Backstabbed Meme Novels & Stories

Making memes about my “downfall.” Someone had created a hashtag: #VivianCrossIsOver It was trending number one. My hands shook as I went to settings and turned off comments on all my posts. Then I made my account private. Then I deleted I*******m entirely. But T.w.i.t.t.e.r was worse. F.a.c.e.b.o.o.k was worse. Even L.i.n.k.e.d.i.n had people commenting on my profile about the scandal. I was being destroyed. Publicly. Systematically.

“Oh thank God, backup. Jackson, explain memes to your boyfriend. He doesn’t understand why anyone would care about a woman yelling at a cat.” “It’s not that I don’t care,” Frost protested. “I just don’t understand the context. Is this a human realm inside joke? Did something happen with this specific woman and cat?” I couldn’t help but laugh, dropping my bag by the door. “Frost, it’s just a meme. It doesn’t have to make sense. That’s kind of the point.” “But—” “Nope.” Maya held up a hand. “We’re moving on. Next meme.” She scrolled down, and Frost leaned in closer, his expression adorably perplexed.

Following that, I received an invitation from Alexis to join a group chat named "Future Unicorn Core Members" When I joined the chat, the group happened to be active, with messages flying by my screen. However, what caught my attention was that most of the messages were meme stickers of that unflattering photo of me.

I scrolled through the comment section and all I saw were the bitter comments. @Cocomilo: Finally, we get to see the fall of those fools! @Ajeyli: Triple A my foot. Look who's now a Triple D, suckers! I can't wait for the big news!’ @Youcancallmedaddy: I'll give someone $200 if they're able to get me the information before the poster upload it. @Callmemummy: Eat your money @Youcancallmedaddy, you look like a skeleton in your profile.

He's remembering her laugh. "Can I see?" The question leapt out, sharp and brittle as breaking glass. He looked up, surprised, then shrugged. "Sure?" He held out the phone. My fingers were cold as I took it. The screen was bright in the dim room. It was, as promised, a dumb meme- a photoshopped picture of a famous building with a ridiculous caption about architects. The group chat was labeled "The Drafting Table." The last three senders were Ben, another old friend, Ben again. The shame was immediate, corrosive, flooding my veins with heat. I had barged into an innocent moment and exposed the festering sickness of my own mind. I thrust the phone back at him as if it had burned me.

Tabitha: I stormed into my office and nearly slammed the door in Nora's face as she came in. That bastard! I can't believe that he went that far! I sat down at my desk and, without thinking, I reached for my phone. As soon as I opened my social media, notifications came buzzing in like a swarm of flies. Everywhere I looked, everyone was using my picture as that meme. How much had Ryan really made off of this? What did he even get for making me become an internet trend, an internet laughing stock?

He sat at a table in a corner and got a black coffee, his back to the wall. And he finally gazed. He opened social media apps. He was trending. The picture was everywhere. It had been memed. Clarkson' painful face had the "When they're out of avocado toast" and "Me realizing I left the oven on" captions. Their clasped hands were photoshopped onto different romantic movie posters. The ridicule was worse than the ill will. It twisted something as weak and genuine as his most honest moment into a poor joke. It stripped all of its force and significance and turned it into a joke.

And then abruptly, something changed. Kim shared a story about a guy she used to see from her old pack, some smooth-talker who could whip up a lie so convincing you’d believe it even after he stabbed you in the back. Zane joined in with a story about a dude who sent her “good morning” everyday for three weeks and never spoke to her again. “Three weeks?!” Kim gasped. “That’s like… enough time to fake your own death!” “I know, right?” Zane said, throwing her hands up. “And then he pops back like nothing happened, sending me a meme about… I don’t even remember. Something stupid.”

With a smug expression, he parted his lips, ready to state his purpose. Before he could say anything, Mudryk declared. "You riffraffs! Are you blind? How dare you block our way?" Do you have a death wish?" Hearing that, Stab and his boys froze in shock. What's going on? That should be our speech not his! Quite arrogant huh? "So, you think this bunch of men can protect you? I laugh you in Swahili!" Stab gave out a pretty loud chuckle which to him, whenever he laughed that way whoever he is facing begins to shake with fear, but to his surprise neither Jake nor his boys shaked.

I rolled my eyes and was about to walk him through the power points of a backhand flick when my hand slipped and hit the sticker beside it. A "Peppa Pig bawling her eyes out" sticker went through. My stomach dropped. It was a sticker I used all the time on my main account, totally at odds with the cold, ruthless tactics-genius image of IceTyrant. The other end went silent for a full minute. "Master... did you get hacked?" I quickly hit unsend. "My cat stepped on it." "So even a legend like you keeps a cat! That's adorable! I'm buying you the best cat treats money can buy and shipping them tomorrow!"