Page 39 of Orc Me Out


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I refresh the page. Numbers jump again.

Twenty-nine comments.

Sixty-two shares.

One hundred forty-seven likes.

Holy shit.

The comments section fills faster than I can read individual responses:

"OMG this is the wholesome content I needed today"

"Accidentally befriending your orc neighbor is peak 2024 energy"

"The foam incident has me DYING. Poor guy just wanted to be polite!"

"More cross-cultural neighbor stories please"

"This is why I love living in diverse cities. Everyone's got something to teach if you're willing to listen"

"Hungarian love letters at dawn actually sounds kind of romantic?"

"STONE WARMS SLOW is now my new life motto"

"Part 2?? I need updates on this friendship"

By evening, the numbers have exploded beyond anything my blog has ever generated. Three hundred comments. Eight hundred shares. Fourteen hundred likes and climbing.

My phone rings. Unknown number.

"Maya Ruiz? This is Jennifer Reid from BuzzFeed Community. We'd love to feature your neighbor story in our wholesome content roundup. Would you be interested in expanding it into a longer piece?"

I hang up, staring at the screen where notifications continue accumulating like digital snowfall.

What have I done?

The excitement feels nauseating now. Viral content means exposure, opportunity, potential career advancement. Everything a freelance writer supposedly wants.

But it also means Ursak's private moments, his vulnerability, his trust, broadcast to thousands of strangers who see entertainment where I intended affection.

Hungarian love letters.

Foam explosion.

Seven-foot orc in reading glasses.

Details that felt endearing when shared between friends now feel invasive when consumed by internet strangers hunting for viral content and feel-good distraction.

My laptop screen blurs. I close the browser window, but notifications keep chiming from my phone like accusatory bells.

Eight hundred shares.

One thousand likes.

Trending in Local Communities.

I need air. I need perspective. I need to explain to someone who trusts me that I accidentally turned his private life into public entertainment.