Backstabbed Meme Novels & Stories

It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on—Jaxon was going viral. “This is going to be fun,” Kade chuckled and then kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you later.” I watched him disappear and then kept walking. I stopped in front of a locker to peel off one of the stickers. It was a cartoonish meme of Jaxon, complete with exaggerated wide eyes and a speech bubble that read: "Bidding $5000 on an ex? Obsessed much?" I scoffed, shaking my head. The next one was even worse—"Jaxon’s Punch: Weakest Move of the Year."

“Good thing you got stabbed.” I stopped. Then slowly, turned. She's smiling with her arms crossed. “What?” “I said it's a good thing you got stabbed. Kehlani or should I say anonymous x. Hackers like you deserve it. So you can learn your lesson and not act so smart.”

He shrugged. “Well, you sure fooled me!” I thought back to the night they came over the wall. The night my new life was supposed to begin! “You killed my friends that night, you know? People I had known since I was ten!” I needed a drink just thinking about that night. It felt as if it was a lifetime ago, but in fact, it had only been two or three nights prior. I couldn’t even remember anymore. His stories about the beasts and vampires completely befuddled my mind! Taking a large sip, I felt it burn down my throat all the way to my stomach.

“Karma is a bitch, right? “You finally showed your true colors.” “Desperate much?” Others were colder, meaner, and they were all sent from faceless trolls and fake accounts hiding behind cartoon icons and bold usernames. “You deserved this, Zara.” “Elena deserves better, you backstabbing bitch.” “Always knew you were fake, Zara.” “Clout-chasing snake.”

(with a crying meme attached) “All the love and money seem to go to the people who already have it.” “If you can’t fit into the circle, don’t force it. Sincerely, my phone.” “In my next life, I’d like this kind of story too.” “The turning point in life is amniotic fluid.” “This is what real cyberbullying looks like!” “Miss, do you need a loyal dog?” “Oh my god, she’s stunning. What a goddess! I need to have a word with the creator.”

"Someone hotter and less grumpy for me to do this with?" Lily's response was blunt. "Arc's the ugly, deformed waiter you kissed at your father's gala after finding out about your ex's infidelity." Chelsea winced. "Thanks for the reminder." "You needed it," Lily said. "Kevin's stealing the spotlight, and even Larry's Italian charm is overshadowing your drama. Those memes aren't helping. Almost ten memes of you crying that night has surfaced, including one with a thundercloud hovering over your head." Chelsea's anxiety spiked. Being meme-ified meant you were either ridiculously silly or famously notorious. Chelsea knew he'd become a meme for both reasons.

The backlash began, but not in the direction anyone had predicted. It started, as all modern revolutions do, online. Not with reasoned op-eds, but with a meme. A young graphic designer in Austin, Texas, took a still from Davidson’s “Lion’s Roar” speech—his face, scarred and defiant—and superimposed two lines of text in clean, bold font over his heart: LOVE IS NOT TREASON. POWER IS NOT SHAME. It was shared. Then it was remixed, translated, animated. It became a banner, a badge, a declaration.

“What?” I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My stomach had bottomed out and my fingers were trembling. He took the phone from me without asking. I watched his face shift from confusion to disbelief to pure, simmering rage. “Motherfu—” He stopped himself as his jaw clenched tight. On the screen was a post from Caleb and Tara’s shared burner account. A meme. My face had been clumsily photoshopped onto a girl screaming at a cat. The caption read: “When your meds wear off and you think your ex still loves you.”

Was about to reply, when another text popped up. Unknown number 💬: Need me to remind your little ex why he never should’ve messed with my ice-tongued princess?

"How dare you backstab me, you son-of-a-b*tch?!" John, the man labeled as [Bankrupt] and was bowing at Sean, slowly stood straight. He gloated at Sean sarcastically, and with the glee of someone who had gotten his revenge. "Do you really think you're a God, Sean Chetman? Do you think your little tricks went unnoticed?" He pointed at the [Grand Master] standing in the corner. "We were the ones who fed you every word on that so-called 'short-selling report' you used to destroy me.