didn’t matter that I was still in high school, or that I had nowhere to go.
All that mattered was that Penelope, their daughter, had found a new love interest—a richer one—and she didn’t want me around anymore.
So out into the world I went, all alone and with no direction.
It didn’t matter that I was an honor student, or that I had applied and been accepted to several prestigious universities.
I had no money to pay for it, and my chances of getting a scholarship were slim.
The day I left the Weinsteins' home was the day my life changed forever.
I stand frozen at the ornate iron gates, my backpack heavy with the few possessions they let me keep.
The setting sun casts long shadows across the manicured lawn where I used to study.
Through the windows of the mansion, I can see Penelope watching me from her second-floor bedroom.
She quickly draws the curtains when our eyes meet.
My hand traces the cold metal of the gate, remembering all the times I passed through it, believing I belonged.
The security guard clears his throat meaningfully, and I adjust my backpack straps before stepping onto the sidewalk.
Dragging my feet along the cracked sidewalk, I pass the manicured hedges and pristine lawns of the neighborhood I used to call home.
My backpack feels heavier with each step, stuffed with the few possessions they let me keep: some clothes, my laptop, and the college acceptance letters that now seem worthless.
The setting sun casts long shadows across the empty street as I count the loose change in my pocket—barely enough for bus fare.
A sleek Mercedes cruises by, and I catch a glimpse of Penelope in the passenger seat, laughing with her new boyfriend.
She doesn’t even glance my way.
Adjusting my backpack straps, I force myself to turn away from the Weinstein mansion and start walking east, where the cheaper motels cluster near the highway.
The setting sun casts my shadow long across the manicured lawns of my former neighbors.
I pass the corner store where I used to buy Penelope's favorite snacks, the park bench where we studied together, and the bus stop where I waited for her after school.
Each familiar sight twists like a knife in my chest, but I keep moving forward, counting my remaining dollars.
As I reach the bus stop, a familiar voice calls out from behind me.
"Hey, wait up!" It's Marcus, the Weinsteins' chauffeur, jogging to catch up.
"I heard what happened—listen, there's something you need to know about Penelope's new boyfriend."
Marcus catches his breath as I turn to face him.
His usually pristine uniform is wrinkled, and his tie is loose from running.
He glances over his shoulder nervously before lowering his voice.
"He's not who he says he is."
I frown, leaning against the street lamp as a car drives by.
"What do you mean?"
Marcus glances around nervously again before answering in a hushed voice.
"He's broke. All that money he's throwing around? It's fake. He rents those luxury cars for the day and borrows designer clothes from friends. I've seen him return them to the store myself."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but Marcus isn't finished.
"I overheard him on the phone with some debt collectors in the Weinsteins' driveway. He was begging them for more time to pay his debts. I couldn't believe it—Penelope's parents would never approve if they knew." Part of me wants to expose this fraud, but I remain silent, watching the sunset reflect off the mansion windows in the distance.
Marcus hands me a folded note with the boyfriend's real name and background details.
"Take this," Marcus says, pressing the note into my hand.
"Why are you telling me all this?" I ask, still processing the revelation.
"Because you deserve to know the truth, and maybe... maybe you can save Penelope from making a huge mistake."
I walk past rows of manicured hedges, Marcus's footsteps fading behind me as the note weighs heavy in my jacket pocket.
The closest motel is two miles ahead - a dingy place called the Sunset Inn where truckers often stop.
My shoes scrape against the sidewalk as I count my remaining cash: forty-three dollars and some coins.
A police cruiser rolls by slowly, the officer eyeing my backpack with suspicion.
I quicken my pace, keeping my head down until the patrol car turns the corner.
I reach the Sunset Inn and push through the creaky door.
The lobby smells like stale cigarettes and worn carpets.
A bored clerk watches late-night TV behind the front desk, barely looking up as I approach.
"Room for one night," I say, digging into my pocket for cash.
The note about Penelope's boyfriend crinkles against my thigh as I hand over thirty dollars.
The clerk hands me a key with a number scribbled on a tag.
"Room 17. Checkout's 11 am."
I nod and head down the hallway lined with flickering fluorescent lights.
Room 17 is cramped with a single bed, a small nightstand, and a flickering lamp.
I drop my backpack on the floor and sit on the bed, which squeaks in protest.
Pulling out the crumpled paper from my pocket, I stare at it for a long moment before unfolding it.
The truth about Penelope's boyfriend won't change anything.
I tear the paper into tiny pieces and flush them down the toilet. Then I pull out my phone and delete Penelope's number, knowing I'll never see her again.
I lie on the squeaky motel bed, staring at water stains on the ceiling.
The fluorescent light outside my window buzzes like a swarm of bees.
Sometime after midnight, I hear footsteps outside my room and someone knocks softly on the door.
I approach cautiously, peering through the peephole to see Marcus shifting his weight from one foot to another.
He's still in his chauffeur uniform, but his tie is gone and his collar is unbuttoned.
I unlock the door and open it, surprised to see him here so late.
Marcus glances down the hallway nervously before speaking in a low voice.
"I quit my job with the Weinsteins," he says, his words spilling out quickly.
"I couldn't work for them anymore after seeing how they treated you. I'm sorry for not standing up for you sooner."
I'm taken aback by his confession, but before I can respond, Marcus continues.
"I have a spare room in my apartment. You're welcome to stay there while you figure things out. It's nothing fancy, but it's close to downtown and you're welcome to stay as long as you need."
My mind races with questions and doubts.
The last time I trusted someone's offer of hospitality, it didn't end well.
Marcus must sense my hesitation because he pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and starts walking away without another word. I stand there for a moment, torn between uncertainty and gratitude.
Then I grab my backpack and follow him out into the parking lot.
Marcus unlocks a beat-up Honda Civic with faded paint and motions for me to get in.
I buckle my seatbelt as he starts the engine and begins driving away from the Sunset Inn.
"Why did you really quit, Marcus?" I ask, breaking the silence.
He glances at me, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability.
"Because I realized life's too short to work for people who don't respect you or those you care about."
