Sans Live Novels & Stories

Pain of love last for a lifetime Next will be updated soon!

Fuck it. I pulled out my phone without a second thought and after messaging around the home screen for a bit, my thumb found the I*******m icon. My thumb hovered for a second and then I opened it and started a live video. My face blinked to life on my screen and people started popping into the live almost immediately. Usernames I vaguely recognized from my follows flooded the chat—some girls, some hardcore male hockey fans. Comments flashing up too fast to read but I saw a few... NOAH CARTER IS LIVE??

I ask, pointing toward the door he’s so casually dismissing. “It’s like live p**n,” he explains, barely glancing back at me. “You know those live streams where people pay to talk to the performer or bid to see them do something more? Same concept. Except this is real life. The joined rooms can be used by couples, single guests, or even a worker with a guest, depending on what’s arranged.”

But Alive. A single caption scrawled below in red: “Next.”

Not free. Just waiting.

I turned to it. My old S22 Ultra? I quickly reached for it, my heart thumping fast. The screen lit up, and the date smacked me in the face. June 12, 2022. Wh—what is going on? It was June 20, 2025, the day I was hit with that damn vase and died. So how the hell am I seeing myself in the past? Back to three years ago? Back to the very beginning... when I just started taking those pills?

The livestream thumbnail sharpened into a tabletop scene—papers squared, a hand wearing a ring that looked older than the person attached to it, and a camera angle chosen to feel intimate without being honest. The title pulsed in the corner like a heartbeat somebody else owned: oxygen—MIDNIGHT SERVICE (LIVE)

Now, less than fifteen minutes later, over sixteen thousand people are watching the livestream, and the comments are wild, making me fear that my phone is about to crash. “How did this happen?” I ask quietly, and it’s more of a rhetorical question, but Keith answers anyway. “I mean, crazy husbands only show up on a livestream, confessing to killing their mistresses, only to then go on to try and kill their wives ever so rarely, so you could say the people tuned in to witness the once in a lifetime drama first hand. You’ve become really popular within a few minutes, Ms Nalani,” he explains, and my mouth opens wide in pure shock. “Truly historical,” he adds, and I gasp, laughter falling from m

It was a notification from the school official website that had been useless for a while now, until now apparently. I picked up my phone, my expression neutral as I stared at the notification. I wasn't really surprised anymore. PLAYBOOK—CRESTFIELD'S NEWEST REALITY DATING EXPERIENCE. FULL CAST AND ROOM ALLOCATIONS NOW LIVE. COUNTDOWN: 14 DAYS TO D‐DAY CLICK TO VIEW. I clicked on it and the page loaded immediately, displaying the show's logo, the banner and little profile pictures of the cast members arranged in a grid. I scrolled past all of it to the room allocations because that was the part that actually mattered the most.

In a dark room, the same news was telecasting. The person who was watching the news picked a picture from the table which was infront of him. The picture was of Zoya in which she was looking like a college girl with short hair, the person caresses Zoya's face.