Karachi (Romance Stories Online) — Forced into the spotlight, Melanie is torn between shock, betrayal, and a love that won’t let her go.
When the limo doors clicked shut, Dave grabbed Melanie’s hand with a tremble she couldn’t read. The scent of aftershave and sweat, the roar of fans, the flash of cameras–it all pressed close.
“Kiss me,” he whispered urgently in her ear, voice hushed but strained.
“What?” Melanie’s heart jumped. Her breath felt shallow in the cramped leather back seat.
He pulled her closer. “When we get out of the car, you have to kiss me. Understood?”
“I… I don’t understand.” She swallowed.
“Come on. It’s go time.”
He pushed the door open. The red carpet was a wall of chaos—screaming fans, flashing bulbs, the smell of perfume and sweat.
A voice cried, “Excuse me! What is this? My wife?” Dave planted his hand on her back, guiding her forward. “My wife,” he announced to the crowd.
Melanie froze. “What?”
“Come on, darling. Let’s go.” He smiled, fierce and wild, but she felt her world tilt.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice cracked.
But photographers yelled, “Over here!” “Married star!” “Bride!”—and with that, Dave pulled her into a stage of lights.
Suddenly his agent appeared, furious. He shoved Dave’s shoulder. “Get ready! You’re on in five!” He ignored Dave’s protests.
Melanie’s pulse thundered. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I want no part of this,” she whispered.
But Dave stepped forward. “Melanie, please—just wait until I explain.”
She shook her head. He tugged at her. She tried to slip away but he pressed in. “Take me with you,” he begged.
The hallway behind the stage smelled of stale sweat and stale air. The reverberation of music trembled through the walls. They stood face to face, tension crackling.
“Are you crazy?” she asked, tears in her eyes.
“Am I crazy? You just called me your wife in front of everyone. I’m already married,” she spat.
He stared, wounded. His voice broke. “My husband cheated on me right before my eyes.” Her voice felt small, raw.
They heard shouting from the corridor. “Hey, back off!” a male voice barked. Two sets of footsteps pounded closer.
“Guess who?” another called.
Melanie’s ex-husband appeared in the doorway—sharp suit, cold eyes.
“Why is this woman staring at us?” he demanded.
“Her husband just left me,” Dave replied coolly.
Melanie’s heart shrank, betrayal swelling inside her.
Her ex’s lips curled. “And where is your man?” he sneered.
“How dare you,” she gasped. “What’s going on here?”
“Simple,” Dave said, suspending his gaze between them. “I’m about to announce she’s my wife, and we’re going on our honeymoon.”
Melanie’s knees wobbled. His ex scoffed. “You can’t just—”
Dave cut him off. “I will. You’re going to get out there. Start singing.” He turned to Melanie. “I refuse.” Her voice cracked.
“You will,” he said, voice steely. “Or you’ll regret it.”
And then agents hustled them apart, dragging her backstage. She caught her reflection in a dressing mirror: pale, stunned, betrayed.
She sat there shaking, the hum of instruments beyond the curtain pulsing through her bones. A chorus line of background dancers rehearsed somewhere behind that wall. Her skin felt electric.
Dave pushed in. “Melanie, please—”
A woman’s voice screamed: “What is he doing here?” It was his ex (or maybe his current). She grabbed dresses, strewn in racks.
Melanie’s voice trembled. “I’m packing— his things.” She tried to steady herself, to fight back.
He moved closer, soft eyes raw. “You don’t belong here. I don’t want you to be a prop.”
Her voice cracked. “I’m nobody.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not nobody.” The lights dimmed as the stage managers counted them in.
She steeled herself. “I won’t be a doll anymore.”
Later, after the show, the dressing room door clicked open. The air smelled of sweat and perfume and half-eaten sandwiches. Dave was alone, his guitar slung.
Melanie stepped in quietly, heart pounding. “I said I wasn’t singing anymore.”
He turned. “They threatened you?”
She forced a laugh that cracked. “Threatened me? They think I’m fragile. But I’m not.”
In that moment, silence held them both. She saw the darkness in his eyes—not the rock-star façade, but a man trapped, aching.
“Why did you pull me into that charade?” she asked, voice taut.
He stepped forward, voice low: “Because the world sees me as a rock star, but right now I don’t want lights or applause. I just need you.”
She steadied her breath. The world outside was roaring, but inside this small room, only the two of them existed.
He lifted his guitar. Soft notes echoed. A melody she had never heard before.
He sang:
“I’ll stay by your side…
Storms are raging,
I will hold you close tonight
Until the morning light…”
Tears stung her eyes. She held out her hand. He walked over, placed his calloused fingertips against her palm.
She whispered, “Is that for me?”
He nodded. “It came alive when I looked into your eyes. You’re the only song I ever meant to write.”
She pressed closer. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because I don’t want to be the rock star anyone sees. I want to be the man you know. You’re home to me.”
Her breath shivered. She closed the distance. Their lips met, soft, desperate, healing.
Then backstage lights flicked, someone shouting. The spell broke.
She pulled back, heart pounding. “I have to go. They’ll kill you.”
He gripped her arm. “Not without defining my life. I’ll protect you—even against the world.”
Her voice trembled: “I’m scared.”
“Me too,” he said. “But I’ve never felt more alive.”
She looked into his eyes. In that moment, they escaped together—no stage, no crowd—just two wounded souls trying to build something real.
FAQs
Q1: Is this story based on a real event?
A1: No — it’s entirely fictional. But it draws on emotions many people experience: love, betrayal, sacrifice.
Q2: Why did Melanie initially resist Dave?
A2: She was frightened and humiliated by being forced into a public stunt. She felt like a pawn more than a person.
Q3: What’s the main theme?
A3: The theme is transformation — love doesn’t fix everything, but it forces us to confront who we truly are.
Q4: Is there a happy ending?
A4: Their future is uncertain, but the story ends with hope: that two broken souls might heal together.
Q5: Can I adapt this into a longer novel or script?
A5: Absolutely! Expand the characters, backstories, conflicts, stakes — this can become a full-fledged romance or screenplay.
What secret would you risk everything to protect? Share your thoughts below — I’d love to discuss the power of love, betrayal, and redemption with you.
