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MidReal Story
The Wrangler's Secret Baby
Scenario:I have a crush named Tegan, and I don't know if he has a crush on me back, and one day me and him we're going on a camping trip riding our horses, and he came into my tent, at night. MY name is Ginnie.
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Ginnie
She is a young girl on a horseriding trip with her father. She is curious, nervous, and hopeful. Ginnie has a crush on Tegan, a fellow rider. During a camping trip, she experiences her first real horse accident and faces her fears. When she's alone in her tent, Tegan unexpectedly visits, and they share a moment of connection. Ginnie is excited and nervous about the possibility of a romantic encounter, while grappling with her parents' impending divorce.
Ginnie's Father
He is a professional photographer leading a group horseriding trip. He is caring, patient, and supportive. Ginnie's father is going through a divorce but still shows concern for Ginnie's wellbeing. He sets boundaries during the trip to focus on work. Despite his busy schedule, he remains attentive to Ginnie's needs and encourages her to face her fears after the accident. His presence provides Ginnie with some comfort amidst her personal turmoil.
Tegan
He is a young man who works as a wrangler on horseriding trips. He is confident, friendly, and attentive. Tegan has caught Ginnie's eye, and she wonders if he feels the same way. During the trip, he helps Ginnie after her horse falls. When they are alone in the tent at night, Tegan reassures Ginnie and they share a meaningful moment, hinting at potential feelings beyond friendship.
I have a crush on Tegan.
He’s one of the wranglers on this horseriding trip my dad’s leading.
I think he might be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
I don’t know if he likes me back, but I’m hoping this camping trip will give me a chance to find out.
"Okay, girls, time to switch horses."
I look over at my friend, Emily, and grin.
This is the fifth day of our trip, and I’m so glad my dad decided to let me come along.
It’s perfect timing, too, since my parents are getting divorced and I don’t want to be at home right now.
"Are you sure you’re okay after what happened?"
Emily asks.
I nod, swallowing hard.
That was the first real horse accident I’ve been in, and it was scary.
My horse had slipped and fallen—taking me with her.
Luckily, neither of us is hurt.
Well, not too badly, anyway.
My butt is still sore from landing on the ground.
But Tegan had helped me up and given me a hug that made my heart stop.
I didn’t think he’d do that if he didn’t like me back, right?
I gather my courage while watching Tegan adjust the saddle straps on his horse.
My hands are shaking as I lead my horse over to his.
I pretend to check my stirrups, but really, I’m trying to figure out how to get his attention without looking like a total dork.
Emily shoots me an encouraging thumbs-up from across the group, and I smile back at her.
When Tegan straightens up, I clear my throat and step forward.
But my boot catches on a root, and I stumble.
I grab onto my horse’s reins to keep from falling, and Tegan turns around.
He reaches out a hand to steady me, and I feel warmth spread through my body at the touch of his fingers on my arm.
"I-I was wondering if you’d like to ride next to me," I blurt out, the words rushing out before I can stop them.
He glances around at the other riders, then nods and leads me and our horses a few steps away from the group.
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
He adjusts his hat, not looking at me.
I fidget with my reins, waiting.
Finally, he looks up, and the morning sun catches his face.
I notice for the first time that there are little lines of worry around his eyes.
He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can speak, my dad calls out that it’s time to mount up and get moving.
Tegan’s shoulders tense, and he squeezes my arm again.
"We’ll talk later," he says, then hurries off to help another rider who needs help getting on her horse.
I climb onto my horse, feeling like I’m going to throw up.
What did he mean by "we’ll talk later"?
Is that good or bad?
The sky darkens as we ride single file along the narrow trail.
I look up and see Tegan glancing back at the clouds gathering behind us.
His shoulders are tense, and I can tell he’s worried about something.
A distant rumble makes my horse’s ears twitch, and I grip the reins tighter.
I don’t want to fall off again.
The air feels heavy around us, and I can smell the rain coming.
My horse snorts and dances sideways when the first fat raindrops hit his neck.
I look ahead to Tegan, hoping he’ll give me some direction, but he’s busy trying to calm his own mount.
Lightning flashes across the mountains, closer than before.
The storm is coming, and with it, a truth I can't ignore.
The rain pounds harder, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of us.
My horse dances beneath me, and I grip the reins tighter.
Dad’s voice calls out directions, but I can’t hear him over the rain.
Tegan’s horse bolts off the trail, and before I can stop her, my horse follows.
We crash through wet branches that slap at my face, and I duck down to avoid getting knocked off.
Lightning flashes again, and for a split second, I see Tegan’s back ahead of me.
My heart is racing as we splash through a creek and then up a steep hill.
Finally, our horses slow to a trot, then a walk.
I look around, but I can’t see anyone else from the group.
The rain is coming down so hard now that it’s difficult to see more than a few feet in front of us.
I’m soaked to the bone and shivering.
Tegan turns his horse around and comes back to me.
"Are you okay?" he shouts over the rain, his voice barely audible above the storm.
"Yeah, just a bit shaken," I reply, trying to steady my breath.
He leans closer, his eyes intense. "There's something I need to tell you—it's about your dad."
I huddle closer to him, my wet hair plastered to my face.
Our horses stand head-to-tail, trying to block the wind.
Thunder crashes overhead, and I flinch.
Tegan keeps glancing around like he’s making sure we’re alone.
His hand grips his saddle horn so tight his knuckles turn white.
I lean forward, straining to hear him over the storm.
"I don’t know how to say this," he says, his voice cracking with emotion.
I feel my stomach churning again.
"Tegan, what’s wrong?" "It’s about the divorce," he says, then pauses as if gathering his thoughts.
Suddenly, we hear the sound of hoofbeats approaching through the darkness.
"Wait, I think someone’s coming," Tegan says, looking around nervously.
Through the rain, I make out a shape moving toward us on horseback.
My heart starts racing again.
Tegan shifts in his saddle, putting himself in front of me like he’s protecting me from something.
The approaching rider’s arm raises something long and dark—maybe a branch or a pole.
Their horse stamps its hooves nervously, and I hear angry words pierce the storm: "Get away from her!"
The voice sounds familiar but is distorted by the rain and the fury behind it.
Tegan’s hands tighten on his reins as the figure draws closer.
Our horses dance sideways, sensing the tension.
Lightning flashes again, and for a split second, I see the metallic glint of what looks like a rifle barrel.
My throat closes up as I realize who it must be.
"Tegan, it's Dad!" I shout, my voice trembling with fear and disbelief.
He turns to me, eyes wide. "I didn't know he'd follow us here."
The rider pulls up sharply, rain dripping off the brim of his hat. "You think you can just run off and hide the truth from her?"
I dismount into ankle-deep mud, my boots sucking into the mire.
The rain pelts my face, and I squint to see.
Dad keeps the rifle trained on Tegan, his finger tight on the trigger.
Thunder cracks overhead again, making our horses snort and pull at their reins.
I take small steps forward, watching Dad’s finger.
My wet hair clings to my face, and I brush it away so I can see better.
"Tegan, get away from her!"
Dad yells again.
I try to catch his eye, but he stares past me at Tegan.
"Whatever this is about, we can figure it out," I say, my voice barely carrying over the wind.
Dad’s hands tremble on the rifle.
When I reach for the barrel, he j##s it away, making me stumble backward.
The rain continues to fall as Dad lowers the rifle, his eyes finally meeting mine with a mix of anger and regret.
As the rain continues to pour, Tegan dismounts and stands beside me, his hand reaching for mine.
I feel the warmth of his grip as he whispers, "I won't let anything happen to you."
Dad watches us, his rifle still in hand but lowered.
I glance between them, my heart pounding.
Tegan's eyes stay locked on mine, offering reassurance.
Dad's expression softens slightly, but he remains tense.
I squeeze Tegan's hand, finding comfort in his presence.
The storm rages around us, but Tegan's steady hold keeps me grounded.
I step closer to Dad, my boots sinking into the mud.
Rain drips from my hair, and I reach out, my hand trembling.
"Dad, please," I say, my voice barely audible over the storm.
He looks at me, his eyes softening but still holding onto the rifle.
Tegan squeezes my hand, offering silent support.
I take another step, feeling the tension between us.
Dad's grip on the rifle loosens slightly.
"Dad, you don't have to do this," I plead, my voice breaking.
He hesitates, glancing at Tegan with a mixture of suspicion and sorrow.
"You deserve to know the truth about your mother," he finally says, his voice cracking.
I stand between Dad and Tegan, rain soaking us as I nod for him to continue.
He hesitates, his grip on the rifle loosening further.
Tegan squeezes my hand, offering silent support.
Dad's eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of pain and resolve.
He takes a deep breath and begins to speak, his voice barely audible over the storm.
"Your mother... she wasn't who you thought she was," he says, his words hanging heavy in the air.
I lean closer, straining to hear every word.
Tegan shifts nervously beside me, his horse snorting softly.
The rain continues to fall around us, but all I can focus on is Dad's revelation.
"She was involved in something dangerous," he admits, his voice cracking with emotion.
I stand there shivering, the rain pounding against my skin as I grip Tegan's hand tightly.
Dad hesitates, his rifle now resting against his leg, his eyes locked on mine.
He takes a deep breath and continues, "Your mother... she was involved with some dangerous people. She was in deep."
I lean closer, straining to hear over the storm.
Tegan squeezes my hand, offering silent support.
Dad's words hang heavy in the air, and I can feel the weight of his confession.
"She made some bad choices," he admits, his voice filled with regret.
"She got in over her head."
The rain continues to pour around us, but I can't tear my eyes away from Dad's face.
His expression is filled with pain and guilt, and I can see the burden he's carried for so long.
"She was involved in something illegal," he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I step back, my mind racing with the implications of his words.
Tegan holds onto my hand tightly, offering me strength.
I stand there, still holding Tegan's hand, as Dad leans his rifle against his leg.
The rain continues to fall around us, but I can't focus on anything but the weight of Dad's words.
I look at him, my voice shaking with urgency.
"What do we do now?"
Dad looks at me, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination.
"We have to leave," he says, his voice firm.
"We have to get out of here."
Tegan nods in agreement, his grip on my hand tightening.
"But where will we go?" I ask, my voice barely steady.
Dad glances at Tegan, then back at me, resolve hardening his features.
"Somewhere they can't find us," he replies, determination cutting through the storm.
I stand there, still gripping Tegan's hand tightly, as a stranger on horseback approaches us.
Dad instinctively raises his rifle, eyeing the newcomer warily.
The stranger is a middle-aged woman with a stern face and a determined look in her eyes.
She dismounts her horse and approaches us cautiously.
"Who are you?" Dad asks, his voice firm and protective.
The woman looks at him, her expression unwavering.
"I'm someone who can help you," she says, her voice steady.
"What do you mean?"
Dad asks, his grip on the rifle tightening.
The woman glances at Tegan and me, then back at Dad.
"I know what your wife did," she says, her voice low and serious.
"And I can help you get out of this situation."
Dad looks at her skeptically, but the woman continues before he can speak.
"I have a safe house where you can stay," she explains.
"And I can get you new identities. You'll be able to start over."
Tegan and I exchange a glance, both of us unsure of what to make of this stranger's offer.
But Dad seems to consider it carefully, his eyes narrowing as he weighs his options. Finally, he nods slowly.
"Okay," he says, his voice firm.
"We'll follow you."
The woman nods in response, turning to remount her horse.
As we prepare to leave, I squeeze Tegan's hand tightly, trying to find some sense of comfort in the midst of all this chaos.
We follow the woman through the stormy night, our hearts pounding with uncertainty and fear.
I hesitate as we follow the woman through the storm, my grip on Tegan's hand tightening.
She glances back at us, her eyes seeming too knowing, too calculating.
Something about her doesn't feel right.
As she leads us deeper into the wilderness, I lean close to Tegan and whisper, "I don't trust her."
He nods, his face set in a tense expression.
Without warning, I pull my hand free from his and spur my horse forward.
Tegan follows close behind as we break away from the group, leaving the woman and Dad behind.
The storm swallows our retreat, leaving only the sound of pounding hooves and the unknown ahead.
I guide my horse through sheets of rain, following a faint shape in the distance that I pray is a building.
Tegan rides close behind, his horse's hooves squelching in the mud.
When lightning flashes, I catch a glimpse of a wooden structure ahead.
We dismount and lead our horses under a leaning overhang, seeking shelter from the torrent.
The building appears to be an old cabin, its windows broken and its door hanging crookedly on its hinges.
Tegan tests the door, and it creaks open with a dreadful screech.
Inside, we find dusty furniture and cobwebs clinging to the corners.
We secure the door with a rusty latch and stand there, water dripping from our clothes onto the wooden floor.
The wind howls outside, rattling the windows and making the cabin feel like it might collapse at any moment.