James Charles Deepfake の小説・ストーリー

“I was asked to examine the video in question, the one allegedly showing Ms. Matthews paying a man named James. After running multiple verification tests, I can confirm without a doubt that the video is falsified.” He pauses, letting that sink in. “It is a very sophisticated deepfake,” he continues. “Whoever created it used advanced AI technology to superimpose Ms. Matthews face and body onto someone else. The audio is also manipulated.” He pauses and gestures to the documents my PR team are still handing out. “All of my findings are detailed in these reports. Time stamps. Frame-by-frame analysis. Everything. And it all points to the same conclusion. This video is fake.” The room erupts with

I can already see it in my head, “Jealous Best Friend Almost Jeopardizes Engagement.” This feels sadly like high school all over again. I look at my reflection in the mirror and nearly jump, my face a mess of mascara streaks and redness from crying I didn’t even realize I was still doing properly. I wash it off and breathe out slowly, forcing myself not to think about tomorrow. No more thinking about tomorrow. When I step back out, I am pretending I am okay. Kade is sitting on the edge of the bed now, elbows resting on his knees, head lifting the moment I appear. His eyes move over me slowly and pause on my legs, and I immediately want to cover up but there is nothing available.

“Brother-in-law, guess you’ll have to start calling me ‘brother’ now.” Charlie, for once, looked blank — as though struck blind. He said nothing, only let a faint smile curve his lips. It was logical — anyone thinking with a normal brain would have come to the same conclusion. Only someone not in their right mind — someone already ill with obsession — would twist it another way. And heaven, in its mercy, had decided to be cruelly generous today. “Mom, no,” James finally broke the silence. “We’re mistaken — I’m mistaken.”

“You have a death wish, breaking into my home. Do you know who I am?” Lucas turned on his camera, bodycam already streaming, but Charles didn't know. “I know exactly who you are. The man who faked a terminal illness.” “Guards!” Charles barked. “They’re resting,” Lucas said, voice calm. “I thought they looked tired.” Charles descended slowly, a sneer cutting through his aristocratic facade. “You have guts. How did you even get past my systems?” “Professional habit.” “What do you want?” “A confession. On camera.”