[ WP ] You write stories on r/WritingPrompts on a daily basis , after having written another prompt you go to sleep , when you wake up your house is surrounded by media .

`` Not again,'' I cringed as the seemingly neglected word prompt exploded when I hit the refresh key. I had spent hours, precious hours crafting my masterpiece and for what? To get second comment? I wanted to throw my phone at the wall. Hemingway himself could n't contend with this curse. Everyone knows the top comment is like a piss-laden sponge; it soaks up all the gold. 
 
 I submitted it anyway. Why not, I'd worked hard on it. It was n't like I was trying to poach upvotes or seduce subscribers, at least not too much. I wanted people to marvel over my work. I wanted to feel their excitement as I read their comments. I laid my phone on the nightstand and plopped my head down on the pillow. 
 
 One more time. I needed to be sure. I snapped open the app. Still nothing. I turned off the screen and rolled over. 
 
 **** 
 
 Morning came early. I reached over, scratching my hand around my nightstand. Where was it? I pried an eye open. No phone. A rush of panic surged and I plunged my arm beside the bed. That's when I heard it. The sweet, addicting buzz of silent mode and an awaiting message. 
 
 And then another... 
 
 And then another... 
 
 `` What the...'', I located the phone before it walked its way under my bed. The vibrations were coming almost simultaneously. The phone was practically having a seizure in my hand. I slid my finger across and the screen erupted in a continuous line of blue titled comments. I scrolled and I scrolled and I scrolled. There were hundreds, no, thousands! 
 
 I jumped as a knock banged at my door. I scanned the room and could see shadows racing across my closed window blinds. Red lights, flashing pops. Something was definitely going on out there. 
 
 The knock sounded again, `` Hello'' the muffled voice said, `` We'd like to speak to you about your writing.'' 
 
 My writing? This had to be a joke. No one could possibly want to talk about my writing. Even my own family treated it as if I had a disease. They never mentioned it and when I brought it up, they squirmed in their seats. 
 
 `` Just a minute,'' I said as the pounding continued. I threw on some pants and tried to brush through my mop of a head. I grasped the handle and the door almost crushed me. Several people fell over the threshold. Fuzzy microphones and white lights flooded in. Others stepped over those that had fallen and clamored to get to me. 
 
 `` I'm with USA Today,'' one woman blurted out, shoving her microphone in my face, `` we're so excited that you've decided to give us the first exclusive interview.'' 
 
 `` Interview?'' I was stunned. The messages, the media. This was my big break. My chest swelled with pride. 
 
 `` Tell us about your latest r/WritingPrompt sensation!'' another called out through the din. I grabbed the microphone. Everyone would know my name. 
 
 `` I'm MrGoodread and if I wrote it, you can bet it's a good read!'' 
 
 The crowd fell silent. The cameras stopped. The reporters faces deflated. A lone cricket hummed away in the front yard. 
 
 `` MrGoodread?'' 
 
 `` Yes,'' I said with a huge smile. 
 
 `` We were looking for Luna_Lovewell.'' 
 
 **** 
 
 Shout out to u/Luna_Lovewell. Love your work Luna! 
 
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