Caught My Boyfriend Cheating on the Kiss Cam
Coralie Sullivan · Completed · 8.7k Words
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Introduction
I was at my favorite artist's concert, phone up, recording the Kiss Cam segment. My boyfriend Mason said he was three hours away having dinner at his parents' house and couldn't make it, even sent me a selfie as proof.
Then the Kiss Cam found him.
On the giant screen, Mason wore the exact same gray vintage rock tee and black ripped jeans from his "family dinner photo," his arm around a blonde girl with her head on his shoulder.
The arena erupted: "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
He looked like he'd seen a ghost, frantically trying to block the camera.
My phone's location alert read: "Mason is nearby (0.1 miles)."
Three years of us, exposed as a massive lie in front of thousands of cheering strangers.
Then the Kiss Cam found him.
On the giant screen, Mason wore the exact same gray vintage rock tee and black ripped jeans from his "family dinner photo," his arm around a blonde girl with her head on his shoulder.
The arena erupted: "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
He looked like he'd seen a ghost, frantically trying to block the camera.
My phone's location alert read: "Mason is nearby (0.1 miles)."
Three years of us, exposed as a massive lie in front of thousands of cheering strangers.
Chapter 1
Kenna's POV
I stood in front of my mirror adjusting my vintage band tee, the faded one Mason always said made my eyes pop. Ripped jeans, studded belt, combat boots. Perfect. I grabbed my phone to snap a selfie for him.
Mason. My boyfriend since junior year of high school. We'd survived the transition from our small hometown to college together, beat the odds that everyone said would break us up. Three years and counting. I was happy. Really happy. Tonight we were supposed to go see my favorite artist together, I'd been talking about this concert for months, and he'd promised he'd be there.
Before I could send it, his name flashed across my screen. Video call.
His face filled the screen and I felt that stupid flutter in my chest. Behind him I could see his parents' living room, that beige couch, the family photos. He was wearing my favorite outfit on him. Gray vintage rock tee, black ripped jeans. God, he looked good.
"Babe, I'm so sorry." He sounded genuinely upset. "My dad suddenly called everyone home for this family thing. I feel terrible."
Everything inside me just... deflated. Please not today. I'd been counting down to this for weeks. Every time I looked at the tickets taped to my bulletin board, I'd imagined us there together. His arm around me during the slow songs. Taking those stupid couple selfies I'd post later. Stop it. Don't be selfish. It's his family. But I made myself smile anyway. "It's okay, family comes first. We'll catch the next show together."
"You're the best, Kenna. I promise, next time I won't miss it." He flipped the camera to show me a quick selfie he'd taken, same gray tee, same jeans, his family visible in the background. "Stuck here for the whole evening. Wish I was there with you instead."
I wish you were here too. After we hung up, I stared at myself in the mirror. The excited girl from five minutes ago had disappeared. Now I just looked... sad. Get over it. He didn't want to ditch you. These things happen. I tried to pump myself back up. This was still my favorite artist. I could still have a good time.
"Girl, are you sure you wanna go alone?" My roommate Lily appeared in my doorway.
I shook my head. "This is my favorite artist, Lily. I can't miss it. I'll be fine."
I had to be fine.
The arena was packed. Thousands of people, lights flashing everywhere, music so loud I could feel it in my bones. I found my seat in general admission, squeezed between couples holding hands and taking selfies.
Mason should be here. I shoved the thought away.
When the lights went down and that first guitar riff exploded through the speakers, I let myself disappear into it. This was why I came. I held up my phone to record a TikTok, the stage, the lights, the pure rush of live music.
Then my phone buzzed.
"Mason is nearby (0.1 miles)"
My hand froze. What? I stared at the notification, refreshed the app twice. The little location dot didn't budge. This has to be wrong. He's three hours away. The app must be glitching. But my stomach was already twisting.
This has to be wrong. He's three hours away.
I typed fast: "Hey, where are you right now?"
His reply came back almost instantly: "Still at home. Signal's bad though. I'll call you later."
My chest went tight. Bad signal but you can text me just fine? I tried to think of reasonable explanations. Maybe he'd left his phone somewhere. Maybe the location services were screwed up.
"Your boyfriend stood you up too?" The girl next to me leaned over. "Men, right?"
I managed some kind of smile but my brain was spinning. He wouldn't lie to me. Not Mason. We've been together for three years. He loves me. But I couldn't shake the sick feeling crawling up my throat.
"Alright everyone, it's time for my favorite part of the night!" The host's voice boomed as the stage lights dimmed. "Kiss Cam time! Let's see some love out there!"
The giant screens lit up and the camera started hunting through the crowd. Everyone around me was cheering, getting ready. I held up my phone again, recording, I always loved this part. Watching strangers kiss on the big screen was weirdly sweet.
First couple appeared. Young, shy, everyone clapped. Then an older couple that made the whole arena go "awww." I smiled despite the knot in my stomach.
Then the camera swung to VIP.
Everything stopped.
Mason. Right there on the screen. Gray rock tee. Black ripped jeans. The exact same clothes from his "family dinner" photo. His arm wrapped around some blonde girl I'd never seen, her head on his shoulder.
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He doesn't answer.
So she asks: 'What are we?’
He told her not to fall in love with one piece.
She fell anyway.
And he was never far behind.
Mission: Steal the Male Lead
909 Views · Ongoing · Tintedverry
Morwenna de Lacy awakens inside the bestselling romance novel she hates most—and discovers she has become the villainess fiancée destined to die before the story even reaches its midpoint. Her only hope for survival lies in the mysterious Audience Satisfaction System, which assigns increasingly impossible missions: make the cold Duke Corwin Winterveil fall in love, outshine the beloved heroine, and avoid every death flag written into the original plot. In a glittering empire of noble scandals, royal engagements, magical aristocrats, and ancient gods, one wrong move could cost her everything.
But the more Morwenna changes the story, the stranger the world becomes. The heroine seems to know the future, unseen spectators begin commenting on her life, and the gods watching from above grow obsessed with the drama unfolding before them. Trapped in a story where fate has already decided the ending, Morwenna must choose whether to follow the script or rewrite it entirely. But if the world itself was never meant to belong to its characters, can she steal the male lead before fate steals her freedom first?
But the more Morwenna changes the story, the stranger the world becomes. The heroine seems to know the future, unseen spectators begin commenting on her life, and the gods watching from above grow obsessed with the drama unfolding before them. Trapped in a story where fate has already decided the ending, Morwenna must choose whether to follow the script or rewrite it entirely. But if the world itself was never meant to belong to its characters, can she steal the male lead before fate steals her freedom first?
The CEO Above My Desk
661.5k Views · Completed · McKenzie Shinabery
“You think she needs you,” he says.
“I know she does.”
“And what if she doesn’t want this kind of protection?”
“She will,” I say, my voice lowering slightly. “Because she needs a man who can give her the world.”
“And if the world burns?”
My hand tightens subtly at Violet’s waist.
“Then I’ll build her a new one,” I reply. “Even if I have to burn the old one down myself.”
I don’t work for Rowan Ashcroft.
I work beneath him.
From my desk, I decide who gets access to the most ruthless CEO in the city, and who never makes it past the lobby. I manage his time, his silence, his enemies. I keep his world running while my own quietly collapses under unpaid bills, a mother locked in rehab, and a brother who vanished without a goodbye.
Rowan Ashcroft is power wrapped in a tailored suit.
Cold. Untouchable. Merciless.
He doesn’t flirt. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t see people, only usefulness.
And for a long time, I was just useful.
Until he started watching.
A shift in his attention is subtle at first. A pause too long. A look that lingers. Orders that pull me closer instead of pushing me away. The man who stands above my desk begins to control more than my schedule, and I realize too late that being noticed by Rowan Ashcroft is far more dangerous than being ignored.
Because men like him don’t crave affection.
They crave possession.
This was supposed to be a job.
Not a test of my limits.
Not a slow, deliberate descent into his authority.
But if Rowan Ashcroft decides I belong under his desk, then so be it.
Survival has a price, and the bills don’t care how I pay them.
“I know she does.”
“And what if she doesn’t want this kind of protection?”
“She will,” I say, my voice lowering slightly. “Because she needs a man who can give her the world.”
“And if the world burns?”
My hand tightens subtly at Violet’s waist.
“Then I’ll build her a new one,” I reply. “Even if I have to burn the old one down myself.”
I don’t work for Rowan Ashcroft.
I work beneath him.
From my desk, I decide who gets access to the most ruthless CEO in the city, and who never makes it past the lobby. I manage his time, his silence, his enemies. I keep his world running while my own quietly collapses under unpaid bills, a mother locked in rehab, and a brother who vanished without a goodbye.
Rowan Ashcroft is power wrapped in a tailored suit.
Cold. Untouchable. Merciless.
He doesn’t flirt. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t see people, only usefulness.
And for a long time, I was just useful.
Until he started watching.
A shift in his attention is subtle at first. A pause too long. A look that lingers. Orders that pull me closer instead of pushing me away. The man who stands above my desk begins to control more than my schedule, and I realize too late that being noticed by Rowan Ashcroft is far more dangerous than being ignored.
Because men like him don’t crave affection.
They crave possession.
This was supposed to be a job.
Not a test of my limits.
Not a slow, deliberate descent into his authority.
But if Rowan Ashcroft decides I belong under his desk, then so be it.
Survival has a price, and the bills don’t care how I pay them.
