My Life As An Internet Novels & Stories

LIYA POV: He seems like a different person on the internet as if he doesn't even exist at all. As it must be because no one was ever able to dig dirt on him at all. How come they can find anything like that when no one is even allowed to take interviews with him no matter which news channel is trying to get in contact with him? Everything was starting to make sense to me about his great personality but I can't believe even after getting appointed for someone big like him I never cared to do a little search on him as I was so busy enjoying those little privileges I was having recently.

All aside, as a supernatural being held accountable to the statute of secrecy, the internet is the worst invention ever. Before the internet, it was much easier to say you were someone else, and no one made a connection. It wasn’t a huge deal for many of my kind because they weren’t in the public eye. For the others in the band and me, it is. With the internet and conspiracy theories out there, we may find ourselves back into permanent retirement from performing to protect the statute of secrecy. I don’t know if I’m ready to give up music, and I know the others aren’t.

I bet my entire life fund he knew me. “The American philanderer, sybarite, roue, himself. Mad Shanewood, the commoner.” “Uh, I see.” His grey eyes scrutinized me from head to toe. “You’re the guy who had sex with the girl and ended up trying to kill herself on the internet. Why are you Americans so obsessed with the Internet?”

We chat about all kinds of things until it's time to break up. When I get home, I grab my laptop and search the internet for a new hobby to kill my time. Soon I notice that there are a number of bloggers, who simply write down their life experiences and special moments. That seems fun, but I decide to adopt a fake name. My own name would attract unnecessary attention. I make my own web address and within minutes I'm typing diligently. It's like looking back at my own life, my start as an entrepreneur and the growth of my company. Time goes by without me realizing it and before I know it, the eve has arrived.

I knew that it was literally crazy that I was doing this but it was exactly what I was going to do . I knew that in the next moment . The internet would be buzzing with so many people having so many opinions and things to say about me . The best that I coujd do is give them what to talk about . “ I smiled so hard as I logged into my i*******m account that I hadn't logged into since the day I was dumped at the altar . I didn’t know why but this space felt so different , but I wasn’t in no mood for that .

Why pay for my treatment for four whole years, it can't be with the marriage contract in mind, right? I frown, I wonder who I was, the job I used to do, was I dating anyone? Married, happy? Sad?, how did I get into an accident that clearly took my life for years? My eyes move around the room landing on the computer on the table, I Quickly take a seat, turning on the computer, hoping it will have internet access. There has to be something about me on the internet right? Maybe some social media account or something. I quickly load into the internet, "Okay, Elena Royal" I type out, but the search bar comes up with nothing, no name, no background, nothing.

Everyone on the whole internet saw what their family was really like. At first, he wasn't on camera yet. Now it wasn't just his mother—his father and himself, what they really looked like, were all shown to the public! The messages up there felt like they could jump out of the screen and appear right in front of them. "I heard you guys took money just to build a house for her brother, is that true?" "Did you guys feel at ease spending money like this?" "Just now my little brother said he wanted to be an internet celebrity, congrats, you are one now, really not a human!"

"Mid-life crisis. He'll realize his mistake in a year and trade her in for a newer model." My chest tightened. These people didn't know me. Didn't know Alexander. Didn't know anything about our relationship or my work. But they'd decided anyway. That was the problem with anonymous internet warriors. They felt entitled to opinions about lives they knew nothing about, relationships they'd never witnessed, work they'd never seen. I drained my latte, the bitter taste matching my mood. The café buzzed around me, oblivious to my spiral. A couple laughed at the next table. Someone's phone rang. Life went on while mine felt like it was under a microscope.

By now, everyone had come around with the revelation. They took a look at the girl called Lyla again seriously and felt she looked familiar! An internet celebrity like her was no different from others. Because they didn’t have any real skills, they could only rely on skirting to gain attention. So, every time they were streaming live, they just put on some strange makeup. Coupled with additional filter effects, they looked totally different from the way they were in daily life. What was the saying again? Goddess online and a matron offline!

The storm wouldn’t stop. Everywhere I turned—TVs, phones, whispered conversations—the world debated my existence. Was I a survivor or a manipulator? Brave or shameless? The internet had turned my life into a chessboard, and every move I made became another headline. By the third day, I couldn’t breathe. My world had shrunk into flashing screens and venomous words. Liar. Gold digger. Manipulator. Each label dug under my skin like glass splinters. I deleted my social accounts, but it didn’t matter—the noise lived inside me now.