The internet calls it a collapse.
But they never ask what made the floor give way.
I’m Billy Coull, and I’m writing this for anyone who found my name under a headline—but never got to read the story written by me.
What the World Saw
Let’s start with the obvious:
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A botched immersive event in Glasgow
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Disappointed families
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Refunds processed within hours
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Viral outrage
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Purple hats
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Crying kids
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Memes
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Global news coverage
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My name—everywhere
They called it the AI Willy Wonka disaster.
And yes, the event failed.
But that wasn’t the collapse.
That was the detonation.
The Real Collapse
The real collapse came after:
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When I saw my name trending for all the wrong reasons
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When I read comments calling me a predator, a fraud, a monster
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When the press linked the event to a completely separate personal legal case
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When I realised that no one would ever Google me without seeing fire
And Then the Sentence
Weeks after the Glasgow fallout, I pleaded guilty to an offence under the Domestic Abuse (Scotland) Act.
You can read the full story in My Truth, but here’s the truth in brief:
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I sent explicit messages to someone I had loved
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The court cited the sexual nature of the content
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I received a sentence of community payback, supervision, and placement on the Sex Offenders Register
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I accepted all of it. No excuses. No spin.
But the world fused two stories:
One about an event.
One about a sentence.
And it created a myth I didn’t recognise—because it wasn’t entirely true.
What the Truth Actually Looks Like
It looks like a broken man attending therapy.
It looks like hours of community service, completed without complaint.
It looks like diary entries written at 3 a.m. with shaking hands.
It looks like showing up—not hiding.
Why I’m Still Writing
Because if I don’t write this, Google will keep telling people who I was without ever asking who I am.
This is the truth about my Glasgow collapse:
It hurt.
It was public.
It wasn’t all deserved.
But I’m not running from any of it.