Influencing Goes Remote. Even the Creators Aren’t Showing Up Anymore.
The itinerary is ambitious. The commute has improved.
AI-generated editorial illustration of the fictional creator.
Nina had chosen the hotel, planned three outfits and found the balcony she wanted when the airline asked for another $46 to put her beside a window.
She left the checkout open.
In another tab, a woman with approximately her audience was stepping out of an overwater villa. The woman had been skiing that morning. Nina followed a link to the agency representing her and found a page offering several versions of the same person.
She could choose the voice. The background was included.
“I don't mind competition,” Nina said. “But I was still paying to get there.”
For the previous year, Nina had been trying to make travel content cover the cost of traveling. She accepted hotel discounts, negotiated breakfast and learned to fit six days of outfits into a bag the airline regarded as suitable for a document. Once, she bought an extra night because the weather had ruined the afternoon she needed to look carefree.
The next day was also overcast. She sat beneath a covered terrace, answering emails about whether she had anything sunnier.
Her manager, Ellis, had described the trip as a useful investment in the relationship. The hotel later asked whether she could do the same thing again, with a stronger opening.
She had assumed this involved going back.
The upgrade
Ellis suggested a test. Nina supplied photographs of herself and spent an afternoon somewhere she had not booked.
The first attempts needed work. Her face changed between images. The pool acquired a second staircase. In one video, the suitcase was a little larger when she put it down than when she picked it up.
She kept the best picture and worked outward. By six, she had a consistent balcony, a plausible breakfast and seven seconds of herself turning toward the sea. She watched the clip at her kitchen table while the washing machine finished.
Ellis approved it, then asked for an arrival post. The trip needed a beginning.
Nina added an airport lounge. She gave herself a window seat.
By the end of the week, she had committed $427 a month to image, video, voice and editing subscriptions, before extra credits. She had intended to keep one membership. One service handled her face well; another did better with movement. A third offered the voice she preferred to the one she had recorded herself.
Her accountant asked whether the travel budget was coming down.
“Yes,” she said. “Software is up.”
She had also bought priority processing. Her first sunset had spent too long in a queue.
A little less perfect
Not traveling removed a great deal of inconvenience. It then became necessary to put some back.
On a real trip, Nina had woken early to photograph the pool before other guests appeared. At home, she spent forty minutes deciding how many guests the picture needed.
An empty pool looked suspicious. A busy one looked available to people other than her. She settled on a blurred man at the far end, apparently unaware that he had been included for authenticity.
Ellis liked the result. He wondered whether it could feel a little less produced.
Nina put a damp towel on the wrong chair. She adjusted the crop so that one corner of the umbrella was missing. Her shoulder became slightly pink. The revised image looked as though she had handed her phone to someone and said, “Just a quick one.”
Getting that version took most of the afternoon.
She captioned it “Forgot what day it is.” Her billing reminder arrived immediately afterward.
In the comments, a follower said she could almost feel the breeze. Another asked how she found places that still felt untouched.
“Just getting a little off the beaten path,” Nina replied.
A real person, available on request
On Wednesday, a luggage brand asked for a casual video. It wanted Nina arriving in her room, opening her case and mentioning that she took it everywhere.
Ellis called it UGC, or user-generated content. The brief specified that it should look like something she had made without a brief.
There was a suggested first sentence, a required hand movement and a note about when she should appear to remember the discount code.
The suitcase was still in Nina's hall. She photographed it against a plain wall and returned to the kitchen. The digital version had reached its room before she had put the real one away.
The brand felt her first performance was too enthusiastic. The second needed more energy. It chose the third, subject to using the opening from the first and the expression from the second.
“Much more you,” the account manager wrote.
Ellis added an option to Nina's rate card: Original creator likeness. No on-site requirement.
He had previously needed to ask whether she was free to travel. Now he asked whether she had enough credits to turn her head.
Nina tried to post a photograph of her actual breakfast. Ellis asked her to hold it. Her kitchen tiles were inconsistent with the villa.
She saved it for her return.
Arrivals and departures
A photographer she knew still went to the places in his pictures. He proposed sharing costs on a trip the following month. He could drive, he said, if she helped with fuel.
She liked working with him. He noticed things she missed. He was also offering to spend two days transporting a camera to a place she could have ready before lunch.
Nina sent him the villa project instead.
He studied the images and asked which side of the building her room was on.
“Version nine.”
He found that the view in the glass door belonged to a different balcony. Nina hired him to help correct it. His first remote assignment was to make sure she appeared to be in the place she was pretending to be in.
She put the extra credits under accommodation.
The work had become easier to schedule and harder to finish. There was no longer a last day at the hotel. A better light was always available. A different dress could still be tried. The breakfast could be improved without asking anyone to reopen the kitchen.
Ellis suggested a winter weekend between the island campaigns. Nina said that seemed a lot to fit in.
“We don't have to pack,” he said.
She opened another project.
By Friday, she had missed lunch while working on lunch. The water needed changing, the wine glass needed fixing and a sponsor wanted its product more visible in a picture about doing nothing.
The savings were real enough. So were the new invoices. She upgraded two plans to make room for a spontaneous getaway.
Time to disconnect
A friend asked whether Nina was enjoying herself.
She considered the question. She liked the images. The brand was happy. She had not been charged for an overweight bag, stood beside a shuttered beach club or asked a stranger to take one more photograph after he had clearly finished helping.
She was also looking at the same wall she had been looking at on Monday.
“It's been a lot,” she said.
Ellis suggested making something about that. Her audience responded to honesty.
They settled on a quiet weekend: bare feet, no makeup, a book she was not required to identify. Nina wanted the photographs to be particularly natural. That took longer.
At dusk, she approved a picture of herself with her phone facedown beside a cup of tea. The caption said she was making space to be present.
A follower wrote, “You look like you really needed this.”
Nina agreed. She answered three questions about the room and sent Ellis the revised files. He wanted two more options before Monday.
The airline emailed to ask whether she still intended to complete her booking. She closed the message. Her next month of travel was already set to renew automatically.
At 11:42, a notification on her screen asked whether she was still there.
Nina clicked Yes.
Editor's note: Nina, Ellis, the other characters, brands, dialogue, prices and events are invented satire. The technical backdrop is real: Runway documents reference-based image creation and credit-based creative subscriptions; HeyGen markets AI-presenter UGC-style videos. These are vendor descriptions, not evidence of an industry-wide retreat from travel. The story's invoices and behavior are not attributed to any real creator or provider.
The world, in your inbox
One email a week. Unsubscribe anytime.
More in Tech
I Went Offline for a Week. My Content Team Says It Was Transformative.
— My week without screens took eleven days to prepare. Tess, my producer, wanted to get the third morning right.
The New Status Symbol Is a Phone That Opens Wider Than Your Worldview
— Dominic has brought his new phone to lunch. Before he can demonstrate what has changed, my water glass needs to move.
I Let AI Plan My Vacation. It Asked Whether I Really Needed to Attend.
— I wanted a week by the sea with the stress taken out. The assistant had a few questions about the things I actually enjoy.

Discussion
Loading comments…