Social Viewer Novels & Stories

The staff member eagerly stepped aside and said to the camera, "Dear viewers, Sebastian is about to treat someone's injuries. Whether he has medical skills or not, please feel free to vote in the polling area below!" Soon, voting options appeared in the livestream—Yes, Maybe, and No. Not even half a minute later, the voting results were announced. "Alright, we've got the results here. 96.86% of our viewers think he can't do it, and 3.14% believe he can. Now, let's watch and see." The excited staff member shouted into the camera. The livestream's viewers began intense discussions. "Who voted 'can'? Are you Sebastian's supporters?"

I watch him collect himself without moving a muscle. “We haven’t moved past that?” “Of course not. We can’t even move past it. So tell me.” He sighs. “I saw it on the screen when I entered. I didn’t know it before.” I snort, “I can smell a big pile of crap from afar, and right now, crap is all I smell. And don’t try to deny it. Because my viewers recognised you, they won’t recognize someone who hasn’t gone live before.” The two of us go silent for a while, I watch as he chews on his lip before sighing.

The screen was lit up with comments—rows of hearts, emojis, and rapid-fire reactions flooding in too fast to read properly. I focused harder. LIVE. 10, 000 VIEWERS.

"They bought Shares. Every person on that street owns a 'micro-stake' in our lives. They aren't cheering for our freedom. They’re cheering for the Content." ​Nora walked to the center of the room, where a massive holographic display had been installed. It showed a live-map of the world. Across every continent, glowing gold dots represented "Active Viewers." ​"We didn't escape the simulation, did we, Papa?" Nora asked, looking at Kael.

I would’ve given anything to see Viola’s reaction at that exact moment. The reporter looked completely overwhelmed, clearly losing her grip on the broadcast. She glanced to the side. “Danny? The video? Can we play it?” A faint response came from off-camera, and she nodded. “Alright, Mr. Moretti.” Turning back to the audience, she added, “We’re about to show the alleged evidence our guest has provided. Our team hasn’t had time to review it, so viewer discretion is advised.”

I was sobbing. He held up his phone, looking a little sheepish. "I've been livestreaming." I whipped my head around. On his screen, the viewer count was climbing past a million. My vision went black, and I nearly fainted on the spot.

The room did not react the way Hale expected. That was the first crack. She stood there, perfectly composed on the outside, hands folded, posture immaculate, the kind of stillness that had once commanded entire buildings into obedience. But the live feed on the wall changed the temperature instantly. The air shifted. Not dramatic. Subtle. Like a lie realizing it had been overheard. The viewer count kept climbing. Ten million. Twenty. Then the numbers stopped updating, replaced by a symbol that meant the system had decided scale no longer mattered.

The single camera, operated by a loyalist technician, framed him against the vast, dark city—a lone figure against the world. There was no introduction. The signal simply flared to life on screens across the city, shared through encrypted links and bootlegged streams. In apartments, in bars with blacked-out windows, in the makeshift barracks of his supporters, people watched. They saw his face, and they saw the fire in his eyes.

I immediately return to my original position. I look forward with empty eyes because I am thinking about who will have the heart to record all my problems and put them into the application without my permission. "There's a lot, huh?" I asked, “No, only a few that I know of. But if you appear in the video, the account owner will immediately be attacked by viewers. A live video that soon disappeared into the earth," explained the man again, "You are the person watchers have been waiting for," he continued. "What videos do you know about me so far?" I asks again to the man who turns out to be able to make the atmosphere in the car less awkward.

“Blindfold on then. Same rules. You don’t cum till I say.” She stripped fast, tits bouncing as she got on the bed. I tied the black blindfold tight around her eyes again. She looked so fucking hot like that; naked, legs spread, pussy already shiny and wet. I set the cameras up quickly while she waited, blind and trusting while I hit the “Go Live” button on the laptop. Same anonymous account. The viewers count skyrocketed right away. Over two thousand in the first minute. The Super Tipper from last night was already in chat.