After being reborn, I slapped the
vicious woman who plagiarized me.
Chapter 1
After getting canceled online for plagiarism, I
announced I was quitting writing, right there
in front of everyone.
My boyfriend, who was busy acting all
offended on my behalf, just froze.
“What are you doing? You know we’ve got
bills to pay!”
His little darling, the so–called “victim” of the
plagiarism, panicked too.
“Vi, you don’t have to punish yourself like this;
I’m willing to give you another chance.”
I stared out at the flashing cameras, not
showing a thing.
Last time around, those two worked together,
humiliating me while stealing my work.
In the end, everything I wrote made Brittany
Rogers, his girl, a literary superstar.
This time, I deleted my author profile; six
years down the drain.
I’m done living in that dump; time to go home
and cash in.
And Brittany? Good luck finishing the rest of
that book.
- 1.
“Ms. Lewis, you keep saying you have proof
you didn’t plagiarize, so where is it?”
“As a former fan, I don’t want to believe you’d
do something like this; did you even write
your old stuff?”
All those mics shoved in my face caught me
off guard, and my heart went wild.
I’d been given a do–over, back to the press
conference I held to prove my innocence.
Last time, my boyfriend’s precious Brittany
swiped my novel, based on my own crush.
The book shot up the charts on launch day
and became a total bestseller.
A few viral tweets later, and everyone was
crying over it.
I wanted to post my drafts as proof.
But someone wiped my files clean on the day
of the conference; gone without a trace.
Then came the online harassment, all the hate
mail, the creepy stuff sent to my house.
I kept writing, but some crazy fan found me
and stabbed me to death.
Now, after I paused for a second, my
boyfriend of three years, Jake, started
ranting.
“Vi, if you say Brittany’s lying, then prove it;
don’t just make stuff up!” he shouted.
He glared at me, but I saw a flash of
something else in his eyes.
<
Yeah, he knew what was in my files, alright.
He wanted to ruin my reputation so that
Brittany could be the new literary it–girl.
I looked down, grabbed my laptop, and went
to the projector.
Turned it on.
Then, in front of everyone, I deleted my
writing profile.
Jake and Brittany both shot to their feet.
“That’s it, everyone,” I said, my voice icy. “I’ve
been falsely accused, and the evidence has
been destroyed.
“This profile is done, and so am I; I’m done
with the writing world for good!”
