Блогер роман перевод на английский

Prologue
The silence in the studio was deafening. Not the creative silence before a shot, but a heavy, ringing, deathly silence. The screen of the powerful gaming computer went dark, reflecting the distorted face of the man sitting in the chair. On the desk, next to the backlit mouse, lay a phone that would no longer receive notifications. His subscribers, millions of them, didn't yet know that their idol, Lex (real name Alexey Korolev), had just completed his final live broadcast. A broadcast after which everything was supposed to change. But he was wrong. The price of that mistake was too high.

Part 1: DIGITAL GOD
Chapter 1
"And here it is, the moment of truth, friends!" Lex's voice rang out like a taut string. "In thirty seconds, we'll either hit the jackpot or be sent into digital oblivion. All the likes are for luck!"
His fingers flew over the keyboard, his gaze glued to the monitor where the virtual battle was unfolding. In the corner of the screen, the number of viewers grew: 10,000, 15,000, 20,000... Comments flew like machine gun fire. He caught every one, tossed in jokes, shouted, laughed. He wasn't just a man behind a computer; he was the conductor of a symphony of bits and pixels, the god of a small universe called his blog.
The broadcast ended in triumph. Victory. The donation income for the evening exceeded the average salary in the city. Lex leaned back in his chair, and the smile slid from his face like a mask. Silence fell over him again. He reached for his phone and opened the gallery. An old, slightly blurry photo: him, young and somehow unfinished, and a girl with blonde hair. Marina. They were sitting by the lake, and he was looking at her, not at the camera. He closed the photo. The past was another country.

Chapter 2
The door to the studio opened without knocking.
“Until five again?” the voice was calm, but there was a hint of fatigue in it.
Marina stood in the doorway. The same girl from the photo, but now her gaze was less carefree.
"I can't just turn off, Marie. The people are waiting."
"The people are waiting for bread and circuses. And you? What are you waiting for?"
He turned back to the monitor, launching the viewer analytics. "I have a contract with a brand for next week. I need to come up with something special. Something to blow up."
"Blow up what? Myself? Our lives? We live like we're in an aquarium, Alexey. Every dinner, every walk, is content. I'm tired."
It was an old, tired argument. Lex couldn't hear the words anymore; he only saw numbers. Reach. Engagement. Subscriber growth. It was his drug, his breath.
The next day, he announced a new project: "Reality Week." Seven days, unfiltered, unscripted, a live broadcast of his life, 24/7. The idea was risky, crazy, and therefore brilliant. The response from subscribers exceeded all expectations. They were hungry for the "real."
Marina looked at him with horror. "You're crazy. This is our private life."
"Privacy is an illusion, Marie. Today, the only value is in what you bring to public view."

Part 2: CRACKS IN THE SCREEN
Chapter 3
The first few days of "Reality Week" were magical. Viewers watched in awe as Lex drank coffee, went shopping, and argued with Marina over his scattered socks. Comments were rife: "Wow, he's so real!", "Marina, we're with you!", "Guys, don't fight!"
But gradually the tension began to mount. The camera, which was always on, became a warden. Lex caught himself smiling not because he was happy, but because "he needed to provide positive content." Marina walked out of the frame, her face growing increasingly gloomy.
One evening, after a particularly difficult conversation overheard by thousands of viewers, a new user appeared in the comments. Nickname: Shadow. His messages were unlike the others.
Shadow: An interesting role. But who are you without an audience, Alexey?
Lex, accustomed to hate, ignored it. But the messages from Shadow kept coming.
Shadow: Do you remember what you dreamed about when you were 17? Was it really about this?
Shadow: She looks at you like she's seeing you for the last time. Do you notice that?
They always arrived at the most vulnerable moments and struck right on target. For the first time, Lex felt a chill of fear. Someone was watching him not as a distraction, but as an object of research.

Chapter 4
On the fifth day of the project, Lex found an envelope in his mailbox. No stamp, no return address. Inside was an old photograph. He and Marina at that very lake. The same one he had saved on his phone. But this time, written on the back in black ink, was: "Nothing lasts forever."
His pixelated world began to crack. He searched the entire studio in a panic, checking for hidden cameras. Nothing. He tried to talk to Marina, but the words stuck in his throat. How could he admit he was afraid? God couldn't be afraid.
He maintained a bravado on air. "Someone's making a joke, guys! Think they can scare me? I'm Lex!" But his laugh sounded fake. Shadow immediately commented, "Fear smells the same through the screen."

Part 3: FACE TO FACE
Chapter 5
Marina left. Quietly, packing her things, while he slept after the night's stream. She left a note: "I can't be part of your show. I love the real Alexey. Find him. Goodbye."
Lex was left alone in his vast, tech-heavy apartment. The cameras were still rolling. Thousands of people watched his grief, his tears, his despair. Some sympathized, others demanded "new content," and still others gloated. It was his most brutal and most popular show.
And then Shadow messaged him privately. Just one sentence: "Want to know the truth? Come. Tomorrow. 6:00 PM. Sadovaya Street, 15. Apartment 12. Just one. No cameras."
The address was in their old, abandoned neighborhood, where they once lived with Marina.

Chapter 6
He turned off all the cameras. For the first time in years, his life wasn't being broadcast live. He walked down the dark stairs of the old house, his heart pounding in his throat.
The door to apartment 12 was ajar. He walked in. In the empty room, a laptop sat on a box. The familiar interface of his streams was on the screen. In front of the laptop lay a stack of printouts: his childhood diaries, his correspondence with Marina, bank statements, medical records. Someone had been collecting information about him for years.
An incoming call indicator flashed on the laptop screen. Lex pressed "Accept."
It was him on the other end. An exact copy of him, only with cold, empty eyes. The same voice, but without a single emotion.
"Hello, Alexey. Or Lex? Whichever you prefer?"
"...Who are you?"
"I am you. The one you could have become if you hadn't chosen the path of lies. I am your forgotten past. Your unfulfilled dreams. Your conscience, if you will."
It was his own voice, superimposed on the quiet, even timbre of the stranger. A hologram? A deep fake?
"Why did you do all this?"
"To show you the price of your fame. You sold your life, Alexey, for likes and donations. You lost Marina. You lost yourself. I merely accelerated the process. I am your most devoted fan and your strictest judge."
And then Lex saw another piece of paper on his desk. A printout of an email. From his manager to a psychologist. The email talked about "controlled stress" to "promote a new viral hit." His manager, someone he trusted, had hired a manipulator to create the illusion of persecution. The Shadow was part of the show. Part of his most grandiose and most cynical show.

Chapter 7
Lex stood in the middle of the empty room, crushed by the weight of the truth. His life, his love, his fear—all were just content. He wasn't a god, but a puppet in the hands of a more cunning puppeteer.
He returned home. He turned on the camera. His face on the screen was gray and haggard. Thousands of viewers were watching him. They were waiting for the denouement.
He looked into the camera and smiled. It wasn't Lex the blogger's smile. It was Alexey's bitter, farewell smile.
"Hello everyone. This is my last broadcast."
He told me everything. About "The Shadow," about the manager, about Marina. About how he traded reality for a digital mirage. He spoke without pathos, without show, simply and honestly.
"Don't repeat my mistake. Live. For real."
He reached out to the camera and the screen went black.

Epilogue
Six months passed. A man sat at a table in a small caf; on the outskirts of town. He drank coffee and looked out the window. There was an unusual silence in his eyes. The phone on the table was an old push-button phone.
A girl with blond hair came up to his table and sat down opposite him.
“I watched your last video,” Marina said quietly.
Alexey (no longer Lex) nodded.
"Did you find him? That guy from the lake?"
“I’m trying,” he smiled, and this time the smile was real.
At that moment, an ad for a new young blogger flashed on the TV screen in the corner of the cafe. Bright, flashy, with crazy special effects, he shouted into the camera, promising his followers "the most incredible show on Earth."
Alexey and Marina weren't looking at the screen. They were looking at each other. It was raining outside, and this was the most beautiful graphics in the world.