The original copyright dispute tackles the question of the film's legitimacy because in documents defending against the lawsuit, Relativity cites the "fair use" doctrine, which allows the use of copyrighted material without permission for a limited number of purposes, such as news reporting and commentary. I was like, 'This would make a great film. Although they were complete strangers, he quickly fell for her and found himself opening up to her in ways he hadn't with other women, he told "20/20." As part of their virtual courtship, Megan, who was also a talented musician, would write songs for Schulman -- often singing them as duets with her brother and mother, Angela -- and post them on Facebook. After a 1,300 mile journey from Vail, they arrived at the house. The story began in 2007, when Schulman, then 24, heard from an 8-year-old girl named Abby via MySpace. Scott scolded the filmmakers for exploiting Wesselman for their documentary -- an accusation which they and Wesselman, deny. Schulman sent Abby more of his photographs to paint and with her mother Angela's blessing, the two began corresponding online.

I think... these really hip guys from New York, that they found someone who lives in the heartland who has an extremely rough life, who is using this as their means of escape...and they toyed with it." Wesselman was a four-year varsity libero for the Hornettes. "This woman is exceptional," he said.

Matthew McConaughey grills Dr. Fauci in interview on COVID-19Ex-cop's video captures crowd's horror during Floyd arrestSouth Dakota's Noem to build security fence around residenceCatfish's Nev Schulman thought he was romancing the sister of an 8-year-old.Catfish's Nev Schulman thought he was romancing the sister of an 8-year-old.

Like Schulman, she was a photographer and he was intrigued by the photos of herself which she posted online.

If nothing else, don't you want to get -- find out what's real here?

"I was kind of floored," he remembered. To bring these personas to life, Angela assumed all of their identities. Still, the Abby and Megan characters won over real-life admirer Nev Schulman through flattery, Express Mail paintings created in homage of Schulman’s ballerina still photos, and Wesselman’s own strategically chosen/stolen pictures. Nev turned out to be the kindest of all -- and he became the inspiration for another Wesselman alter-ego: Megan. I just think I have the ability to create a lot of illusions for people." Last year, Threshold Media filed a copyright infringement lawsuit against "Catfish's" producers and distributor, Relativity Media, arguing that filmmakers used the song "All Downhill From Here" by singer-songwriter Amy Kuney -- who is signed to Threshold-owned Spin Move Records -- without permission. Schulman was soon deluged with packages filled with Abby's paintings and drawings. He would later learn that the girl, who said her name was Megan, and her family were not at all what they appeared to be online. Megan became Schulman's obsession and the core of Wesselman's growing cast of characters. "20/20" spoke with Schulman, Catfish filmmakers Ariel Schulman (Nev Schulman's brother) and Henry Joost and, in an exclusive, the woman who created the nuanced illusions that fooled a young man into thinking he'd found the love of his life. After the cameras stopped rolling and the truth came out, Wesselman said she continued to send Schulman e-mails attached to fake identities. She would later divulge that after facing snide comments about her paintings online, she began posting them as 8-year-old Abby -- and found the critics to be much kinder. I hope they're filming it,'" she told "20/20." She created online profiles for at least 21 relatives and friends to round out Megan's social circle. "I just couldn't let it go," she said, adding that she attempted suicide as a way out. Schulman even doctored a photo to look like the two of them were posing together. I'm not going to reserve the fact that I really do like her and that I'm hoping it works out," he said. Wesselman said her problems began when she looked for feedback on her artwork online, and was met with snide and stinging critiques. It was an innocent cyber romance that met a shocking conclusion, and it was all caught on tape: The documentary thriller "Catfish" chronicled New York photographer Nev Schulman's relationship with a woman he believed to be an attractive 19-year-old girl and her family, including her 8-year-old artist prodigy sister. "Turn on desktop notifications for breaking stories about interest? Then, there's Wesselman's estranged 21-year-old daughter Megan, who served as the inspiration for the character. "I've spoken to her just briefly ... to let her know what was going on ... and she's not happy." "I'm more stable because of the boys coming and bringing light to the problems," she said. That was when "we realized everything was fake," Joost said.

"I couldn't believe that somebody would do that," Gonzalez said. I do worry about how it's going to affect her for the rest of her life." Megan became the core of Wesselman's growing cast of characters. "I titled the photo 'someday' because I thought, you know what … I'm not going to be guarded. "I immersed myself into thinking that somewhere she's there." Megan and Abby are both characters created by Wesselman's imagination and brought to virtual life on Facebook. The rendition was nearly identical to a version Megan had sent them. "[My brother] said to me very sort of soberly, 'Don't you want to get to the bottom of this? Now, her husband and friends monitor all of her e-mails and time online.

"Catfish," which debuted last year and was released on DVD in January, made a splash at the If anyone was led down the primrose path, it was Schulman, Wesselman said. More recently, another copyright lawsuit -- related to a different song featured in the film -- was reportedly filed in the U.K.

"Someday, she's going to know how this really came down. But the discovery didn't keep Schulman from continuing with plans for his trip from Vail to Michigan's upper peninsula. Schulman said. "That's when I started filming because he would go, 'Pick these packages up, bring them down to the office and slice them open,'" said Ariel Schulman. But her involvement in the documentary has come at a high personal price.