My Life As An Internet Novels & Stories

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!"

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.

But as I looked at my reflection today, I noticed something surprising. The public humiliation was painful, but deep down inside my heart, I did not actually believe their cruel comments anymore. "I am okay," I said, turning around to face Naomi and Luca. "Are you sure?" Luca asked through the phone speaker. "Those comments were horrible." "They were horrible," I agreed, reaching down to smooth the fabric of my dark navy suit jacket. "But for years, I let my ex-husband make me feel like I was nothing. I used to think my body made me weak. But these strangers on the internet do not know who I am. They do not know how hard I worked to rebuild my life. Their cruel words are not true, and I am

My mom was a computer genius with a PhD who works in Silicon Valley. Shortly after I was born, she created an AI robot sister modeled after me. Mom said my AI robot sister was equipped with the world's most accurate child behavior evaluation system. The moment I made a mistake, it would detect it. From then on, my AI robot sister became the judge of my life. Whenever she issued a warning, even when I had done nothing wrong, all I received was punishment. I tried to defend myself before. But Mom said the robot she built with her own hands could never make a mistake, and she became even more convinced that I was an inferior child. On my birthday, Mom took my sister and me to participate in an

“Evie. You are trending.” “Trending? Why? It was just more like a speech!” “A hot and emotional kiss in public. After a dramatic confession. The internet lives for that.” I sat up, waving my hands like a deranged traffic conductor. “Okay okay, calm down. Bring me back, please, because I am totally lost. Like, Lost season three kind of lost.” Trina leaned in close. “You’re famous.” I scoffed. “I’m not famous.” “You’re internet famous.”

"Stealing something your mom left you? What kind of person does that?" I couldn't hold back anymore. Switching to a burner account, I commented, "Is it possible your husband was in on it with someone else?"

The storm outside wasn’t half as loud as the storm brewing online. Arielle hadn’t slept, Not really, Not after the photos leaked online, Not after reading comments that dragged her name through dirt, twisting her entire life into a narrative she didn’t recognize. Gold digger. Single mother pretending to be noble. Using her sick sister to trap a billionaire. Lies, All of it. But the internet didn’t care about truth, They cared about blood. Arielle sat stiffly on Damian’s sofa, hands clasped in her lap, phone facedown beside her as if reversing it would make the pain disappear. She had taken a loaned shirt from Damian’s closet, soft cotton, warm but nothing could warm the cold settling into he