Melodyshhh
We are all stories, still told even after we return to ashes 𓇢𓆸
About Me
I’m MELODY
But you can call me Mey Mey
Just a lazy villainess trapped in a small body. Still writing, still imagining, still lost in...
𝗕𝗘𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗘! I’m no doubt a storyteller who’ll kill you off in a story the moment you cross me.
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Romance
𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 2024, ONGOING | ON HOLD
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: ⚠︎18+ MATURE CONTENTA story about finding the courage to follow your heart, even when it feels like the odds are stacked against you.This story is for anyone who's ever tried to look happy while secretly falling apart.For anyone who's ever felt trapped by expectations, torn between who they are and who they're told to be.For anyone who's tried to chase a dream while carrying the weight of someone else's.
...✦𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞.
Read to find out if they did.
© 2025. All rights reserved.
That’s all… for now.Until then, try not to die offscreen.Luv yah𓂃 𓈒♡
Existing lazily, writing endlessly.
— MELODYSHHH
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒
Chapter 1: Perfect Daughter
If only fate had been kinder to us.
"I refuse to marry Wallace Aldridge," I said, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat. "Because I'm in love… with someone else. I’m officially calling off our engagement. Right here. Right now."
The sharp clatter of silverware hitting the floor sliced through the grand hall, followed by stunned silence.
My hands hung at my sides like dead weight as my gaze locked with his, deep blue eyes wide with confusion and hurt.
Why did fate let us find each other when it was only going to separate us in the end?
“Desiree…” His voice cracked. “Were you only playing me this whole time?”
I won’t let anyone hold you back from your dream, Wallace. Not even me. Especially not me.
Swallowing the sob rising in my chest, I lifted my chin and hardened my voice until it sounded like my mother’s.
“What? Did you really think someone like you could make me fall in love? You have nothing to offer, Wallace. You’re nothing more than a lost boy throwing punches in the streets, desperate to piss off your father instead of working hard to become the singer you dreamed of. And you think I could love that?”
You are the only meaning in my life.
He stepped forward, hands trembling slightly at his sides. “I don’t believe you. I know your feelings for me were real. Our feelings—”
I cut him off with a hollow laugh.
“Feelings?” I repeated. “Anyone can stir up my feelings, Wallace. But only someone with a future can offer me a life worth choosing. You can’t, can you? You grew up with everything but that’s not the same as building something of your own. So enough with the big words. Show me something real. Show me you're not just a reckless bad boy. Show me you're more.”
His jaw tightened, but the light in his eyes dimmed. I felt my heart crack in two, and my fingers ached to reach for him. Just once. Just to remind him that the coldness was a lie, and that he’d already shown me more light than I’d ever deserved.
I wish you keep shining your light on me…
“Guess I was a fool,” he muttered. “Should’ve known better than to give my heart to a heartless Desiree Hart.”
…my Ace.
He turned, shoulders stiff but movements slow, as if part of him still waited for me to stop him.
But I couldn't. Because if I didn’t end it now, I’d end up destroying the only beautiful meaning I’ve ever known. So I just stood there, fingers curling into fists so tight my nails bit into my skin.
I love you enough to set you free… even if it meant closing the door on myself forever.
ELEVEN MONTHS EARLIER
Late afternoon sunlight streamed through tall auditorium windows, washing the polished stage in gold and casting long shadows across the floor. A low murmur spread as students, teachers, and a few parents filled the rows of seats, programs rustling in their hands.
The final round of the interschool debate held at St. Lamron Academy was about to begin.
I sat at the debate table, fingers brushing the edge of my index cards, though I hardly needed them. Every counterargument lived rent-free in my head.
I’d done this a hundred times before. I’d stood behind countless podiums, dismantled arrogant opponents, and walked away with win after win. This wouldn’t be any different.
The spotlight didn’t faze me. The pressure didn’t crack me.
I wasn’t here for the judges, or the crowd, or even my opponent.
I was here for her. To make her proud.
From across the stage stood a tall boy named Carter, my opponent from a rival school. He grinned with arrogant confidence. He hadn’t beaten me yet, but he already looked like he’d already won.
Classic. But I had no intention of losing.
“Miss Hart, you may begin your rebuttal,” the moderator said, snapping me back to focus.
I stood, smoothed my skirt, and swept my gaze over the judges and crowd.
Parents were scattered throughout the audience, cheering on their children. But mine wasn’t among them. No familiar face.
Of course she wasn’t here. She never was.
But it was fine. I’d bring the medal home and show her I’d won.
Maybe this time… she’d be proud.
But before I could speak, Carter interrupted with a grin. “Before you start, I just want to say whether zoos exist or not, I think we can all agree meat is best served medium-rare, am I right?”
Laughter rippled through the crowd but died the moment the moderator’s cold voice cut through. “Mr. Holman, you are out of order. Speaking out of turn is a direct violation. Sit down.”
Carter raised his hands in mock surrender and dropped into his seat, still smirking. He’d been poking the bear all day. Trying to get a reaction.
And sure, part of me wanted to verbally obliterate him. But I didn’t rise to the bait.
This wasn’t about him. This was about me proving my worth even if she wasn’t here to see it.
“My opponent argues that zoos are essential for education, research, and conservation,” I began, keeping my tone steady. “But we need to ask…essential for who? Because from the animals’ perspective, zoos aren’t classrooms or research centers. They’re cages. Places where wild instincts are muted and natural behaviors are replaced by pacing, rocking, or biting at bars. Just cages for entertainment.”
Carter chuckled lightly behind me. “You make it sound so tragic, Hart, but people need zoos. Kids need to see real animals. How else are they supposed to learn about them? Google pictures?”
Snickers rippled again.
“Mr. Holman,” the moderator said flatly, “final warning. One more interruption, and you’ll be disqualified.”
I ignored my opponent’s arrogance and continued.
When Carter was called for his rebuttal, he adjusted his blazer and stepped forward.
“Let’s be real here. Zoos aren’t just places where people come to gawk at animals. They’re centers for research, education, and conservation.” He paused, sweeping his gaze over the crowd. “Without zoos, many endangered species wouldn’t even be alive right now.”
The auditorium fell silent. Only the soft scrape of shifting in a seat, a muffled cough, and the tap of a pen against paper broke the stillness.
“Have you seen the wild?” he asked. “With habitat loss and poaching on the rise, most animals wouldn’t last a week in the wild without zoos. Sure, they’re confined, but it’s for their own good. Zoos rescue species that would otherwise vanish. And kids love them. Seeing a lion up close sparks a wonder you simply can’t Google.”
After more back-and-forth, the moderator called for final summations. When my turn came, I stepped forward.
“You speak about education. But what exactly are we teaching this generation? A child watching a lion pace in a cell isn’t learning about the wild. It’s a warning. That we’ve normalized domination.”
There was a pressure in my chest. Still, I didn’t flinch.
“And conservation? According to conservation experts, only a small percentage of zoo animals are part of real reintroduction programs. Most zoo animals aren’t endangered. They’re just... marketable. Zoos exist because we’ve destroyed the wild. But we don’t need better cages. We need a world where animals don’t need saving to begin with.”
I paused, letting the point settle.
“Let me conclude, not with data or theory, but with the true story of a bear named Fifi.”
My fingers curled around the edge of the wooden podium, its grain biting into my skin. But I didn’t ease my grip.
Even her name felt heavy in my mouth.
“Taken as a cub. Forced to perform tricks for twenty years. Then locked in a tiny, rusted cage for another decade. No soft earth. No trees. No freedom. Just bars. She suffered from untreated arthritis. Decades of pacing on concrete.”
My heart knocked against my ribs, but I kept my tone measured.
“She wasn’t part of a conservation program. She wasn’t being studied for research. And no one learned anything meaningful from watching her pace back and forth in a cage. She was just used. For profit. And then forgotten.”
The silence deepened.
I just wish the world could be a little kinder. A little more human to every animal.
I drew a breath that felt too heavy and delivered my final lines with calm conviction.
“My opponent speaks of education, research, and conservation but how much of that justifies thirty years of suffering for a creature like Fifi? True education teaches compassion. Real conservation starts with respect. And if we want a future that values all life, we have to be brave enough to create one that honors every living being’s right to freedom.”
The silence pressed in like thick air. A bead of sweat slipped down my spine beneath the fabric of my short-sleeved shirt and stiff blazer.
I turned to face Carter directly. “Because animals don’t exist for our entertainment, no matter how much you enjoy your medium-rare steak.”
The buzzer went off. Debate over.
Applause filled the room as I returned to my seat. But I didn’t bask in it. I never did. The accolades, the clapping, the whispers of admiration, they were all just background noise. Another win. Another gold. But it wasn’t enough until I heard it from her.
I left right after the awards were handed out, eager to show her my win.
The car purred beneath me as the sky bled into pinks and oranges. I sat in the back with a book open on my lap, eyes skimming words I wasn’t actually reading. My fingers toyed with the edge of the medal. It felt... weirdly empty.
The debate went fine, but it didn’t matter without her noticing. What good was victory if there was no one to share it with?
Mother never came to these things. Always too busy with meetings, approving budgets, managing platinum-selling artists. Even now, she was probably on a call, calmly dismantling someone’s entire career over a weak pitch or whatever.
As we drove through the city, we passed a group of boys on the corner.
Fighting. Clothes torn, fists flying, faces already busted up.
Thugs, clearly. Pathetic.
Hidden behind the safety of the windows, I didn’t have to pretend. My lip curled in disgust as I watched them flailing about in the dirt. Useless. Wasting their lives. They probably don’t even bother going to school.
I thought about my own school. How hard I worked, how much I pushed myself to excel, to be the best at everything. And then there were kids like these, throwing their futures away for nothing. They’ll end up rotting in some slum or prison. They’ll never even get close to where I am.
Mr. Moso, my driver with salt-and-pepper hair, slowed the car as he glanced their way.
“Shall I stop, Miss Hart?” he asked, his voice even.
I stared at the scene outside.
On impulse, I lowered the car window just enough for the sounds to slip through.
Shouts rang out, followed by the sharp crack of a fist hitting flesh and the sting of curses thrown like knives. It was the kind of chaos you felt more than heard.
Maybe, once upon a time, I might’ve felt a twinge of concern. Maybe I would’ve asked him to stop.
I guessed Mr. Moso still saw me as the little girl who couldn’t walk past anyone who looked like they needed help.
Back then, I believed kindness was a strength.
But the version of me that once cared would only get in the way. She had no place in this world. Not if I wanted to succeed.
“No,” I said coldly. “They’re just savages. They’ll tire themselves out.”
The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his brow furrowed, but he didn’t press. “Very well, Miss Hart.”
He was a combat expert. He would’ve ended it in seconds.
But it wasn’t worth it. They weren’t worth it.
My only focus was her. Always her.
The car rolled on, leaving the fight behind. Flipping open my book, I settled back into the quiet. The medal sat cold against my palm.
From my skirt pocket, I pulled out a small wrapped candy. Something I always carried.
I stared at it for a second too long as a recent memory flickered without permission.
A small quirk tugged at my lips.
I’d given one of these to a certain boy once. Someone who looked like he needed it more than I did. But he didn’t even thank me.
It was the first time anyone had treated me like that. He didn’t try to charm me or flash an insincere smile, just glared at me like I was wasting his time. Raw, unfiltered irritation.
Come to think of it, he had the kind of aura that would’ve fit right in with the fight we’d just passed.
I looked out the rear window.
Too late. Street was gone.
I shrugged, unwrapped the candy and popped it into my mouth. Then I turned the page, brushing off the image of deep blue eyes staring back at me.
A minute later, we pulled into the estate.
The gates parted slowly, revealing the mansion wrapped in golden light. At the center of the circular drive, a fountain bubbled softly.
I stepped out, medal in hand, and climbed the wide stone steps.
Inside, the air was cool and still, touched with something faintly floral. I went straight to her office, barely sparing a glance at the staff who moved quietly around me.
Don’t look too eager. Stay calm. Smile.
Just show her the medal. Let her say something. Anything. Just once, let her acknowledge that I’ve done well.
Outside her door, the antique clock ticked as if it was counting down to something that would never happen.
I knocked twice and opened the door.
She sat at her desk, posture straight, hair immaculate, voice clipped as she spoke into the phone. Papers spread in front of her like a battlefield she’d already won.
She didn’t look up. I went in anyway, holding the medal out like an offering. Then I waited.
“Mother,” I called, stepping forward once she ended her call.“I won. First place.”
She glanced briefly at the gold medal, her eyes barely flickering with interest. “Good. Now go upstairs and change. We have an important meeting in an hour.”
As always… no praise.
A tightness gathered in my chest, but I held my expression. I’ve learned to smile even when the ground shifts beneath me.
She was already back to work, holding her phone up for another call, clearly forgetting I was even there.
It’s okay, Desiree.
I lingered a second longer. The medal still in my hand. It felt heavier now.
“Yes, Mother,” I murmured. Then I turned and walked out.
It wasn’t enough. But it just meant I had to work harder.
Next time, I’ll win something bigger.
Next time, I’ll make it impossible for her not to see me.
I headed up the stairs to get ready for dinner. Next time... it’ll be enough.
I know it will...