The Muse Playbook

Chapter 1: THE HEARTTROB'S GAME The Lagman Legacy Academy gym was packed with students, the air thick with murmurs and excitement. It was Intramurals season, and today’s assembly would announce the official team rosters, event schedules, and most importantly—the muse who would represent LLA’s basketball team. The massive LED screen at the center of the stage flickered to life, showing a montage of past muses—elegant, poised, and the epitome of beauty. Their smiles glowed under the lights, their presence demanding admiration. Students whispered, throwing out guesses on who it would be this year. Mia wasn’t paying attention. She was seated near the back bleachers, away from the noisy crowd, focused solely on her pork adobo—tender chunks of meat, soaked in her father’s rich, garlicky sauce. The scent alone was enough to make her day better. Her father always made it extra flavorful, knowing it was her ultimate comfort food. She took her time, stirring her rice so it soaked up the sauce. She was about to take a bite when— A lazy voice drawled behind her. “Peppa, you shouldn’t eat your own kind.” Mia stiffened. The hairs on her neck stood up. She didn’t even have to turn around. She already knew who it was. “Go away, Haze,” she muttered, stabbing her fork into the rice, pretending he wasn’t there. Haziel Evander Levitsky Lagman—Haze, as the entire school called him. Heartthrob. Playboy. Bad boy. Walking privilege of Lagman Legacy Academy. And, unfortunately, her childhood tormentor. Haze sighed dramatically, lowering himself to sit beside her. “You wound me, Peppa. I’m just trying to help. A little diet wouldn’t hurt, you know.” He poked at her adobo with mock curiosity. “Seriously though, doesn’t it feel wrong? Cannibalism and all?” Mia’s grip on her fork tightened. Not this again. She turned, glaring at him. “First of all, I’m not a pig. Second, that joke is old. Third—” she snatched her lunch away as he reached for a piece, “—back off.” Haze held up his hands in surrender, grinning like an absolute menace. “Relax, babe. I wouldn’t take food from your mouth. You need it more than I do.” That did it. Mia grabbed her lunch container and shoved it against his chest, hard. “Choke on it.” He caught it effortlessly, laughing. “Aww, you care.” Before Mia could curse him out, the microphone screeched, cutting through the noise of the gym. “And for this year’s basketball muse—” A dramatic pause. The screen changed. Mia’s face appeared, massive on the screen. And not just any face. Her mid-bite face. Fork raised. Mouth slightly open. Caught in the worst possible moment. "Mikha Isla Alluria Acosta, 11-GAS Excellence!" the emcee finally announced A split second of silence. Then— Laughter erupted. Loud. Merciless. The whispers turned into giggles, then full-blown mockery. “Wait, what? Her?!” one girl gasped dramatically. “That must be a mistake.” “Is this a joke?” another sneered. “What kind of muse eats like that?” Mia sat frozen, her face burning hotter than the gym lights. She felt the weight of hundreds of eyes staring at her, pinning her down like she was some kind of circus attraction. Her fingers clenched around her fork. This can’t be happening. And then— Haze chuckled. That deep, amused sound that made her stomach turn. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Peppa Pig in high definition.” Mia wanted to disappear. She turned her head slowly, glaring daggers at him. Haze was leaning back, looking completely relaxed, watching the scene unfold like it was his favorite movie. “Oh my god, you’re enjoying this,” she hissed. He flashed her his signature half-smirk—the one that made girls swoon and made Mia want to throw something at his face. “Babe, this is better than reality TV.” I hate him. She clenched her jaw. “I hate you.” His smirk widened. “Hate is just love with a mask, Peppa.” Mia wanted to scream. But before she could, someone else spoke. “Did they really choose her?” “She doesn’t even fit the uniform.” “I bet she bribed someone.” Mia swallowed hard, her nails digging into her palms. She had heard these things before. She had lived with these whispers since she started studying at LLA. But this time—it was louder. Crueler. Because now, it wasn’t just whispers. It was a public humiliation. Haze, of course, wasn’t helping. He chuckled again, stretching his arms behind his head, looking entirely too entertained. “Cheer up, Peppa. Maybe they picked you for your personality.” Mia’s patience snapped. She whipped around, eyes blazing. “Screw you, Haze!” Instead of getting mad, he laughed. Actually laughed. “Babe, you’d have to buy me dinner first.” I’m going to kill him. Mia shoved past him, grabbing her things and storming off. The moment she stepped into the hallway, she pressed her hands against her face. This was going to be the worst year of her life. --- Mia stormed through the hallways, her ears ringing with the echoes of laughter from the gym. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. Why? Why her? She had never wanted attention. She was fine in the background, content with her own world, her books, and her food. She had never wanted to be part of LLA’s stupid popularity contests. But now— She was the joke of the entire school. She barely made it to the nearest empty classroom before she collapsed onto a chair, her chest heaving. A few seconds later, she heard the door creak open. Mia didn’t even have to look. “What do you want, Haze?” she snapped, her voice thick with frustration. Haze strolled inside like he owned the place. Which, to be fair, he kind of did. He leaned against the desk in front of her, watching her with that infuriating lazy smirk. “You ran off before I could congratulate you. Don't worry I got your back.” Mia shot him a look that could burn down an entire city. Haze only grinned. “Come on, Peppa. It’s not that bad. You’re school-famous now.” “Screw you.” He chuckled. Mia clenched her fists. “You’re the reason they treat me like a joke.” He raised a brow. “Me? Peppa, you give them the material. I just… guide the narrative.” That was it. Mia picked up the nearest eraser and threw it at his face. Haze dodged effortlessly, laughing as he strolled toward the door. “See you at practice, Disney Princess, My Muse.” Mia groaned into her hands. But if Haze thought he could turn her into a joke and get away with it— He was dead wrong. This wasn’t just his game anymore. She was going to destroy his damn playbook. This was, without a doubt, the worst day of her life.