Cerita Pendek & Novel Live Streaming

In my sixth year of running an inn in Rimevale, I'm diagnosed with bone cancer. I leave the inn in the hands of my fiancé, Eric Jones, and head to Varenia with nothing but an old enamel mug. Once I'm there, I start a livestream called "My Last 100 Sunsets." Every day at 7:00 pm, I turn the camera toward the snowcapped mountains and make coffee just out of frame. On my 31st livestream, a comment suddenly catches my eye. "Wait. Does that mug at the edge of the frame have a V-shaped chip in it?" Six years ago, when a blizzard left us stranded in the mountains, I kept that same mug filled with hot spiced cider for Eric all night. The chat explodes. "That's Alice Graham from Veylune Inn!" "Alice, why are you calling these your last sunsets?" Then a private message from Eric pops up. "Alice, where are you? Send me your location right now." What he doesn't know is that the night before I start chemo, I go back to the inn to get my documents and hear him and our receptionist, Denise Snyder, together in our bedroom. They're in the bed I picked out for us. "What if Alice comes back and catches us?" Denise asks. Eric laughs. "She won't leave me. Not after six years together." Standing outside the door, I open the confirmation email from an assisted-dying clinic in Varenia and click "Accept." By the time more than 100,000 people have signed up to watch my 100th livestream, Eric finally recognizes the snowcapped mountains outside my window and realizes where I am. I change the stream title to "My 100th Sunset: I Won't Be Here for Sunrise."

My mom, a wealthy philanthropist who donated millions, only allowed me to spend a single dollar on each meal. Even the cheapest dish at school costs two bucks. To survive, I had no choice but to eat my classmate’s leftovers every day. When Mom found out, she didn’t show any sympathy. In fact, she came to school and, in front of all the students, slammed a plate onto my head. “Pathetic little thing! I’m not stopping you from eating, so why are you begging? “The school meals are expensive? Then why don’t you work hard and save up?” Out of anger, I took Mom to court. If I won, she would go to prison for abusing me. If I lost, I would be executed completely. I was confident… Who would’ve thought Mom would win?

My father, Terence Locke, is covered in mud. He grabs my shoulders desperately, and his eyes are bloodshot. He says, "Emma, my company has gone bankrupt, and I accidentally killed a business rival. You have to run away with me." I believe him. Suppressing my fear, I follow him deep into the untouched mountains. To find food for him, I eat bugs and drink dirty water. When a pack of wolves closes in on our cave, my first instinct is to stand in front of him. "Dad, I'll lure them away. Run!" I look back at him one last time before finally making up my mind to trade my life for his. But after I leap off a seemingly bottomless cliff and fall to a pulp on the rocks below, I somehow "see" him inside a slowly descending helicopter. He is popping a bottle of champagne in celebration. At that moment, I finally understand everything. The whole desperate escape over the past few days that ultimately pushes me to sacrifice my life is nothing more than a reality show staged by him. He is merely putting on a performance, while I am truly dead...

The battery in my artificial heart is about to run out, yet no matter where I look, I can't find the spare battery. When I turn around, I realize that my wife, Tracy Maddox, has installed it in a streaming camera. She is using it to livestream a fundraiser for her sick first love, Gavin Spade, who has a cold. "Come on, everyone. Send more gifts! Gavin feels terrible because of his cold. Once we raise enough money, I'll take him to get the most expensive imported cold injection available!" I am so enraged that my vision darkens for a moment, like I'm about to pass out. I shout, "Tracy, you know exactly what happens if my heart loses power. Are you going to just watch as I die?" Covering the microphone, Tracy turns to me and shouts back, "Gavin has a fever of 102.2 degrees Fahrenheit! Your heart is just out of power. Can't you just wait a little while? Once the livestream is over and we've raised enough money for his injection, I'll give the battery back to you!" Using the last of my strength, I activate the emergency communication system inside my artificial heart and contact the R&D center. "The artificial heart is about to stop permanently. Activating the black box... Uploading evidence of murder in real time..."

To support my husband Jasper Young's business, I spent four years livestreaming myself eating. I went from 100 pounds to 200 pounds because of that. Tonight, I started my live stream as usual, but a message from Jasper suddenly popped up on my phone. [End the stream now. Stop eating. Ruby feels sick just watching you eat.] The food in my mouth was suddenly tasteless, but I didn't dare stop. Instead, I shoved the food into my mouth even faster. My phone kept buzzing. His criticisms came one after another. [Kirsten, I told you to stop eating. Ruby is already suffering because of her pregnancy. Are you trying to upset her on purpose?] [You're both women. And Ruby's your best friend. How can you have no empathy for her?] [Is this because you can't have children? Are you jealous of her?] [You were the one who agreed to let Ruby have my child in the first place.] [Are you trying to go back on your word and make everyone miserable?] Tears finally fell into the bowl, and the food in my mouth tasted like dust. I had spent four years livestreaming, and ten years by his side. I gained 100 pounds, and this was what I got in the end. I couldn't keep swallowing the bitterness of this marriage anymore.

Right after getting reborn, the first thing I do is start a livestream with the equipment I've brought to the main entrance of a bank. There, I humiliate myself on purpose just to attract the viewers' attention. Immediately, tens of thousands of viewers flock to my channel. After that, I take off my high heels on the spot and throw them at the armored truck that's carrying cash with all my might. "Get down! Don't move!" As I listen to the guards' stern warnings and watch as they aim their guns at me, I just spread my arms with a smile on my face. "This is a robbery! Hand over the money!" In my previous life, my business partner, Zachary Leed, and the finance director of my company, Yvette Sanders, had betrayed me. They used the perks that came with their jobs to receive illegal loans while using my company as a collateral asset. In the end, they fled with the cash, leaving me with the shitty aftermath to deal with. I was given a life sentence in jail in order to atone for the crimes Zachary and Yvette had pinned on me. My brother went all over the nation and spent all of his fortune just to seek justice for me, but he ended up dying from depression. When I open my eyes again, I yell loudly to the viewers watching my livestream at the moment. "Everyone, you shall witness the most historic moment ever! Come with me as I rob a bank right in front of your eyes on this livestream!"

I watched my own pup be brutally slaughtered with my own eyes, yet I protected the killer for seven years. The Elders begged me to name the killer, but I simply yawned and went to sleep. The pack cornered me in the courtyard, accusing me of being a heartless traitor, so I picked up a silver dagger and threatened them all. My Alpha mate, however, never broke our mating bond. This man who had once held me in the highest regard had bound me in our home's dungeon with a silver chain. Defying the pack's opposition, he insisted on keeping my Luna title, yet he came to interrogate me every single day. Until, seven years later, when a witch claiming she could extract memories arrived at the pack, he sent me to the memory trial altar. But after seeing the killer in my memories, everyone was left in absolute shock. My mate, especially, could barely even stay on his knees.

The fake heiress was dead. My biological parents believed I was responsible. Together, they reported me to the authorities and demanded that my memories be extracted. After watching my memories, everyone broke down in tears. But I smiled. This was exactly what I wanted. To become the perfect victim.

"He forced me! That night, he got me pregnant." Before the Werewolf High Council, at a public trial livestreamed for the world to see, a low-ranking Omega named Selena cradled her belly and accused me. "I tried to fight back, but I was utterly paralyzed by his Alpha presence. He broke the leg of someone who tried to stop him!" Outside the Council hall, furious protesters brandished signs, their shouts branding me a monster who couldn't think past his dick. Online, every comment section was flooded with the same demand: "Execute that monster Alpha!" The stock of the Blackstone Group, the empire I built from nothing, plummeted. Even the elders I myself had elevated were now clawing over one another to strip me of my Alpha title. When the Chairman brought down his gavel, I stepped forward, slowly raising my hands to unbutton my shirt. "I am a female Alpha." "So please, tell me, in front of the entire werewolf world, how exactly did I get you pregnant with something I don't have?"

At a highway service area, the man parked in the next space points under his van and shouts that it's leaking fuel and is about to explode. I am a veteran auto mechanic with ten years of experience. Without hesitation, I slide under the vehicle and, within ten seconds, clamp off the fuel line. The moment I crawl back out, I catch the smell of mineral water. The owner, Billy Dickson, immediately pulls out his phone and starts a livestream while several of his accomplices pin me against the hood. "Watch this, everyone! We set the perfect trap and caught a gang of catalytic converter thieves! See how smoothly he got under the chassis? He's obviously a repeat offender. Every missing part at this service area has to be his doing!" Covered in dirt and grease, I try to explain to the crowd that I only cut the line because I thought the vehicle was about to catch fire and endanger everyone nearby. Billy spits a thick wad of phlegm right onto my shoe. "Who asked you to stick your nose into my business? You crawled under my van because you wanted to steal parts! Either you pay for a brand-new vehicle today, or I'll hand you over to the police and make sure you rot in prison!" Not wanting to delay getting my wife, who's about to go into labor, to the hospital, I grit my teeth and transfer them 20,000 dollars to settle the matter privately. Three days later, on a long downhill stretch of a winding mountain road, Billy's van completely loses its brakes. Black smoke pours from the tires. He recognizes my car and frantically blares the horn. Rolling down his window, he begs me to tell him how to survive. I simply press down on the accelerator and widen the distance between us, my face completely expressionless. "Back for another livestream to chase views? Give me a break. To prove I'm not a car thief, I already threw my wrenches into the river. You'll have to figure out for yourself how to jump out of the van."

I was the traitor everyone in the Flame Pack loathed. I was the former Alpha's sister, and at the Flame Pack's darkest hour, I abandoned my mate and my baby daughter and defected to our enemy, the Dark Moon Pack. I even killed my own brother and climbed over his corpse to become the Dark Moon Pack's Beta. Two months ago, gravely wounded, I collapsed on the Flame Pack's border. The guards on patrol threw me into prison and tortured me for information. I never said a word. My former mate, Eugene Carter, now the Alpha of the Flame Pack, kept delaying my execution on the grounds that there wasn't enough evidence. That angered everyone. Furious crowds took to the streets, marching and demanding the traitor be put to death at once. So Eugene's current mate, Edna Parker, proposed putting me on trial with the Memory Crystal. The Memory Crystal extracts a person's most important memories and projects them for everyone to see. The price is agony beyond human endurance, followed by death and the complete dissolution of the condemned person's soul. For ten years, Edna had passed along countless messages that helped the Flame Pack resist the Dark Moon Pack. Her contributions had been immense. Everyone supported her proposal, certain the Memory Crystal would prove my guilt once and for all. Eugene agreed. But none of them knew that the truth they were about to uncover with their own hands was far crueler than anything they had imagined.

On the day we finish our SATs, my snobbish deskmate, Ava Levine, insists that we film a graduation confession video together. I reluctantly agree out of courtesy, but to our surprise, the video goes viral overnight. Hooked on her newfound fame, she forces her way into my home and demands that I give up my spot at a top university to become an influencer with her. When I refuse, she starts a livestream at midnight, drawing an audience of a hundred thousand. With fake bruises painted on her body, she bursts into tears and accuses me of sexually assaulting her after I pretend to confess my feelings for her. She also claims that I hold her captive and abuse her. Her fanatical fans dox me overnight. They splatter red paint across my home and send me razor blades in the mail. In the ensuing chaos, one of her fans pushes my mom down the stairs, taking her life instantly. Before I can even clear my name, a speeding car runs me over on my way to the police station. A wave of excruciating pain tears through me. Then, my eyes snap open. I'm back on the day our exams are over, just as Ava holds up her phone and pleads, "Just pretend to say yes, please. I'm begging you."

After swallowing my fourth painkiller, I spent the entire morning sitting in my hotel room in the wedding dress Curtis Bradford had picked out for me. The car that was supposed to take me to the ceremony never showed up. Instead, I came across a livestream of a wedding that had gone viral around town. On-screen, Curtis slipped the pink diamond ring I had begged him for onto the bride's finger. The bride was Shannon Cobb, my biological sister who had disappeared ten years ago. Curtis looked straight into the camera. "Leslie, I know you're watching. "Ten years ago, you lost Shannon and put her through hell. I only let you believe I was going to marry you because I wanted you to know what it feels like to be abandoned." The camera panned to my parents and my brother, Richard Cobb, who were supposed to be helping set up my new home. Richard looked into the camera and said, "You've had ten years of our love and attention. Give back everything that should've been Shannon's, and we'll consider your debt paid." I stared at the happy family on the screen, completely numb. Then I closed the livestream and threw the keepsake I had gotten for Curtis into the trash, along with my wedding ring and veil. None of them knew I had been diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer the month before. Even with painkiller injections, I could barely stay on my feet that day. All I wanted was to marry Curtis before I died and let my parents and Richard see me happy one last time. But that wasn't going to happen anymore. I only had three days left. I might as well find somewhere quiet and wait for the end.

Because I asked the cafeteria to refund the two cents I'd been overcharged for a plate of leftovers, someone filmed me and posted the video on the campus forum, turning me into the "refund warrior" everyone online loved to hate. Just as people were dragging me for being both poor and heartless, my brother, Jack Griffin, showed up at the school gates on a livestream, wearing a worried expression. He held up a spending record and shoved it in my face. "Brielle, Mom sends you $10,000 every month for living expenses. "Dad worries you'll have a hard time away from home, so he secretly gives you another $5,000. Even I, as your brother, save $3,000 from my monthly paycheck to send you. "You get $18,000 a month, and you still asked for a refund after donating just $10 to a sick classmate. Where did your conscience go?" The comments exploded instantly. "$18,000 a month and she's still the refund warrior? She's seriously messed up!" I stared at the string of fake transfer screenshots on Jack's phone. Then I looked at the limited-edition sneakers on his feet—the ones he'd bought with my living expenses. 'Fine. If you all insist I was greedy for money, then I'll be greedy enough to show you exactly what that looks like.'

"Evelyn Vane. You conspired with the Fallen. You tried to murder Tania Swann, future Lady of the Nightfall Court. Today, your blood wakes the Blood Mirror. We will rip out your memories. We will seal your fate." In the ancient catacombs, the Blood Mirror cast a dark red halo in the candlelight. My former fated mate lounged on his black velvet throne. He was Valerius Cross, the noble Lord of the Nightfall Court. Those eyes used to look at me with love. Now, they held only disgust. "The Blood Mirror will show every betrayal you've committed against this Court. Our entire kind will see the monster hiding under that pretty skin!" Tania clung softly to Valerius's broad chest. She traced lazy circles on his skin. A sweet, smug smile played on her lips. She was so sure the mirror would condemn me tonight. She was so sure I'd burn to ashes. The rune-carved silver chains bit deep into my flesh. Black smoke hissed from my burns. Even so, I spoke. My voice was broken. "Valerius, are you sure about this? Do you really want my blood to show you my memories? Once it starts... none of you can turn back."

At the court, my daughter, Hannah Wright, accuses me of being a sexist tormentor with violent tendencies. With tears running down her cheeks, she slowly takes off her clothes, revealing her wounds to everyone present. "She's a monster! She buys mangoes for my younger brother, Rodney, and yet she makes me kneel on the floor while munching on the peels! "Then, she beats me up in public and even strips me naked before forcing me to kneel and apologize! On top of that, she doesn't feed me at all!" Everyone gasps in shock before glaring at me angrily. They are all waiting for me to get sentenced to hell and back. But what Hannah refuses to bring up is that I can't let her eat any mangoes due to her severe allergy. If she were to have any, she'd go into shock immediately. I beat her up because she had the audacity to switch out the tea leaves to sheep droppings just to pull a prank on an elderly family member during her funeral. Naturally, I punished her because she actually mixed weed killer into Rodney's milk and tried to feed him with it! At the end of the day, Hannah remembers the pain she's been through, yet she completely forgets about the atrocious misdeeds that she herself has committed!

My roommate was obsessed with those cheesy “milk-scented girl” romance stories. She wanted to become the kind of heroine from those books. Tiny, soft, and delicate, the type who was supposedly so sweet that even her farts smelled like milk. So she went completely overboard. She lived on dairy. Drank milk nonstop. Even took milk baths. She tried everything, all because she was convinced she’d eventually run into her destined male lead. I believed in letting people make their own choices. What I didn’t expect was for her to go after my boyfriend, the guy I’d basically grown up with. One day, she sent him a carefully posed thirst trap. He replied with one word. “Get lost.” Then she proudly showed me the screenshot, like she’d won something. “Only girls like me, soft and sweet and irresistible, deserve a powerful man’s obsessive love.” “Don’t be fooled by how cold he is now. He’ll be crazy about me soon enough. He’ll want me all to himself.” I was just about to tear into her when a row of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. “Fresh one, guys. This host is bold. Coming in with a thirst trap right away? Nice.” “Wait, what? Isn’t this just harassment? The male lead already has a girlfriend.” “Bro, I think you’re in the wrong livestream.”

In my third year as an online relationship-advice streamer, I finally saved up enough in viewer tips to cover my boyfriend's share of our wedding funds. I went live one last time, planning to announce that I was quitting streaming for good, when a young woman sent over a hundred thousand dollars' worth of gifts to request a live call with me. "My husband is just too perfect. There are always women trying to take my place. What do I do?" The chat burst out laughing at how dramatic she sounded. I was the only one quietly celebrating. With that kind of money, Gary Litt would never have to stress over our wedding funds, a car, or a house again. She ignored the skeptics in the chat and kept pouring out her troubles. "Yesterday, I found out some woman's been sending him money. And get this — it was 362.56 dollars! Down to the penny! "That's not even enough to cover one of my meals. You don't think some broke woman has her hooks in my husband, do you?" I froze. Just last night, I'd cashed out my tips and transferred money to Gary for our wedding fund. It was that exact amount. Just then, another voice cut in on her end. "Babe, are you imagining things again? Which one of your girlfriends are you badmouthing me to this time?" His teasing complaint was laced with affection. But I felt a chill creep through me, inch by inch. The "perfect" husband she was talking about and my boyfriend — who couldn't even scrape together anything for our wedding fund — were the same man.