Cloudnovel40 Facebook ad: “What happens next Click Here to read on”

About this ad

Meta Ad Library ID

1350759723872812

Platforms

Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network, Messenger and Threads

Relaunches

0

How we count

Ad text

KILL THAT DREAM "You want me to say it? Fine! You are too fat, you can never be a successful actress,Charlotte. What makes you think you will get a role in the audition? How many female actors of your size do you see in a Chinese drama getting major roles? And worse you are biracial. Be realistic". Those were the words of my boyfriend,Jun, after I told him about my upcoming audition for a movie. I tried to keep my emotions in check. "Why do you say it like being biracial is a bad thing? Besides there are many plus size female actors in Hollywood" I replied. "Oh you want to go to America? You will sure make a good comedy show,look I don't mean to make you feel bad, especially when you are suicidal. But why not stick to the waitress job that I suggested and quit this idea of being an actress". I looked down sadly. "I came because I wanted to seek your encouragement. I didn't know you would get this upset." "Upset?" Jun said with a humorless laugh. "You think I'm just upset? That's my problem with you". I looked up at him with glistening eyes. "Acting has been my dream,since I was child. Why can't you support me in this?" "Because It's silly!" he snapped back, his voice rising. "I'm your boyfriend, Charlotte. You're supposed to respect me. If you cared about me, you wouldn't even be arguing about this. You will stick to the waitress job, like I told you to do.". "Jun, you know I love and do care about you. I've been loyal to you. Always. Why can't you for once, support me? I am trying, I really am." "Maybe, if you weren't this average and unnecessarily fat, it could be hopeful". I was speechless at that statement. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just look at yourself in the mirror, Charlotte.No one want to see all of you on their screen. You complain that you got bullied as a waitress. Well news flash, you will get more hate as an actress on the screen. Do you want to be bullied online too?" My throat tightened. "I was 'unnecessarily fat' when you approached me. Why didn't you say you didn't like plus size and go for slim women?" I asked with a frown. "I loved you with your flaws too, you know that. Don't act like you're perfect." Jun scoffed, offended. He rolled his tongue and looked me up and down. I looked at myself too,I was wearing something close to a maternity gown. According to Jun that's what suits me the most. Suits my body type,the most. Since he was my boyfriend I had accepted his dressing choice for myself. "You're lucky I've put up with you for this long. I've been managing you. Be honest, how many men were there before me? None! It's hard to find a man when you look like a middle aged, divorced single mother with kids. You are twenty-nine and unmarried what did that tell you? You think you have options?" Those words landed like a slap. "Do you know how cruel those words are, Jun?" I sobbed as tears rolled down my eyes. "Don't get all sensitive, Charlotte. I'm just being honest. So if you want this relationship to work, you know what you need to do. I can't put up with the shame all the time. Family, friends, have been on my neck. You have no idea how much shame I have been fighting by having you by my side as my girlfriend?" I looked down slowly. "You are.... ashamed of me?" "Ashamed is an understatement." He scoffed. I looked up at him, my tears rolling freely down my cheeks. "I never forced you to love me, Jun. Why did you even date me if you are embarrassed to be seen with me or anything like that. You made me think you are the one...someone who finally understood me and all of a sudden you are acting like a man with no atom of compassion and love for me". "Now, I am the bad guy for dating a hopeless fat twenty-nine years old woman in China, do you think someone out there will look at you twice?" I was about to reply, when a familiar sultry voice called from inside the apartment. "Jun baby!" That voice... "Is that....?" I paused and looked at him in both doubt and surprise. Jun closed his eyes in regret and murmured, "Fuck." Suddenly, the door opened and a blonde lady appeared, wearing nothing but Jun's oversized shirt, her unclad body on full display. Her heavy massive titts bouncing as she walked towards us. Jun rubbed his neck. "Chloe?" I whispered in disbelief. I stood there like a statue, staring at Chloe, my younger sister....half sister. My lips parted, but no sound came. "Opps,hey Charlotte". She said and turned back. I shifted my gaze to Jun. "You... You're... cheating on me, with my sister?" I said, her voice trembling. He ran his fingers through his hair, then turned to me with a frown and suddenly snapped. "Half sister". "She is still my sister! You!...." I couldn't finish my sentence and looked away, sobbing silently. "And whose fault is that? You've been ignoring me lately. What did you expect? For me to just wait around while you chase after your stupid dreams? Besides I am a man, I need to have sex. You kept blabbering about keeping it until the wedding night. This is 2025. Who still makes such decisions? You are twenty nine and a virgin...at this point it's a shame. I can't keep waiting for you, Charlotte." I stared at him, impulsively holding my hand to my chest. I felt a sudden sharp tightness in my chest. "You made me feel small. Made me question my worth just to cover up the fact that you're a liar and a cheat. Just a few minutes ago, I was willing to give up my dream for you, and this is what I get?" Uncontrollable hot tears rolled down my face,my heart was hurting sharply, stabbing so much, so much that I started panicking. "What is happening to me?" I cried loudly as I gripped my chest. YOU CAN'T HURT ME I gasped loudly and opened my wet, stinky eyelids. Same dream again. Ever since I caught my ex-boyfriend in bed with my sister, I've been having recurring dreams like this that won't stop until I wake up with tears streaming down my face. Being hurt by the people you love the most-that's another level of pain. I should've known better. It's just... I thought he would be different. I thought I had found the one because he was on the bigger side, and he convinced me that he had the same insecurities about his body. He said he could relate to my emotions and struggles. I thought we were bonding through shared vulnerability. Turns out, I was just bait-always the bait-for the main prize. And he dared to do it on my birthday. Now, all I feel is foolish. I wiped under my eyes, got up from the bed, and then walked straight to my weight scale. Seeing the numbers broke my heart. "What, I gained more?!" I snapped sadly as tears welled up in my eyes in frustration. I looked at the table in the corner of my room, full of weight loss pills, appetite suppressants... and antidepressants. My table looks like a damn local pharmacy. "The drugs are not as effective as I was told. I was careful with my diet, preparing for the audition. How on earth did I gain more? Could it be stress?" I muttered, disappointed. Suddenly, I felt a pain in my chest. I took a deep breath,s trying to calm my heart. I need to step up and prove Jun wrong. Not just Jun. My own mother told me she regretted the day she conceived me. She wished I never appeared in her womb. She screamed those words at a five-year-old. I'm sure I must have cried, terrified and confused. Yet, at the end of each outburst, she never had the heart to finish me off. I guess she wasn't a horrible mother... just a broken woman. That day, she had come home drunk from a failed date. He had rejected her for being a single mother. That wasn't the first time,hence her frustration. My unknown father, whom my mother loved dearly and dated against her family's wishes, left the country when she was seven months pregnant. He never returned. He never called. So, of course, I had to pay for his sins. My mother was disowned by her family for "bringing disgrace" and "staining" the family name. And in return, she hated me for looking nothing like her but more like my father. I was told how ugly and fat I was since childhood. My own mother made sure I never forgot it. She reminded me every day-not just of my appearance, but of how deeply she hated me. I can't say I loved her as a child, because truthfully... I didn't even know what love was. Not even the kind they call "motherly love." Months after being rejected by her date, my mother regained her family's blessing and affection when she got engaged to a popular Hollywood filmmaker, a blue-eyed, blonde British charmer. When I was six, my mother gave birth to my twin half-sisters. People said they were the most beautiful babies they had ever seen. That was the moment I learned the difference between beauty and ugliness. Six-year-old me stood in front of the mirror and accepted that I was the image of "ugly"... and my sisters, "beauty." I wasn't even sad. At that age, I didn't see it as cruel. I saw it as my reality. My fate. After their birth, my sisters became local celebrities. They were signed to endorsement deals for baby modeling in China. Family and friends adored them. Our grandparents worshipped them. And that's when I realized what love actually was. I couldn't feel it. But I could see it. And honestly? That was enough for me. It was beautiful to see someone being loved. To see my mother glowing, not drunk, not cursing, not breaking things. I was happy. My favorite day was our family photoshoot for the twins' one-year birthday, with both sets of grandparents. My mother and my new stepfather were seated in the middle. Grandparents stood beside their children. I was told to sit on the floor beside my mother. When the framed photos arrived and were hung in our living room, I was missing in every single one of them. Maybe I was too fat to fit in. But I know I could've slayed that photoshoot, especially with my wide smile and a missing tooth while gazing up at my little sisters. As I grew older, the hate turned into bullying, especially from kids in the neighborhood and classmates at school. "Fat ugly girl!" I understood it perfectly, because my own mother called me that often. But I always replied with confidence: Yeah, I'm fat and ugly, but I've got beautiful sisters! You got beautiful sisters? Noooo! Yeah, I was that proud of them. I literally raised them when my mother was too busy with her work. I would bottle-feed them, and at a tender age, I learned to change diapers, sing lullabies, and put them to sleep. I loved them dearly, but unfortunately, they grew up and joined my bullies. They told their friends I wasn't even related to them. Easy to believe-we looked nothing alike. However, I can't blame them for seeing me as more of a maid than a sister. They learned from our mother. KIDNAPPED PRESENTLY A sweet aroma hit me first. My nose twitched, and my stomach growled before my eyes even opened. Then—bam—reality crept in. Where the hell am I? I was lying with my hands and legs spread apart in the middle of a msssive king-sized bed. What the hell... I sat up too fast and instantly regretted it because the room spun. My hand flew to my head as I blinked around. The room was huge and bright. Ridiculously clean. Everything screamed luxury. Glass walls stretched from floor to ceiling. A city skyline blinked back at me, smugly. Black-and-gold furniture. Expensive arts. What… is this place? Still, I couldn’t help but whisper, “Please tell me I wasn’t kidnapped by a serial killer with a cleaning fetish.” Then my heart skipped. I looked down and sighed in relief. “I’m not naked. That’s a win,” I muttered, then frowned in confusion. “But… how did I get here?” I scratched my hair, looked around as my brain struggled to piece things together. I’d been on a flight to the U.S. Vacation time to get away from the heartbreak. On the plane, there’d been a guy. A guy. A stupidly handsome guy, who sat by the aisle and barely looked at me the whole flight. And then—I thought we would crash, made some stupid decision about losing my virginity on the plane. When the plane landed. Shamefully, I got pass the checks heading towards the exit, I couldn't even look anyone in the face anymore. He wanted to talk, so I simply asked him to purchase a drink so I could get rid of my nervousness and embarrassment. I guess I got drunk and then got kidnapped. Good job, Char. First time in the United States, and you’re already on a stranger's bed. The sweet aroma came back, and I sniffed the air again. My stomach made the saddest sound ever. It was practically crying. I hadn’t had a proper meal in days. Just fruits, pills, and depression. Whoever was in that kitchen? They were sent by God. Possibly a woman. Because only a woman could cook like that. But then—wait. The room didn’t feel feminine. The dark colors. The lack of... coasters. Definitely male. Suddenly, a voice echoed from the kitchen. "Good morning.” A man’s voice?! My pulse skipped in panic. Nope. No. I was not going to be the girl who wakes up in a stranger’s bed with zero memory and gets murdered. I have watched a lot of true crime stories, so I can't be a victim. I swung my legs off the bed carefully, toes touching the floor. My handbag?! I looked around and found it by the far edge of the bed, but the bed was massive. I had to walk to the other side to get the bag. I didn't want anyone in that kitchen to figure out I was trying to escape, so I dropped to the floor and started crawling... The floor was cold, and my knees hurt, but I was desperate. Almost there. And then—I heard footsteps. Oh God! No. No-no-no— I picked up speed, crawling like my life depended on it. “Are you.. okay?” I froze, mid-crawl. Like a rat caught by a cat. Wait, I know that voice…I recognize it now, that's the guy from the plane! My hot seatmate! Then I turned my head very slowly because I didn’t have the courage to be fast. My eyes widened. Standing in the doorway, he stood shirtless with a tray of food in his hands, his nose mask off. His hair was tied into a loose ponytail, a few strands falling messily over his forehead. That’s his face? How on earth can a man be that beautiful?! A face card like that for a man? I’m here with this damn double chin. He had a worried expression on his face but the ans distracted me. My eyes crawled lower. Grey sweatpants that were low on his waist, giving a glimpse of a V-line that could be used as a murder weapon. A tattoo ran along his side, disappearing below the waistband. Then that huge long bulge! I had a flash back of what it looked like back then when I had it raw in my mouth. I swallowed wrong and started choking. Violently. Like full-body, embarrassing, face-turning-red choking. “Oh my God—” I wheezed. He blinked, startled, then rushed over to the glass table nearby, set the tray down, and grabbed a bottle of water. Then he knelt in front of me and handed it over. “Here,” he said. I noticed his extremely long lashes and a beauty mark on his chin. It gets worse! I snatched the bottle and gulped it down, tears in my eyes from the coughing. HOW DID HE KNOW? "Thank... thank you..." I murmured after finally getting myself together. He simply nodded, then asked gently, "Is everything alright? You were crawling..." I leapt to my feet so fast I almost pulled a hamstring. "Oh! Totally! Yep. Just... morning stretches. Burning a few calories. Gotta keep the blood flowing, right?" I flung my arms up like I was in a mid-aerobics class. "Just a little crawling cardio." He stared, then blinked, confused. "...Okay," he said quietly and nodded. "I had to bring you along. You got drunk, I apologize for not being able to stop you from drinking too much." He added, then turned and gestured toward the other corner of the room. "Your luggage is there." My eyes followed his finger. But they didn't make it to the luggage... they shifted to his back. A badass, realistic colored tiger tattoo-the artist must be blessed with magic fingers. I stared... never knew I could find a tattoo that attractive. When he turned back to me, I quickly looked away, pretending like I'd been admiring the wall. "There's the bathroom," he said, voice soft again. "You can freshen up." "Thanks," I blurted, avoiding his gaze. "Appreciate it." I sprinted into the bathroom and shut the door behind me like I was locking out the apocalypse. Then exhaled. Loudly. "What the hell is wrong with me?" I muttered, slapping my cheeks gently. "Girl, get it together." I looked at myself in the mirror. "Alright, Char, you woke up in a hot stranger's bed. It's not the end of the world. But there's something unsettling about him. He is being way too gentle and nice for a guy with a back full of tattoo and piercings." I turned toward the sink and found a neatly arranged toiletry kit sitting and a pink towel. Oh? They are brand new. A sticky note was attached on the kit with the neatest handwriting: "Use me." I paused, blinked, and smiled. "Oh. He's cute-cute." I unzipped it, loving how carefully it was packed. Toothbrush, mini mouthwash, feminine wipes, lotion, even a hair tie. I checked in the mirror my curls looked like I was strucked by lightening. I detangled my hair with my fingers and tied it up. I was mid-undress, peeling off my skirt, when I felt it. A drop and... sudden weird dampness. No. No no no no! I yanked down my underwear and-bam. Thick red fluid. "NOOOO!" I slapped my hand over my face, spinning around dramatically. "You have got to be kidding me," I whispered, eyes wild. "Period?! NOW?! I'm not even a teenager! I'm a grown woman! How do you forget you're due?!" I stared at myself in the mirror, arms thrown up in frustration. "What am I going to do? How do I escape this?!" Two minutes gone. I was still in the bathroom. I can't possibly go out stained, and embarrass myself in front of that stranger! I was in a mid-panic spiral when a gentle knock came at the door. "Hello, Ms...? Are you okay in there? Sorry to intrude. Just... getting very worried." I froze. My eyes widened. My heart? Decided now was the time to try gymnastics. Think! Think, Charlotte! "I-I'm having diarrhea!" I blurted out. Why on earth did I say that?! Out of all the options in the entire English language, that was the hill I chose to die on?! I am so stupid. I pressed my face into my palms and nearly passed out from secondhand embarrassment. Then... softly, barely above a whisper, I heard: "...Is it the period?" I blinked. What? My head snapped toward the door, speechless. "I got a sanitary pad for you," he added gently. "If that's why you're... you know. Not coming out." Oh. My. God. I just stood there, mouth open. How the hell did he find out? Did I stain his expensive bed or something? Please don't tell me he's a creep. No, Char, think positively. He's trying to help you out here. "Thanks," I croaked, "So much. Thank you." "I'll just leave it on the bed," he said quietly. "And go get something for your stomach... just in case." And then I heard him walking gently around the room. Probably getting dressed. After a few seconds, I heard a door shut. I stood frozen for ten whole seconds before getting out of the shock. "NO WAY a straight man is this nice! " DIG IN I stepped out of the bathroom cautiously, like I was entering a sacred temple. And there, on the edge of the bed-I found not just one pad. A freaking collection. A full box of pads. A variety pack of tampons. A small heat patch. A fresh bottle of water. And neatly placed bars of dark chocolate. I just stood there, stunned. Who is this man? Was he raised by angels? Trained to be the ideal adult male? I took a tampon, resisted the urge to take the chocolate bar.But it was impossible, so I grabbed one and sprinted back into the bathroom. After taking my bath, I changed into clean clothes from my luggage. But now I had a new battle: should I leave? What if he is not as good as he presents himself. What if I am in danger? I have never been to the United states before. I made up my mind and gathered my stuff quickly then walked to the door. "Please be unlocked," I murmured, and pulled the knob. The door opened. I was relieved. But another mind told me to think positively. I paused... and shut the door. Leaving just like that is rude. The least I could do was say thank you before ghosting him. I walked straight back and dropped my luggage. I curled up into the comfiest, fluffiest nearby chair, took out my phone, and opened Twitter just to distract myself. Audition open for actors and actresses - filming in Hawaii. My eyes lit up. Hawaii? I checked the date. "In 2 days time?!" I checked my location. "Wait. Hold up..." My brow furrowed. "I'm in Hawaii?" I zoomed in on the tiny location pin from Twitter. It read: O'ahu, Hawaii. "Is this sign or ?" Before I could finish, the door opened quietly. I looked up and found him dressed in all black outfit. Black joggers, black hoodie and black face cap pulled low. He stepped in silently and pulled off the cap, then ran a hand through his thick, glossy black hair. God! Why is that so attractive? His hand - big and veiny. His hair - unfairly healthy. He walked over to me, and my heart started racing. "I got what the pharmacist recommended. For diarrhea and cramps." He held out a small bag of pills. Our fingers brushed for half a second when I took it. Half a second - and yet my brain played the sound of a harp. "Thanks. Really. You didn't have to." "You were in pain. It was necessary." He replied. I nodded, but my mind raced. I desperately wanted to ask one question, one thing that was swirling in my head: Is he gay? I mean, he'd been too nice. Way too nice. No man just casually buys you pads and tampons and treats you with such care unless there's something deeper. Right? But... I didn't ask. I just couldn't. The last thing I wanted was to come across as some insecure, paranoid mess. So I swallowed down my curiosity. When he came back from microwaving the food he prepared (which looked incredible, by the way), he gestured toward the table. "It's ready, please help yourself," he said simply. I hesitated, eyeing the breakfast spread, feeling an internal struggle. Should I really eat? I was on a strict diet, but rejecting food from someone who had been this kind would be so rude. And honestly, my stomach was already in the process of revolting from hunger. It was just one time. One meal. I could always hit the gym and diet later, right? I walked to the table, and the spread took my breath away. Wow! There was everything - fluffy scrambled eggs, golden-brown pancakes, sizzling bacon, perfectly fried sausages, and fresh fruit glistening like jewels. A steaming pot of freshly brewed coffee sat beside it all, with a small jug of cream and sugar. I glanced at him, unable to hide my astonishment. "You made all this yourself?" He nodded, his lips slightly curling. "Yeah." Is he a chef or what? I thought to myself, still in awe. He motioned for me to sit. I sat down slowly, still staring at the food, unsure where to start. I reached for a pancake, cutting into it. It was soft, perfectly golden and sweet, just the right amount of fluffiness. When was the last time I had something like this. I pray Lord, discipline my stomach to eat with caution. I was trying not to eat too much, trying to control myself, but honestly, it was impossible. This was heaven on a plate. But as I took my first bite... and another bite...and anither, I kept digging. "Wow! This is good... so good. This is professional chef-level food," I said, shaking my head between mouthfuls. I was about to take another bite when I noticed his gaze fixed on me. My fork froze halfway to my mouth. My stomach flipped. I noticed he hadn't even touched his own food. I was halfway finished with my plates. My eyes darted down to the plate. I tried to focus on the food. I could feel my face getting warm out of embarrassment. Is he disgusted? Do I have something on my face? Oh Lord, please... why is he staring at me like that? I KNEW IT "Do you like the food?" I looked up slowly and met his eyes. I swallowed tightly. "It's... too good. Are you, like, a professional chef or something?" A one-side cheek dimple flashed as his lios twitched. "I just... enjoy cooking," he replied and cupped his jaw, still staring at me. Okay, what's up with Mr. Handsome Face? Why is he making this hard? I can't swallow with his eyes on me like that. I slowed down with my chewing, being careful not to mess up. "You do like to eat..." I coughed out at that statement. Because I am fat?! That's definitely why he was asking that. I don't know much about men, but it seems like his stare was just out of amusement... mockery... I drank water and stopped eating. "Thanks for the food." He raised his head from his palm and straightened. "You are not eating anymore?" He said it so softly, like he was confused. I tried not to snap at him, sounding like that after mocking me. I avoided his gaze and nodded. "I have eaten too much already. I don't want to finish the whole pot." I laughed awkwardly. "Are you angry about something?" he asked. "Of course I am not! Why should I be angry? A good stranger who happened to be a man took care of my drunk self and cooked for me. If anything, I am glad, so thank you." "Then why ain't you looking up? You can't even meet my eyes anymore. I said something bad which I didn't realize, right? I apologize ." My eyes widened. What! WHAT! Who apologizes like that? Definitely not someone with that face. Now I feel bad. Have I ever been apologized to like this? No memory. I looked up and met his eyes. They were intense at first, then softened after a few seconds of our eye contact. God, if he looks at me like that, I wonder how he stares at beautiful women. I forced myself to speak. "I was just being immature. I should be the one apologizing. You're right, I was mad, but not at you." He said nothing and kept staring. I sighed loudly. "To prove it, I will finish the meal." I took a spoon and started eating again. His voice came. "You want more?" I tried not to frown. "Of course not. What do you take me for? Besides, why ain't you eating?" I snapped back. "Because I poisoned it," he said and gazed down at the food. My heart stopped. I could feel my head getting dizzy, and the spoon dropped from my trembling fingers. My face went pale, and the food suddenly tasted like acid in my throat. I knew there was something weird about this guy. How can a handsome man like that be nice to me? Took care of me while I was drunk-not taking advantage of me is probably understandable-he must have high standards. I mean I don't expect a guy like that to be find me attractive enough to mess with. SoI knew there was something to it. Black outfits, piercing, tattoos, doesn't talk much, weirdly nice. My lips parted dryly. "So... you... you are a cannibal? You were being nice to me just to lure me into being your meal. I am fat so you think you can get a lot of meat out of me. That's the only reason you would poison me. We are complete strangers. Why do I always fall into the hands of scums... why am I so unlucky..." "It was a joke!" he said, waving his hands. I blinked. "Huh?" "Sorry, I'm bad at making jokes. I wanted to lighten up the room. Look..." He took a spoon from my plate and ate. "It's not poisoned. I promise," he said and took another one. I blinked again. It was a lie?! "Are you crazy! Who jokes about death! I'm an over-thinker, do you know that? The thought would have killed me before the actual poison!"

Where the ad sends people

website.literiess.com

😍What happens next👉Click Here to read on👉

"You want me to say it? Fine! You are too fat, you can never be a successful actress,Charlotte. What makes you think you will get a role in the audition? How many female actors of your size do you see in a Chinese drama getting major roles? And worse you are biracial. Be realistic".