Michael Meme Novels & Stories

Times like this, I wished Katy was here, yet here I was still hurt by the situation. I was snapped out of my thoughts as a pillow hit me in the face. "Um, Ow, what the hell was that for?" "Please, you know that didn’t even hurt. Now, go, It's your turn," Michael said, smirking. Another fun fact, Andrew’s best friend got released from jail, which was absolutely amazing. Please, note my sarcasm. I have come to strongly dislike Michael. All the other guys are cool, but he just annoys the hell out of me.

“Am doing all I can. Things take time. We can’t rush them or we might ruin this before it even had a chance.” “That’s shrink bullshit,” Michael told me, then put some distance between us. “Now I am fucking done talking. You have more than you could be doing.” This time, it was me that gave him the questioning look. “Get stronger, faster, and fight better. You are going to be challenged and trust me, you are not fucking ready. In fact, I say you suck, like really suck.” “What? I do not. Quit saying that!” “You do too. I mean holy crap, I’ve seen humans hold their own better than you,” he told me, the smug smirk reappearing on his face. “And if you want me to stop saying the truth, then come o

Michael overheard this and looked at his father. “Daddy falls in dog poop? Ewww!” Michael looked disgusted. Matt scoffed and was offended by his son’s disgust. “H-Hey! Don’t look at me like that! It’s a funny memory!” He defended himself. Michael and I laughed louder, uncaring if we were being too noisy on the plane.

Rayan shivered just a little, pushing the thought away as he continued scrolling. Rayan's internet snooping was interrupted by a familiar hand waving in front of his screen, the colorful woven bracelets being a dead giveaway. He looked up as Michael struck a pose. "Well," Michael ran his fingers through his now vibrant hair, "looks great, right? It ALWAYS turns out better when you come along!" "That came out amazing!" Rayan oogled at the way his friend's hair shifted when he ran his fingers through it. "I paid already, so we're good to go. I'm craving Micky D's sooo bad right now!"

He then, slowly and carefully removed his hand on my wound before standing up. "Damn, Gabriel. I've never thought that you're a fan of Bruno Mars!" Michael said. He still looked worried but he's now smiling a bit so I frowned at what he said. "What do you mean?" I asked and he grinned at me. "Cause he's willing to get a bullet straight to his brain?" he said as he scratched his head and I couldn't help but give him a smack. Everyone laughed aside from Maze and the two kids because it's either they don't get it or they don't think it's funny. Just like me.

“You are ridiculous, bros. He probably has not regained his memories yet. Give him some time, “Drake suggested. “I really wished that was the case, Drake. But one minute I hear he regains part of his memory, the next minute he looses it again” Michael complained bitterly. “I feel your pain to, bro. Why don't we go take coffee?” Drake proposed. “I would prefer we take beer” Michael brought up another idea. “Ohh! Someone wants to rip away the pains they are having. Let's go, I know just the perfect place we should go” Drake recommended. ***

He smirked, his green eyes glistening. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I remember you.” I said, still trying to put my finger on what exactly was familiar about him. “Oh, it’s okay; you probably remember me with glasses. It's me, Michael, remember? We did the same major back in college. We would study together.” And that’s when it hit me: it was sweet little Michael. Well, he was so little anymore; he got really muscular and had wide, broad shoulders. Does he work out a lot now?

He turned away, sounding very disappointed. "I've heard of M," replied Millie. Michael snorted. "Then do you know M base?" "I do," whispered Millie. He looked at her and snacked while speaking. "Wow! Great that you know. M is the only one who can make me a follower in this life." He crossed his arms, his eyes filled with anticipation. "If M stood in front of me and told me to work for her, I would bow without hesitation and dedicate myself to her cause."

Two seconds later— Buzz. He glanced down. And nearly choked. Vivian had sent him a ridiculous meme of a grumpy-looking cat with the caption: "This is you 24/7." Michael exhaled sharply through his nose, trying to suppress the smirk tugging at his lips. But then she followed up with— “Actually, the cat looks friendlier.” A short laugh escaped him before he could stop it. The room went silent. Every executive in the meeting turned to look at him. The presenter, who had been droning on about projections, froze mid-sentence.

"Why the hell is someone sending me a video? Boring." A second message popped up from another contact—this time, with a comment. [Michael, congrats! You're an internet sensation now. I downloaded your masterpiece and saved it for future viewing. Gonna enjoy it every now and then!] Michael's annoyance spiked. The message was from a guy in his social circle—one notorious for his disturbing, degenerate taste in videos. Michael always found his content repulsive. He mumbled, "My masterpiece? What the hell is he talking about?"