The Virus No One Talks About

Episode One is out.

It’s real.

It’s online.

It exists in the world now.

And when the credits rolled… my name appeared a lot.

”Written.

Directed.

Edited.

Music & Sound Design.

Starring.”

On paper, it looks like I did everything.And in many ways, I carried most of it.

Or at least, that’s how it felt in the moment.

But that’s exactly the moment where something dangerous can begin.

There’s a virus that hits artists the second they feel momentum. Not fame. Not money. Not even success. Just momentum. That first moment where something you built actually moves.

I call it the fame virus.

It doesn’t show up loudly.

It whispers.

“You did this alone.”

“You don’t need anyone.”

“You’re different.”

“Protect your crown.”

And if you’re not careful, you start believing it. Especially when you’ve been fighting alone for months. Especially when you’ve been doubted. Especially when you had to prove yourself the hard way.

Independence is powerful. I believe in it. I preach it. I live it.

But independence is not isolation.

There’s a difference.

Yes, I wrote the script.

Yes, I edited the scenes.

Yes, I built the structure, designed the tone, fought through the render crashes, fixed the lighting, rebuilt sequences that didn’t work. Removed an entire “days of shooting.” in the final cut to make it concise enough and fit the Mini TV Series format.

But without SONJA behind the lens, the atmosphere wouldn’t breathe the way it does. The framing wouldn’t feel intentional. The visual identity wouldn’t hit the same.

Without friends who watched early cuts and said, “This part feels rushed,” or “Stay in that moment longer,” the pacing wouldn’t have matured.

Without people encouraging me when this was just an idea with no audience, there would be no Episode One.

We romanticize the lone genius.

But the truth is, even the “solo” artist stands on invisible shoulders.

And here’s the real danger…

The earlier you taste growth, the more tempting it becomes to forget that.

I’ve seen it happen.

And I’ve felt it try to happen to me.

Someone gets their first recognition.

Their first press mention.

Their first spike in followers.

And suddenly they start acting like they arrived.

They forget the energy they had before the validation.

They forget the humility.

They forget the hunger.

They lose the underdog spirit.

I call that the fame virus because it spreads fast and kills quietly.

It kills curiosity.

It kills collaboration.

It kills gratitude.

And the cruel irony?

The very thing that made people connect with you in the first place was who you were before the ego.

People don’t attach to perfection.

They attach to authenticity.

They attach to the version of you that was building in silence, not performing superiority in public.

I never want to become someone who confuses momentum with arrival.

Episode One is not a throne.

It’s a step.

It’s proof of discipline.

It’s proof of resilience.

It’s proof that ideas can become real if you bleed for them long enough.

But it is not the finish line.

And it is definitely not something I did in a vacuum.

There’s something powerful about building something yourself. But there’s something even more powerful about remembering who stood near you while you did.

This industry can be brutal. It can be competitive. It can reward ego. It can amplify noise.

But long-term respect? That’s built on character.

Not credits.

Not follower counts.

Not headlines.

Character.

The ability to stay grounded while your work levels up.

The ability to give credit where it’s due.

The ability to say, “Yes, I worked hard. And yes, I had help.”

Because help doesn’t make you weaker. It makes you human.

I’m proud of what we built.

I’m proud of the independence.

But I’m even more proud that I still recognize the hands that steadied the camera, the voices that gave feedback, the people who believed when this was just pixels and possibility.

If you’re at the beginning of your journey and you feel momentum for the first time, protect yourself.

Not from the industry.

From the virus.

Stay hungry. Stay dynamite. Stay teachable. Stay collaborative.

And remember — the reason people care about you isn’t because you act untouchable.

It’s because you’re real.

And if I ever forget that…

I hope someone reminds me.

— Lyon