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Second chance runaway

In Second Chance Runway, we follow the tumultuous life of Elena Vargas, a young woman whose beauty is overshadowed by her lack of self-care and the oppressive figures around her. At 21, she is forced into a loveless marriage by her mother, to a man who is nothing but cruel. Despite landing a lucrative job at the prestigious Grand State Buildings, Elena’s life is far from grand as her husband seizes her earnings, and her family treats her with disdain. Her world shatters further when her husband’s affair with her sister comes to light. Just when it seems like her story has reached its tragic end, fate intervenes. A fatal accident sends Elena back in time, waking up as her 18-year-old self. With memories of her past life intact, she seizes this miraculous opportunity to rewrite her destiny. Determined to pursue her long-forgotten dream of becoming a supermodel, Elena embarks on a journey of self-discovery and empowerment. But it’s not just about the glitz and glamour; it’s about settling scores. As she rises through the ranks of the fashion world, Elena plots a sophisticated revenge against those who wronged her, all while navigating the complexities of love, family, and fame. Will Elena’s second chance lead her to the life she’s always dreamed of, or will the shadows of her past prove too difficult to escape? Second Chance Runway is a story of resilience, ambition, and the transformative power of self-belief.

Ava_000 · LGBT+
分數不夠
372 Chs

Your mom is trash

A familiar roar of a motorbike echoed down the street. I looked up to see Tyron, my best friend, pulling up in front of the house. His tall frame and broad shoulders were a comforting sight amidst all the chaos. 

He pulled off his helmet, revealing his ever-confident smirk. "Your mom is trash," he said bluntly, his voice loud enough to make the neighbors peek out from behind their curtains.

A chuckle escaped my lips despite the situation. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Come on," he said, patting the back of his bike. "Let's get out of here."

I grabbed my suitcase and walked over to him, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. Tyron always had a way of making things seem less dire. He took the suitcase from me, strapped it to the back of the bike, and handed me a helmet.

"Here," he said, securing it on my head. "Safety first."

"Thanks," I said, appreciating the gesture. He always had my back.