So Anyway I Started Blasting Meme Novels & Stories

Finally, I close my eyes and sleep. It's already morning, and it's Monday again, the worst day ever. I stretch my arms as I go outside my room and look at my kitchen. I prepare my breakfast, and after a while, I take out my phone and check Mimo's account on I*******m. She posts her picture while making a sad face with a caption. - I don't know what to say! I hate him so much!!!!! -

Mei said, “about half the posts are people yelling that pups aren’t property. Your speech is getting traction.” “Great,” Lyra said. “I always wanted to be meme‑quoted in between cat videos and conspiracy threads.” Mei’s gaze flicked to her phone again, lips thinning. “There’s a thread,” she said slowly, “where some genius is zooming your block photos. ‘Spot the laundromat,’ ‘track the route,’ that kind of thing. Harris and Rhea are already playing whack‑a‑mole with it, but it’s out there.”

Rather, I typed the one thing that had been stuck on my mind for the past hour. Me: These memes are not helping since I may have or may not have fucked him last weekend...and also told him minutes ago that I was glad to work UNDER him! When I hit send, I dropped the phone like it was on fire and took a deep breath, already dreading what was coming next. Right on cue, my phone blared to life. HERA I sighed, the woman was about to scream my ears off.

What if he was going? What if people talked again? My stomach flipped. Before I could spiral any further, my phone buzzed in my hand again — but this time with a name that made my heart do something dramatic and stupid. Noah Carter. I froze. Then forced myself to be normal. Cool. Chill. (Which meant staring at the name for a solid ten seconds without moving.) He was just sending a meme. Some dumb video of a cat falling off a counter too dramatically. But then: Noah:

Slay me. ~~~ Don't forget to, JOIN THE PRIVATE GROUP: https://www.f******k.com/groups/authorlizzyfatima LIKE & FOLLOW MY F* PAGE: https://www.f******k.com/Lizzy-Fatima-110539484538446

Technically, we did. "It's fine," I say instead, pulling out my notebook with shaking hands. "I don't care." But I do care. I care very much. By third period, the whispers have evolved into full-blown conversations that halt abruptly when I walk by. Someone's made a meme of my slap, with the caption "FINISH HIM" in Mortal Kombat font. Another edited my poolside photo onto the cover of Sports Illustrated. I keep my chin up, my sunglasses on, ignoring the looks and the not-so-subtle pointing.

He flings the half filled glass of water against the wall and as so expected, it shatters into many pieces. He doesn't remember much more ever since he started drinking, including how he even got to his own bed. He grabs his phone, his head still banging, even harder from his shout. He goes straight to the entertainment news and notices a hot topic. It says "Clown meme" He clicks on it, praying earnestly that it is not related to him although his subconscious tells him otherwise. He clicks on it and staring back at him, is a picture of himself, moving away as clowns came near.

That evening, Mika drank two full glasses of bubbly champagne, watching the video she had filmed and made live on YouTube and kept on laughing at Alicia's facial expressions. Her face when Frederick had screamed that the cloth was his and he had been plagiarized, her face had been priceless. She succumbs to her inner voice and screenshots it, making it into a meme and sharing it on her anonymous account that's now having about ten thousand followers on YouTube. Streaming the live had given her some sort of account access and now she has followers. She even had another reward in the reward of seeing Alicia's downfall.

I said tartly. “Let me see. Your smile is so beautiful. It looks like you’re blushing.” He tried to take my phone. “I said nothing. It’s just a meme. Yeah, a meme,” I lied. “But why are you blushing?” “I’m not blushing, Miguel. What are you talking about.” I looked at my face in the mirror. “What kind of meme is that?” he insisted. He closed the windows before starting the car and leaving the gas station. “Are you going to give me your phone or am I going to kiss you here?”

POV: Blended (Ave + Blake) --- Ave — Monday Morning, Madness Incoming The week after the pitch win was chaos. Crescent Hill’s school blog ran a feature with their photo on the homepage. The headline: > “Enemies to Engineers? Team Imani–Monroe Takes the Lead.” By second period, Ave had already been tagged in three memes, two edits, and one TikTok mashup featuring Blake’s smirk slowed down with sparkles and the caption: “That’s the face of a man down bad.”