Capítulo 2: Bitterness, Jealousy and Disdain
Annie and I were inseparable from the moment we met in the orphanage. Growing up together, she became the very essence of my existence, the one constant in a world full of uncertainty. And then there was Matt, the spoiled rich kid who waltzed into our lives through community service. Despite our initial clashes, we found common ground and became fast friends, forming a trio that felt unbreakable – the three musketeers: Jason, Matt, and Annie.
During my college days, I had a vision to start our own company, and Matt, with his trust fund and unwavering belief in me, joined forces to bring J&M Entertainment to life. Our first signing was Annie, who had always dreamed of becoming an actress. Aware of the cutthroat nature of the entertainment industry, I wanted to create a safe haven for her to flourish. And flourish she did, with our company providing a supportive platform for her to shine.
Everything seemed perfect, and I was on the cusp of taking our relationship to the next level by proposing to Annie. But fate had other plans. Two years ago, I walked into a scene that would shatter my world - Annie and Matt, my business partner and best friend, together in bed. The betrayal was crippling, and my dreams of a future with Annie were reduced to ashes. The company we built together was now tainted by the memories of their deceit.
The jarring shock of discovering Annie and Matt together sent me spiraling into a dark abyss of despair. Seeking refuge from the torment gnawing at my soul, I sought solace in the dimly lit sanctuary of a nearby bar. With each gulp of alcohol, the pain and betrayal weighed heavier on my heart, drowning me in a sea of numbing oblivion.
As the night wore on and my senses dulled, I made the fateful decision to leave the bar, my mind clouded by a haze of alcohol-induced stupor. Behind the wheel of my car, I navigated the darkened streets with reckless abandon, my thoughts consumed by the haunting image of Annie and Matt intertwined in betrayal.
In a moment of recklessness, I lost control of the vehicle, sliding off the road and colliding with a towering tree. The impact was devastating, the sound of shattering glass mingling with the screech of twisting metal as my world was torn apart. Pain seared through my body as shards of glass tore through flesh, leaving half of my face disfigured in their wake.
In the aftermath of the crash, as the sirens wailed in the distance and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles illuminated the wreckage, I found myself trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
The consequences of my actions were painfully clear – a leg amputated, a face scarred, and a life irreparably altered by the weight of my shattered dreams and broken heart.
The guilt that hung heavy in the air in the aftermath of my accident drove a temporary wedge between Annie and Matt. Unable to face each other in the wake of the devastation they had unwittingly caused, they retreated into separate corners of their lives, nursing their own wounds in solitude.
Yet, as time wore on and the wounds began to heal, the magnetic pull of their 'forbidden love' proved too strong to resist. Despite their 'best efforts' to suppress their feelings, they found themselves drawn back to each other.
For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe that perhaps there was hope for reconciliation, that the bonds of friendship and loyalty that had once bound us together could withstand the test of betrayal. But as I watched from the sidelines, my heart heavy with bitterness and resentment, they embraced their love with open arms, unable – or unwilling – to deny their so called love.
The injustice of it all seethed within me, a raging fire fueled by resentment and sorrow. While Annie and Matt found their way back to each other, basking in the glow of their happiness, I was left to grapple with the wreckage of my shattered dreams and broken body. The unfairness of their "happily ever after" stung like salt in an open wound.
~
I couldn't fathom why I allowed myself to succumb to Annie's tearful plea, but there I was, begrudgingly attending their insipid dinner. With a bitter taste of regret lingering in my mouth, I reached for the familiar solace of a bottle of wine, taking a swig to numb the ache of disappointment.
Seeking refuge from my horrible life, I turned to my phone, opening the app that housed my escape during the long, lonely hours of my hospital stay. Webnovels had become my sanctuary, a temporary reprieve from the harsh realities of my shattered life.
Among the list of titles, one stood out like a sore thumb – "Rise of the Crippled Son-in-law." The title alone elicited a scoff of disdain out of me, but I found myself inexplicably drawn to its pages nonetheless. The plot, while clichéd and predictable, held a strange allure, providing a fleeting distraction from my own turmoil.
As I delved into the story, I found myself disinterested in the main character and his trite escapades. Instead, my attention was captured by the supporting cast, particularly the older brother of the male lead and his ill-fated love from the so-called less attractive sister of the female lead.
Her plight resonated with me in ways I couldn't bring to words. Like her, I had once been a fool for love. Her unrequited affection for the older brother mirrored my own heartache, serving as a painful reminder of the wounds that still festered within me.
Lost in the fictional world of the novel, I found a temporary respite from the harsh realities of my own life. With each turn of the virtual page, I drowned my sorrows in the intoxicating blend of wine and escapism.
*
My frustration boiled over as I hurled my phone onto the table, the screen illuminating with the final chapter of the webnovel I had been so engrossed in. Rage surged through me as I grappled with the nonsensical twists and turns that had unfolded before my eyes.
"What the fuck is this?!" I screamed, the words reverberating off the walls of my penthouse. The main character's ludicrous happily-ever-after, complete with a harem of fifteen wives, was enough to make me want to vomit. But it was the revelation of the true antagonist that truly incensed me.
The older brother, the very embodiment of betrayal and deceit, had summoned a demon to wreak havoc upon the world. And for what? A misplaced sense of love and loyalty to a girl he believed had saved his life – a girl who turned out to be none other than his own wife's sister, the female lead but no it was actually his wife that saved his life!
My mind reeled at the sheer absurdity of it all. Why hadn't the sister spoken up, revealed the truth to her misguided husband before it was too late? The answer eluded me, leaving me seething with anger and disbelief at her complicity in the unfolding tragedy.
As the final pages unfolded before me, revealing the sister's ultimate sacrifice and the older brother's descent into madness and regret, I found myself cursing the author with every fiber of my being. How dare they toy with the emotions of their readers, weaving a tale of love and betrayal so full with illogical twists and turns?
In a fit of fury, I vowed never to waste another moment on such drivel, tossing the offending device aside with a mixture of disdain and disgust.
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