Social Viewer Novels & Stories

Stephanie is a brilliant but nerdy student who gets bullied for her academic success. Dubbed "Teacher's Pet" by her classmates, Stephanie hatches a plan to get back at her tormentors by trying to seduce and then get her teacher Mr. Richard fired. However, her scheme backfires when she finds herself actually falling for him. Their secret romantic relationship begins to bloom, but the school's queen bee and Stephanie’s longtime bully Stacy has always had a crush on Mr. Richard herself. When Stacy discovers the forbidden affair between Stephanie and the teacher, she is furious and makes it her mission to destroy them no matter the cost. Stephanie struggles to make it through the school year as her academic future, social standing, and forbidden love all hang in the balance while her vindictive bully threatens to reveal the scandalous relationship. Will Stephanie’s connection with Mr. Richard continues even as it puts both their reputations and livelihoods at risk? Can she triumph over her bully's cruel schemes, graduate with honors, and find a way for her forbidden romance to survive?

During the long National Day holidays, I planned a Golden Highlands trip for the whole family. I even booked tickets for a luxurious train ride so we could enjoy the scenery. But on departure day, my husband and son vanished. I called my husband. I could hear an airport boarding announcement in the background. My voice trembled. "Where are you?" He panicked and mumbled that the company had an emergency before hanging up. I tried calling again, but the line was busy. The next day, he posted an update on his social media. In the photo, he stood beneath the snowy peaks of Wintercrown with one arm around his old love while the other held our son. The caption read: [If we had been a little braver back then...] A friend commented: [Where is your wife?] I stared at his reply: [She's sick and resting at home.] Three expired train tickets sat on the table as my eyes welled up with tears. A decade of marriage. A pack of lies. It was time to bring it all to a close.

On the day I was awarded the highest honor in the vampire world—the Order of the Night—I died. Three hours after my death,my parents, my brother, and my Consort had just finished celebrating my sister’s Nightfall Commencement. While my sister Olivia was posting warm, smiling family photos on the vampire social network,I was locked in the basement,dragging my tongue across my phone screen,desperately trying to make a call for help. The only person who answered was my Consort—Julian. He said only one thing: “Bella, stop acting. Olivia’s Nightfall Commencement is important. Stop throwing a tantrum.” That was the ninety-ninth time they had disappointed me.And the last. I lay in a pool of blood so dark it was nearly black,my breathing fading into nothing. They thought I was just sulking somewhere,hiding as usual. They believed that if they taught me a lesson,I would crawl back obediently, like I always did. But they didn’t know. I had never left the house. I was already dead.

In the world of werewolves, bloodlines and social status hold all the power. Ariel, the daughter of the Alpha of the Blue Moon pack, had always longed for her mate and all that comes with it but when she finds out her mate is a mere bodyguard, she rejects him without a second thought. Zeres, the bodyguard, is shocked and enraged by her rejection, but he's determined to get revenge. He has a secret power that only a select few are aware of - and he's ready to use it to his advantage. Ariel's father wanted to be one step ahead and appointed Zeres as Ariel's personal bodyguard, little did he know it was the perfect opportunity for Zeres to enact his revenge - and what better way to exact revenge than the proximity of the one you couldn't ignore. Besides the mate pull was still there even though she rejected him. But as Zeres spends more time with Ariel, he begins to wonder if his desire for revenge is clouding his judgment. Will his feelings for Ariel get in the way of his plans? And will Ariel's father's political ambitions stand in the way of their forbidden love?

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."

"Eighteen point eight centimeters," I said, pushing my oversized tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of my nose. "According to your anatomical data, that is the estimated length of your private parts, Matteo. I can get results without entering a laboratory." The soaking wet, shirtless, and absolutely furious mafia boss standing before me was rendered utterly speechless for the first time in his life! Nova was a genius cybersecurity programmer who suffered from social anxiety, despised human touch, and perceived the world solely through mathematical formulas.Her only dream during her vacation in Crete was to lie down and sleep on the calm waters inside her pink strawberry inflatable tube. However, the sea surface currents had drafted a fatal algorithm for her. Drifted out into the open sea, Nova found herself aboard the luxury yacht of Matteo—a mafia boss notorious for his cruelty in international waters, possessing a V-taper physique that was illegally flawless. Was she to hold the hand of this ruthless man to avoid drowning, or become shark bait? This was exactly how one became the fake wife of a billionaire mafia leader!

All along, I've been following a social media account that's dedicated to a couple sharing about their romance. It doesn't have a lot of followers, but the posts are all very heartwarming. The owner of the account records all the little details about his relationship with his girlfriend. They get into arguments over a plate of pasta before breaking into laughter and calling each other an overgrown child. They climb up the hill to hold each other under the sky full of stars, wishing they could make time pause at that very moment. Even though the owner of the account never reveals his face, I am always moved by the words he writes. The day before my wedding, the owner uploads a new post. "This marks the end of our ten-year relationship. From now on, she'll be his wife, and I'll only be his friend. There won't be any more updates to this account. I wish nothing but the best for my best friend and the woman he loves the most." The picture uploaded with this caption is one of my fiancee and me, taken from behind.

My sister had struggled with severe depression for years, and the only thing that seemed to ease her pain was her dog, Toto, who had become her constant companion. But when her illness flared up again, Toto was nowhere to be found. Then, my husband, Lionel Cress's childhood sweetheart posted a picture of Toto on social media. [With her, it feels like you're here with me.] I lost it. I called Lionel in a frenzy, but despite being my sister's psychologist, he was completely indifferent. "Your sister has been sick for so long. How could she suddenly relapse just because Toto's gone for a few days?" When I rushed back home, I found my sister in the bathroom, her wrists cut. Later, Toto's body was discovered outside our building, with Lionel's gift to his childhood sweetheart—a ring—lying next to her. I buried both my sister and Toto, and left behind nothing but a divorce agreement. Lionel went crazy, desperately trying to find me.

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"