Hang tight while we fetch the video data and transcripts. This only takes a moment.
Connecting to YouTube player…
Fetching transcript data…
We’ll display the transcript, summary, and all view options as soon as everything loads.
Next steps
Loading transcript tools…
My Fiancée Said: "I'm Going To My Sister's Bachelorette In Vegas For 5 Days." Her Si...- Best Reddit | Family Drama Tales By Ru | YouTubeToText
YouTube Transcript: My Fiancée Said: "I'm Going To My Sister's Bachelorette In Vegas For 5 Days." Her Si...- Best Reddit
Skip watching entire videos - get the full transcript, search for keywords, and copy with one click.
Share:
Video Transcript
Video Summary
Summary
Core Theme
A man's logical approach to problem-solving is tested when he discovers his fiancée's elaborate deception, leading to the dramatic unraveling of their wedding and her family's trust.
Mind Map
Click to expand
Click to explore the full interactive mind map • Zoom, pan, and navigate
My fianceé said, "I'm going to my
sister's bachelorette in Vegas for 5
days." Her sister wasn't even engaged. I
said, "Have fun." Then I tracked her
phone to her ex's beach house. When I
showed up with her parents who paid for
our wedding, I'm 33M, an architect. My
job is to design systems, buildings,
workflows, support structures. I find
problems, I analyze them, and I fix
them. My life is built on logic. I
thought my relationship was too. I was
wrong. My fianceé, Anna, 30F, and I were
supposed to get married in 3 months. A
huge wedding, 150 guests, fancy hotel
ballroom, the whole nine yards. Now,
let's be clear. I'm an architect. I make
good money. But Anna, her family has
money. Her father, Mr. R. Evans, is a
partner at a major logistics firm. He's
old school. He likes me. I think he
respects that I built my own firm, but
he's traditional. He and Mrs. Evans
insisted on paying for the wedding. All
of it. It's our gift, Alex. It's what we
do for our daughter. I was
uncomfortable, but I agreed. The budget
was, well, let's just say it was north
of $100,000.
This is all just context. The problem
started last Tuesday. Anna came home
from work. She does PR and was unusually
bubbly. Babe, guess what? She said,
dropping her keys. Jenna's finally
engaged. We're going to Vegas. Jenna is
her younger sister, 28F. I was busy with
some blueprints, so I just nodded. Oh,
nice to who? This guy Greg. He's a
banker. It was super fast. Anyway, her
bachelorette is next week. She wants to
do five days, Wednesday to Sunday. Just
the girls. I have to go. I stopped what
I was doing. Something felt wrong. Jenna
engaged. I just saw Jenna last weekend
at her parents' barbecue. She spent 20
minutes complaining to me about how
awful her last hinge date was and how
she was giving up on men for a while.
and a 5-day bachelorette for a super
fast engagement. Wow, I said. That's
really sudden. A 5-day bachelorette in
Vegas sounds expensive. It is, she said,
not missing a beat. But daddy's paying
for my flight and hotel. It's fine. She
was already on her phone looking at
outfits. I didn't say anything else. I
didn't accuse. I'm an architect. I don't
guess. I confirm. I waited until she was
in the shower. I texted Jenna. Hey,
Jenna. Anna told me the big news.
Congrats on the engagement. A little
nuts. She's already roped you into a
Vegas bachelorette. Haha. My phone
buzzed 5 minutes later. Jenna, what
engagement? I'm not engaged. Greg the
banker was a disaster. I ghosted him two
weeks ago. And what Vegas trip? I'm in
Cleveland for a regional sales meeting
from Tuesday to Friday. Anna knows this.
My blood went cold. It was a lie. A
specific elaborate pre-planned lie. Anna
came out of the bathroom wrapped in a
towel. "Who are you texting?" "Just a
client," I said. "Hey, have fun in
Vegas." "Seriously, sounds like you all
deserve it." "I will," she said, kissing
me. "You're the best. You'll be fine for
a few days, right? I'll manage," I said.
She left on Wednesday morning. I drove
her to the airport. She was all smiles,
wheeling her Vegas suitcase. "I'll call
you when I land," she chirped. I kissed
her goodbye. "Have fun. Be safe." I got
home. I open my laptop. We have Find My
Phone enabled on our devices. We set it
up years ago after she lost her phone at
a concert. We never ever used it to
check up on each other. It was just a
utility until now. A lie this big, it's
not a white lie. It's a structural
failure. I opened the app. Her phone was
not at the airport. It was moving on the
freeway heading south. The little Anna
icon was driving down I95. I watched it
all day. It didn't stop in Vegas. It
didn't stop at any airport. It kept
going south, south. At 8:00 p.m., it
stopped. It stopped at a single point.
An address in Wilmington, North
Carolina. I zoomed in. It was a beach
house. My heart stopped. I knew that
house. I knew that address. It was
Liam's house. Liam, her psycho ex from
college. The one she swore she was over.
The one she promised me she hadn't
spoken to in 5 years. The one her
parents hated. She had been lying to me
for months, maybe years. I sat there for
an hour in the dark. I didn't break
anything. I didn't yell. I just
analyzed. The lie wasn't just to me. She
was lying to her parents. She was
letting them spend a six figure sum on a
wedding, a public declaration of our
life while she was shacked up with her
ex-boyfriend in a beach house. This
wasn't just a betrayal. This was fraud.
I picked up my phone. I didn't call her.
I didn't call Liam. I called the one
person who had just as much, if not
more, skin in the game as I did. Mr.
Evans, it's Alex. I'm sorry to call this
late, but we have a serious problem with
our investment. Update one. There's a
specific kind of silence that lives on
the other end of a phone call when
you've just told a man his daughter is a
liar. It's a heavy, cold silence. Alex,
Mr. Evans said, his voice flat. Explain
what you mean by investment. I mean the
wedding, I said. And I mean Anna. Sir,
she's not in Vegas and her sister is not
engaged. Another long pause. My wife and
I are at dinner. Meet me at my home
office in 1 hour. He hung up. I drove to
their house. It's a massive old money
estate. I was in my workclo. Probably
had drywall dust on my pants. I didn't
care. Mrs. Evans met me at the door. Her
eyes were wide with worry. Alex, what is
this? Is she hurt? She's not hurt, Mrs.
Evans, I said. She's just not where she
said she'd be. I was led to his office.
Mr. Evans was sitting behind his huge
mahogany desk, hand steepled. "Lay it
out," he said. So I did. Like I was
presenting a structural analysis to a
client. The Vegas story, the Jenna
Bachelorette. I handed him my phone.
Here are the texts from Jenna from 2
hours ago. She's in Cleveland and she's
not engaged. I opened my laptop and this
this is find my phone. That's Anna's
location right now. He stared at the
map. He zoomed in on the address.
Wilmington, he said. His voice was
quiet. I know this address. You do? I
asked. Mrs. Evans, who had been silent,
suddenly gasped. "Robert?" "No, it's
it's not him, is it?" "After all these
years?" Mr. Evans just looked at me.
"Liam, the surfer, the one with no job."
"That's the one," I said. Mr. Evans
stood up. He's a tall man. He looked at
his wife, then at me. This is not a
betrayal, Alex. This is a humiliation.
She is humiliating my family. She is
taking my money and she is. He couldn't
even say it. Mrs. Evans started to cry.
But the deposits, the hotel, my friends,
they've all booked flights. Janet, be
quiet, he said not unkindly. This is a
business problem now. He looked at me.
You didn't call her. No, sir. You didn't
text her. No, you came to me. Good. He
put on his jacket. What? What are you
doing? Mrs. Evans asked. I'm getting in
my car. He said, Alex, you're driving
with me. Janet, you're coming, too. You
need to see this. You need to understand
what we're dealing with tonight? I
asked. Tonight?
20 minutes later, I was in the passenger
seat of Mr. Evans's Mercedes S-Class,
driving south on I95. Mrs. Evans was in
the back, silent. It's a 5-hour drive
from our city to Wilmington. We didn't
play music. We just drove. We stopped
once for gas and coffee. Mr. Evans
bought me a black coffee. We'll get
there around 4:00 a.m., he said. We'll
get a hotel. We'll check the location.
And in the morning, we will handle this.
We pulled into a Marriott at 4:30 a.m.
Get some sleep, Alex, Mr. Evans said,
handing me a room tea. We go at 10:00. I
slept for 3 hours. It was the sleep of
the dead. At 9:30 a.m., I met them in
the lobby. Mr. Evans was in a pressed
polo shirt. Mrs. Evans was wearing
sunglasses. Even inside, she looked like
she hadn't slept at all. "I checked the
location," I said, holding up my phone.
She's still there. Good, Mr. Evans said.
Let's go. We drove to the beach house.
It was a beautiful, sunny North Carolina
morning. Birds were chirping. The ocean
was sparkling. It felt wrong. We parked
down the street. Her car is in the
driveway, I said, pointing to her white
BMW. And I assume the truck is his.
Let's walk, Mr. Evans said. The three of
us, a very strange little parade, walked
up the sunny driveway. My heart was
pounding so hard I could feel it in my
teeth. Mrs. Evans was holding my arm. I
wasn't sure if it was for her support or
mine. Mr. Evans didn't knock. He just
walked in. The front door was unlocked.
Update two. The house was one of those
open concept beach places. Living room,
kitchen, all one big room. And they were
in it. Anna and Liam. They were at the
kitchen island drinking coffee. She was
wearing his plaid robe. He was in swim
trunks. They were laughing. She was mid
laugh when she looked up and saw us. me,
her mother, her father, standing in the
doorway. I've been an architect for 10
years. I have seen support beams crack.
I have seen foundations fail. I have
never ever seen a human face collapse
like that. The laugh died. The coffee
cup slipped from her hand and shattered
on the tile floor. Daddy. That's all she
said. Just daddy. Liam. The ex just
looked confused. Babe, who's this? Mr.
Evans didn't look at Liam. He didn't
look at me. He just stared at his
daughter who was standing in a puddle of
coffee wearing another man's robe. "Get
dressed, Anna," he said. His voice was
so quiet it was terrifying. "What? What
are you doing here? How did you Alex,
did you follow me? You You tracked me."
She was looking for an angle, a way to
make this my fault. "You're a You're a
psycho. You're controlling." I just
stood there. I didn't have to say a
thing. "Alex didn't do anything," Mrs.
Evan said, her voice shaking but finding
its steel. Your sister Anna, we spoke to
Jenna. Jenna? Anna's face went white.
She knew. She's in Cleveland, dear. Mrs.
Evans said, and she's not engaged. Anna
had nothing. She just deflated. So Liam
said finally chiming in. This is
awkward. You guys want some coffee? Mr.
Evans turned his head very slowly and
looked at this man for the first time.
You, he said. You're the reason. Hey
man, Liam said, putting his hands up.
This is on her. She called me. She said
she was single. I didn't know this. He
motioned to all of us. She what? Anna
whispered. Liam, what are you? You knew
I was engaged. We talked about it. Yeah,
we talked about how you were unhappy.
Liam said, backing away. You told me you
were going to leave him. I'm not a home
wrecker, man. I'm not getting involved
in this. He was throwing her under the
bus in 30 seconds. It was beautiful.
This is This is not what it looks like.
Anna was crying now hysterically. Daddy,
please. He means nothing. It was a
mistake. A final fling before the
wedding. A fling? Mr. Evans repeated.
Alex, baby, please, she begged, looking
at me. I love you. This was just a
stupid thing. Please, let's just go
home. We can fix this. Don't let them
Don't let them ruin this. I just looked
at her. There's nothing to fix, Anna.
The structure is rotten. What does that
mean? She screamed. It means I said that
you lied about your sister, about Vegas,
about him. You lied to me and you lied
to your parents while you were spending
their money. Mr. Evans stepped forward.
The wedding is off, Anna. What? No,
Daddy. You can't. It's It's all paid
for. Yes, he said. It is, and I will
spend the next month getting my money
back. Your mother and I, we are done. We
are so so ashamed. You're You're
choosing him over me? She shrieked,
pointing at me. I'm choosing myself, Mr.
Evbans said. I'm choosing my own
dignity, which you have spat on. You've
made me a fool. You've made your mother
a fool. He turned to Liam. She's all
yours. Liam just scoffed. No way, man.
I'm not dealing with this. I want you
all out. He pointed at Anna. You two get
your stuff. This is too much drama for
me. Anna just crumpled. She fell onto
the floor and the coffee in the robe and
just sobbed. But I have nowhere to go,
she cried. You drove me here. Liam
looked at her. That's not my problem. I
looked at Mr. Evans. He looked at me.
Alex, he said, let's go. We turned. The
three of us. Wait. Anna screamed. You're
not. You're not just leaving me here,
Alex. Mollik. Dad, you can't. Mrs. Evans
stopped. She turned. She walked back.
She didn't look at Anna. She looked at
the counter. She saw Anna's purse. She
reached into it, pulled out Anna's
wallet. She took out a single credit
card. This, she said, holding it up.
This is the emergency card we gave you.
The one we pay for. You can use it to
get a bus ticket home. We'll be
expecting you to pay us back. She tossed
it on the floor next to her. Then she
turned and she didn't look back. We
walked out. We got in the S-Class. The
last thing I heard was Anna screaming my
name. We drove away. Final update. It's
been 4 months. The drive home was
surreal. Mrs. Evans cried for the first
hour. Mr. Evans was silent. I broke the
silence. Sir, I'm going to put together
a spreadsheet of all the vendors. The
ones I've paid for, the ones you've paid
for. We need to start damage control.
Mr. Evans actually looked over at me and
smiled, a tiny, grim smile. You're a
good man, Alex. You really are. The next
week was a new kind of hell, but a
productive one. Mr. Evans and I became a
team. We were the demolition crew. We
sat in his office on a speaker phone for
two solid days. Hello, fancy flowers.
This is Robert Evans. We're canceling
the wedding. Yes. Why? My daughter
decided to defraud my family. We will be
disputing the deposit. Thank you. Hello,
Grand Hotel. We're canceling the
ballroom. Yes. Keep the deposit. I don't
care. Thank you. We managed to save
about $60,000 of the 100k. The rest was
just gone. Mr. Evans wrote me a personal
check for every single deposit I had put
down myself without me even asking.
Anna. Well, Anna's story did not end
well. She did not take the bus. She
apparently called her sister Jenna from
Wilmington. Crying, begging. Jenna, who
was just getting back from her actual
work trip to Cleveland, was confused.
But she loved her sister. She drove the
5 hours, picked Anna up from a cheap
motel. Liam had, in fact, kicked her out
and drove her home. Anna tried to go to
our apartment. The locks were already
changed. She had to go to her parents'
house. Her welcome home was not what she
expected. Mr. Evans, I learned, had
called a family meeting. Anna, Jenna,
him, and his wife. He laid it all out.
The lies, the cost, the humiliation.
Then he fired Anna. He took her off the
family credit cards. He took back the
BMW, which he owned. He told her she had
30 days to live in their house, rentree,
and find a job. After that, she was
paying them rent. Jenna, furious about
being used as an alibi, apparently told
Anna she was disgusted by her and they
haven't spoken since. But the best part,
the receipt I didn't even know I needed.
Anna, in her infinite wisdom, tried to
play the victim on social media. She
posted a long, vague story. Sometimes
the people you trust most betray you. My
fiance was a controlling, psychotic,
manipulative man who stalked me and
turned my entire family against me. I'm
broken, but I'll heal. It was a bold
move. It lasted 12 minutes. Her own
sister, Jenna, commented on the post. He
stalked you. Were you lied to him and
said you were at my bachelorette party?
The one I wasn't having because I'm not
engaged. The one you were supposed to be
at while you were in Wilmington with
Liam. Stop lying, Anna. You're not the
victim here. The internet, as they say,
is forever. Jenna's comment got
screenshotted by everyone. Anna's entire
social circle saw it. She deleted the
post and her entire account. She lost
her PR job about a week later. Turns out
clients don't like it when their PR rep
is the center of a massive public family
imploding scandal. I'm living my life.
I'm focusing on my firm. I've been
designing a lot. It's quiet. Mr. Evans
and I were weirdly friends. We get lunch
once a month. We talk about logistics
and buildings and the stock market. We
never ever talk about his daughter. Last
week he called me. Alex, he said, I'm
thinking of building a new headquarters
for the East Coast. I want your firm to
design it. I just sat there. I like the
way you work, son. He said, "You're
logical. You see the full picture.
You're not afraid to tell me the
foundation is rotten. I started the
blueprints yesterday. I got a text from
Anna from a new number last night. I
hope you're happy. You've ruined my
life. You've ruined everything. I just
blocked the number." She's right. I am
happy. I'm free and I'm about to build
Click on any text or timestamp to jump to that moment in the video
Share:
Most transcripts ready in under 5 seconds
One-Click Copy125+ LanguagesSearch ContentJump to Timestamps
Paste YouTube URL
Enter any YouTube video link to get the full transcript
Transcript Extraction Form
Most transcripts ready in under 5 seconds
Get Our Chrome Extension
Get transcripts instantly without leaving YouTube. Install our Chrome extension for one-click access to any video's transcript directly on the watch page.
