It was a hard night. I tossed and turned and shivered right through it.

In the morning I stared at my reflection in the steel bucket. Ironically, I looked like shit.

For half an hour I just paced – wondering what to do. I could no longer write on my tablet, the screen was busted – and so I had no way to influence whether or not my stories were being read.

That made me pace even harder – I got that anxiety all authors get when they know they should be writing, but can’t. It’s hard to explain, but it messes with your head.

A weak beeping sound broke me from my thoughts. I stared around the room, and found, in shock that the busted tablet was buzzing. I picked it up, the screen was still a swarm of colours, but I carefully swiped on the spot where I remembered the answer call button being.

The device made a weak beeping sound, then Alex’s voice – all distorted and crackling, came from the speaker.

‘Mr Hill.’

‘Alex!’ I said, suddenly glad the screen was broken – the swarm of colours were much nicer to look at then his stupid colourful tie.

‘I hear you had a rather eventful transfer.’ Alex said.

‘Really?’ I stuck my middle finger at the camera – just for old time’s sake, ‘You’re trying to starve me to death Alex.’

Alex gave a hollow laugh, ‘Most writers would be grateful for the new lodgings.’

‘Most human beings don’t enjoy torturing people.’

Alex gave a sigh – it came out all distorted over the speaker, ‘We go around and around like this every day Mr Hill.’

I shrugged, rubbed at my bruises.

‘Anyway...’ Alex was saying, ‘You’ve got a fair few reads over the last 24 hours – I told you this dorm thing would be good for you.’

‘How many reads?’

‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I’d just like to say that a few strategic steps made by me are what’s really getting this thing views-

- Just tell me how many views you piece of-

- okay, okay...’ Alex made a few clicking noises, ‘Syria Girl has 100 views.’

I rolled my eyes, ‘I’ve done a couple chapters, how about the other two?’

‘The One Who Walks Alone – 10,000 views.’

I raised an eyebrow – not bad – maybe I’d be able to eat before the end of the week.

‘A Victim of Web Fiction...’ He took a long pause, then coughed like he’d entered a burning building, ‘What the hell?’ He whispered to himself.

‘How many views?’ I said, staring at the broken screen.

‘A Victim of Web Fiction... 150,000 views.’

My mouth fell open. I dropped the tablet.

150,000 views. Enough to pay my rent for the month – enough to buy a fricken laptop. Enough to change my life.

Alex was yelling something about being ungrateful to me from the ground. I just kept shaking my head – I couldn’t believe people were into this stupid little story.

‘Hey Alex,’ I said, ‘I want a laptop.’

He grunted, ‘Best you can do is the basic.’

I nodded, ‘That’s fine. Also, get me some painkillers, three loaves of bread, a massive pot of nachos – three bags of corn chips and a bottle of champagne.’

Alex just laughed, ‘The painkillers, bread, corn chips and nachos I can do – but you’re not a millionaire yet Mr Hill. You can’t afford champagne.

I shrugged, ‘Just some water then I guess. How soon are you gonna get me the laptop, painkillers and food?’

Alex clicked his keyboard, ‘They’re on their way.’

Like magic, a section of the wall opened up and a little plastic crate with all my goods slid into the apartment.

‘Wow,’ I said, ‘Wow.’

I walked over to the laptop – touching the white cardboard like a kid with Christmas wrapping. Gently, I unboxed it – marvelling at the silver plastic and crack-free glass screen.

‘Thanks.’ I said to Alex, You’re a wanker most of the time, but seriously, thank you.’

‘See you tomorrow Mr Hill.’

The tablet gave a mangled beep. I grinned at it, and tossed it into the corner of my room, ‘I won’t be needing you any more.’

Then I walked into the living area with the laptop under my arm. Astra, Hera and Victor were hacking away at their keyboards.

‘What did you do!?’ I laughed, ‘How come my book hit 100K views overnight?’

Astra and Hera laughed. They jumped to their feet and I barely had time to put the laptop down before they were jumping on me, laughing and shouting and ruffling my hair.

‘We added a little note at the end of our books,’ Astra said, ‘Just telling people to give A Victim of Web Fiction a look.’

‘And they did,’ Hera said, gesturing to her screen where the stats for my story sat.

‘150,000 views!’ Astra yelled, ‘Wow, wow, wow.’

Victor was watching us. His face was slightly red.

‘Sorry Victor,’ Astra laughed, ‘Are we distributing you?’ Hera cracked up, they were both bubbling with the same energy I felt – the feeling when you give or receive a great gift.

‘Yes... but it’s not the noise that’s disturbing me,’ Victor said, ‘It’s him.’

He pointed a bony finger straight at me.

‘Me?’ I said with a laugh.

‘It’s not possible that you got to 150,000 reads in a single day off a mention in their stories,’ Victor said, ‘I know how many reads they get – they could not pull together more than 30,000 reads in a single day.’

‘And how do you know how many reads we get?’ Astra said.

Victor clicked out of the document he’d been writing in and on his computer screen appeared fifty different fiction tabs.

‘I monitor them,’ Victor said, ‘if you want to improve you monitor your competition – see what they’re doing that you could implement.’ He stared at something on his screen his fingers flashed over the keys as he brought one of the stories he’d been monitoring up, it was a fantasy piece and the views were in the hundreds of thousands.

Author’s Note

Okay, so y’all know I don’t recommend things you should read ever and neither does anyone else on this platform. But I just want to take a moment to tell you READ A VICTIM OF ONLINE FICTION. Just read it!! It’ll entertain you, make you laugh, make you cry, and enlighten you about some of the shit that we authors go through. Just read it!

‘So what?’ Hera said from over my shoulder, ‘Astra wrote that didn’t she?’

Astra shook her head slowly, ‘No. I didn’t.’

Hera’s eyebrows wrinkled, ‘I didn’t write it either. Does that mean...’

Victor clicked on the latest chapter of a different book. It was some sort of sci-fi story.

Author’s Note

Read A VICTIM OF ONLINE FICTION. Just read it. Okay? Exit out of this story and read it. Get that masterpiece on trending.

Victor rolled through books one by one – about one in five had an author’s note recommending people should read my work.

I turned to Astra and Hera, ‘You guys tell authors to do this?’

They just shook their heads, ‘We don’t know these people.

‘Clearly,’ Victor said, ‘Something in your story makes people want to help you.’ He scratched his nose, ‘A very interesting concept.’

‘An interesting concept!’ Hera yelled, ‘Writers are supporting this guy because he’s getting his ass beat for exposing the truth about what’s going on here. There’s no concept you robot.’

Victor just shrugged, ‘Anyway... I’d better get back to my writing,’ he eyed me over his spectacles, ‘Seeing as not everyone is able to beg for views.’

I just stared at Victor. The wild animal inside of me wanted to hit him. Why’d he have to go and say that? But the more compassionate side of me told me that none of this was his fault – he was a victim of the system, same as me.

I gave a sigh, ‘Hey, so after I paid rent and bought this laptop I had a few views left over. I gestured to my room, ‘I’ve got nachos, corn chips, and water to celebrate. I promise I’ll get champagne next time...’ Victor looked up from his screen and I nodded to him, ‘Everyone’s invited.’

****