It started out as a joke between friends. I never expected my Vines to go viral, so when they did I was shocked at first, but ultimately thrilled. Naturally, I made more.
The views just kept skyrocketing. The clips were put together for youtube, and a few people even stopped him on the street for a selfie.
But they never wanted a selfie with me.
*I'm* the Vine guy, not him. He didn't come up with the idea. I could have chosen anyone, but I chose him because we were good friends. *I'm* the voice, *I'm* the creator. Not *him*.
But no one cared.
For a while, I was okay with him basking in my limelight. One day I asked him if he could do a Vine of me. He said okay, but it didn't get nearly the number of views.
And the comments were even worse.
"This guy's just a copycat."
"lol go home fagit"
I obsessed over it. The Vines were everything to me. And over time, he drew away from me. His new popularity got him into all the greatest parties, all the hottest girls, *everything*.
And what did I get in return? *Nothing*.
I couldn't take being the creator of my own exile any longer. I hadn't made any new Vines in weeks, so I asked him to meet me at my place to go over some new ideas.
He was all for it, hoping it would just increase his status even further.
That night, while my parents were out to dinner, we went into the basement with some snacks to brainstorm. Little shit never had any good ideas, but I had to placate him now.
Just long enough for the drugged Mountain Dew to kick in.
When he came to, I had already duct taped him to his chair. Woozy, he looked around, moaning through the gag while I made sure the camera on my iPhone was set to the ideal angle.
I had to get the lighting *perfect*.
He was in tears. Despite the melodrama of it all, I pushed through. It was time for my last Vine.
I held the gun to his head as a single tear rolled down my cheek before I pulled the trigger.
As the blood spattered my face, I watched the life fade from his eyes.