The Muse System

Chapter 1: The School Beauty, Chloe

“Alright everyone, listen up,” Mr. Vance announced, tapping a heavy stack of papers against the wooden podium. “The results from this week’s practice National Entrance Exam are in. Most of you performed exactly how I expected—which is to say, you didn't embarrass me! But we have two standouts who continue to be the absolute pride of our senior homeroom: Chloe Prescott and Tyler Brooks. And what’s even more worth celebrating is that on this mock exam, Chloe finally broke through her plateau and scored an absolutely jaw-dropping 590 points out of 600. That is the highest score anyone has ever achieved in the history of our academy. Let's give her a massive round of applause!”

As Mr. Vance led the applause, every single head in the classroom turned toward the girl sitting right next to me. The girls looked on with a mix of envy and sheer jealousy, while half the guys in class had this look of hopeless, starstruck adoration in their eyes. They clapped like their lives depended on it, as if making enough noise would somehow rub some of her genius off onto them.

I was the sole exception. Plotted next to Chloe at our shared double desk, I was fast asleep, face-faced on the wood. The sudden explosion of applause was like an alarm clock from hell. Groaning, I rolled my head to the side, burying my face in the hood of my school jacket to muffle the noise.

Slowly, the clapping died down. The tension in my shoulders finally relaxed, and a faint smile touched my lips as I drifted back toward sleep.

Finally. Peace and quiet.

SLAM!

A deafening crash rattled my desk. I jerked upright, heart hammering, my face instantly twisting into a scowl as a curse flared in my throat. I was ready to tear into whoever did it, but the words died instantly when I saw who was standing over me.

It was Mr. Vance. His face was practically purple with rage, and the heavy stack of textbooks he’d been holding was now resting on my desk. He’d clearly slammed them down right next to my head.

I blinked up at him, dazed and more than a little annoyed. What is his deal today? Usually, he couldn’t care less if I slept through his lectures. But Mr. Vance had that classic, power-tripping teacher authority, so I wisely kept my mouth shut and looked down.

A smug, cold smile crept onto his face. Normally, he treated slackers like me with a policy of mutual neglect—I didn’t bother him, he didn't bother me. But with final college admissions approaching and the National Entrance Exam around the corner, our test scores directly impacted teacher evaluations. And around here, evaluations were tied directly to year-end bonuses. In Mr. Vance's eyes, I wasn't just a bad student anymore; I was a direct threat to his bank account.

"Well, look who's finally awake. Zach Carter," Mr. Vance said, his voice dripping with mock praise. "Credit where credit is due, folks. Outside of Chloe, Zach here actually made the biggest 'leap' in our entire class. Let's give it up for him! He has officially escaped the title of being our absolute lowest-ranking student. Out of over twelve hundred seniors, he managed to climb up exactly one spot!"

He paused, letting the suspense build, then smirked. "Want to know how he pulled off that academic miracle? The kid who was in dead last got food poisoning mid-exam and had to go home early."

He delivered the punchline with theatrical flair. His cheap shot did exactly what he wanted: the entire classroom erupted into mocking laughter.

The sound of their laughter hit me like a physical blow.

An underachiever? A slacker?

Did pulling bad grades mean I didn't get to have any dignity? Did failing tests mean I was just a punching bag for teachers and classmates alike?

Humiliation washed over me, hot and suffocating. I hung my head, shutting my eyes tight. My chest heaved as I clenched my fists under the desk, my knuckles turning white. I squeezed so hard my fingernails bit deep into my palms, and a sharp sting registered as blood began to bead and seep between my fingers.

It took everything I had, but after a long moment, I forced my head up and looked Mr. Vance dead in the eye.

"Mr. Vance, I might struggle with school, but I'm not the useless loser you think I am. I'm going to prove it. On the real exams."

As much as I absolutely loathed him, I knew that throwing a punch or flipping a desk would be a one-way ticket to getting expelled. It would feel amazing for about ten seconds, but then my chances at college would be completely ruined. I could handle the fallout for myself, but I couldn't bear to see the look on my parents' faces if I threw my future away.

For a split second, Mr. Vance seemed caught off guard by the sheer intensity in my voice. But his sneer returned almost instantly.

"You? College?" He snorted. "Kid, you're not just daydreaming; you're living in a total fantasy world."

He clearly didn't believe a single word. To him, there was absolutely no way the school's biggest academic reject could pull off a miracle with only three months left before college applications closed.

Behind him, another wave of snickers went through the classroom. A cold, dark anger flared inside me. I stared at him, silently cursing him in my head, wishing he'd trip on his own ego and break his neck.

"Fine," I snapped, unable to keep the venom out of my voice. "You think I can't make it to college? Just watch me."