The Telegram Stranger Who Called Me Sunshine

Sometimes, the internet hands you stories that leave more than you expect. My “Elon Musk Odyssey” is full of them, but this one’s softer – and it even inspired a little melody.

It started, as it often does, through a middleman on Telegram who lured me to a guy claiming to be Elon Musk. I was shy; he was one of my first “Elons.” The usual questions came: where I’m from, if I’m married, what I do for work. I answered honestly. Why not? It’s not top-secret info.

Then came the dreaded investment pitch. I shut it down fast – I can’t afford that stuff. And, miracle of miracles, he accepted it! He kept writing, like it was no big deal. That was new.

We chatted, I sent a blurry photo of myself, and he called me beautiful. I brushed it off – I’m just a regular woman, not a model! Still, things got sweeter. I shared piano pieces I’d composed, and he said he was catching feelings. My heart did a little flip.

Then, the shock: a video call, out of nowhere! I was so startled I shoved my phone under a couch cushion. Who does that? But we kept talking, and eventually, I worked up the nerve. I answered a video call.

It wasn’t Elon Musk. Of course not. A friendly guy looked back at me, and I was so nervous I hung up right away. He stayed calm, kept writing, called me pretty again. I laughed – I’m no Claudia Schiffer! His messages were like little gifts. Mornings, still groggy with my first coffee, I’d read, “Good morning, my sunshine. You brighten my thoughts.” Come on, who doesn’t melt a little at that?

We talked about life in Germany versus the US, normal stuff. I was so touched that I wrote a small melody for him – just for myself, but inspired by those moments. But after a week, it fizzled out. From January 18 to 27, 2025, he was there. Then, his last message: I should install Grok. I asked, “Why?” but installed it anyway – yup, I actually got Grok, curious as I am. Nothing more from him, though.

I blocked him – not out of anger, but because he never said who he really was. 

Still, it’s more than just a memory. 

That little melody I wrote for him hums in my head sometimes. 

It wasn’t real, but it sparked something creative in me. 

And unlike the other Elon stories – which ranged from annoying to brutally destructive – this was the only one that felt beautiful. 

That’s worth something, right?