Inappropriate News Bloopers Novels & Stories

His warmth grounded me, even as my mind spun with everything else happening in our world. Because the truth was, outside this cozy little bubble, chaos was brewing. I didn’t even have to wait long before reality intruded. Liam grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, and there it was—breaking news plastered across every channel. “Hart–Black Wedding Scandal: Failed Ceremony Leaves Guests in Shock.”

She whipped her head toward me so fast her ponytail almost hit my face. My lungs forgot how to lung. Blaire’s smile sharpened. “It was hilarious. Whoever that was? Iconic.” I forced a laugh that sounded like it belonged to someone else. “People were screaming everything.” Blaire hummed like she didn’t believe me, then lifted her phone and tilted it slightly. “Anyway, I’m posting a ‘Concert Chaos’ compilation. If you have any videos, send them.” “I don’t,” I said immediately. Blaire’s eyes flicked over me. Assessing. Measuring.

I tried again out of pure disbelief. Still blocked. I stared at the screen, breathing hard. “Unbelievable,” I muttered. No. More than unbelievable. Insulting. I was already grabbing my keys, thinking of driving over to that ridiculous complex and forcing a conversation, when my phone buzzed with a message from Betty. A link. Sir, I think you should see this. I clicked it. A livestream loaded from one of those gossip sites that fed on celebrity scandals, corporate drama, and rich people humiliating each other in public. Normally, I ignored them.

Axel said it with a tone full of sarcasm. "You're going to let all that happen? They even called me a mistress. Are you happy with all this? But I do not! I'm not your mistress," Blair hissed. "You are not my mistress. But, according to them, you're the newcomer trying to seduce me." Axel laughed as he said that and was referring to the latest news broadcast on television. Axel pointed at the monitor screen inside the limousine. "What is this?" Blair was furious. "Why are they making such tacky and embarrassing news? They make up their own and create their own stories that are not in reality. The world is so terrible!" complained Blair.

The moment it turned on, it exploded. Notifications poured in so fast the screen stuttered. Calls. Messages. Alerts. Mentions. Tags. News banners. The kind of digital nightmare you get when you’ve accidentally insulted a beloved pop star on T*****r. I stared at the glowing chaos like it might suddenly break into song and dance. “Oh great,” I muttered. “I’ve become famous for the wrong reasons. Again.” I clicked one of the news alerts. And there it was. CLARA VALE: SPOILED, ARROGANT, AND OUT OF CONTROL?

The news reporters heard the commotion and while the employees stopping them were distracted looking at Annabel, they tripped in and started filming what was going on. “Some random freak burst out of nowhere and posted something that's completely not true, and you all believed it right away without looking for proofs. I'm ashamed at how many of you claim to be humans but don't behave like one.” “You have no right to say that. You were the one who left your fiancè and went to another man!” A girl snapped.

Malachi uttered. ’Thank you.” I didn’t feel beautiful because it wasn’t me.. “Now I have a face to go along with the voice,” “Well now I have a face I could masturbate to,” I felt so embarrassed. “Fuck! “I’m sorry, I said that out loud didn’t I?” He chuckled, “Yes you did.” “My bad.” “Don’t worry about it. I like your lack of a filter.” Malachi said. “Well, it gets me in trouble.”

, I said finally finding my voice. He continued laughing, "Yeah I can see that, clearly because it's already trending", he said showing me his phone. I shrieked loud and grabbed the phone, "Celebrity feminist Lexy Emiliano having an exotic moment on camera with her secret lover?? what the fuck is wrong with social media, damn these bloggers", I yelled. "Damn it, they missed the Mattew part", Amber said less concerned as be grabbed the tv remote to change the channel. I growled, he laughed at me.

We were messing around with that nerdy chick, Emily, the one who's always got her nose in a book. She looked rough, yeah—sick from whatever flu was going around, or maybe just lightweight on the beers we pushed her to chug. But it was harmless fun, right? Laughing, recording her stumbling a bit, her forced giggles turning into miserable whimpers. But somehow this managed to get posted by some rat. And the caption hit like a gut punch, beating me to my own games? What the actual hell? My blood ran cold, then boiled over in seconds. "No, no, no," I growled, replaying the videos. How the hell did someone get this? We were alone in that apartment—Tyler's uncle's place, no one else around.

I replied her then answered the call. “Hello, am I speaking with Ms. Maria Bellucci. Yeah, uhhh, this is the CEO of Trojan Media. Our media house passed out the news this morning that you uhmm, you had shady dealings with money launderers. We are very sorry about that because we realized that the news from the whistleblower was wrong. We are taking down the news from all our platforms and we will tender a public announcement and apology. We are sorry again ma.” I didn't know what to say after the call but then I had recorded the call in my phone.