Chapter 2 - The Viral Storm
Sunday evening.
My neck was bandaged, treated with prescription burn cream from an urgent care clinic on the edge of town.
I sat in the quiet, dim living room of my rented cabin. The only light came from the glow of my laptop screen.
My phone buzzled on the wooden coffee table.
It had been buzzing non-stop for three hours.
I picked it up. The lock screen was an absolute waterfall of notifications.
Texts from high school acquaintances I hadn't spoken to in a decade. Missed calls from distant relatives. Direct messages on Instagram from strangers calling me "crazy" and "entitled."
I opened TikTok.
I didn't even have to search for it.
It was the third video on my For You Page.
Caleb’s account.
He had edited it perfectly, of course. He cut out the part where Beatrice berated me for not helping pay for her extravagant lifestyle. He cut out the part where I quietly explained I was barely making rent while working on a massive project.
He only left the part where Beatrice screamed, "You selfish trash!" and poured the coffee.
Then, it cut to my shocked, dripping face.
Then to Maya, laughing, pointing her perfectly manicured finger at me.
The caption read: When the entitled, jobless sister finally gets a reality check from Mom. 😂☕️ #FamilyDrama #RealityCheck #ToxicSibling
It already had 1.2 million views.
The comments were a dumpster fire of internet toxicity.
“Omg she just sat there like a wet rat! 💀”
“Props to the mom, tough love is necessary when you have a deadbeat kid.”
“Why is she dressed like she just rolled out of a dumpster at a luxury resort anyway?”
I scrolled through them with an eerie sense of detachment.
My brother had monetized my physical assault.
My mother had orchestrated it.
My sister was sharing it to her 200k followers on Instagram, adding little crying-laughing emojis and a poll asking, "Did she deserve it? Yes/No."
Eighty percent voted Yes.
I set the phone down.
My lawyer, David, called right at that moment.
"Elara," he said, his voice calm, professional, and slightly concerned. "I'm finalizing the SEC filings and the press release. Everything goes live at 8:00 AM EST tomorrow. Are you ready?"
"I'm ready," I said softly.
"I... also saw a video online," David added hesitantly. "Someone at the firm forwarded it to me. Is that you?"
"It is."
"Elara, that's assault. We can have our litigation team draft a cease and desist, or contact the authorities—"
"No," I interrupted him. "Let it stay up. Let it get as many views as possible."
"Are you sure? It's pretty damaging."
"Not to me, David," I whispered, staring out the window into the dark woods. "By tomorrow, it's going to be the most damaging video they've ever posted. But not to me."
"Understood," he said. "Get some sleep, Elara. Tomorrow, the world knows your name."
I hung up.
I didn't sleep. I just sat there, feeling the throbbing burn on my neck, watching the view count on Caleb's video climb.
Two million.
Two and a half million.
Three million.
They were celebrating in their group chat. I could see the notifications popping up on my iPad, which was still logged into the family iCloud.
Caleb: 3M VIEWS! My engagement is up 4000%!!
Maya: Dad’s side of the family is freaking out lol. Everyone is blocking her.
Beatrice: She brought it on herself. Maybe now she'll get a real job instead of playing on her computer all day.
I closed the laptop.
May you like
Tick tock.
Monday was almost here.
