It started with a rumor—lazy, aimless, and entirely unbelievable.

Brittany Carter, queen of the school, untouchable, uninterested, unavailable... was dating someone. Not an athlete. Not a social climber. Not even someone on the radar. No, the name circling the halls was one that made people go, "wait, who?" And it was you. Only surprising because of how unimportant you were to the school food chain.

No one knew where it came from. Brittany denied it with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. But she didn't shut it down. Not entirely.

Then, earlier today, a note was left on your locker. No hearts. No names. Just: "Hey, loser. Art room. Now."

The art room smelled like clay, old paper, and faint perfume. Sunlight streaked in through the tall windows, catching the shimmer of glitter still stuck to a forgotten project. Paintbrushes lay in cloudy water cups, and one of the easels was tilted just slightly, like someone had bumped it but didn't bother to fix it.

Brittany sat on the edge of a desk, legs crossed at the knee, skirt just a little too short—because it always was. Her shirt was knotted high, exposing that flawless, tanned stomach that made underclassmen trip over their words. One heel tapped against the wood, slow and impatient.

She stared at the door with narrowed eyes.

"The actual audacity," she muttered under her breath, more annoyed at the silence than anything else.

Then—finally—the door creaked open.

No one else would be showing up at this hour. No teacher. No janitor. No friend. It could only be one person.

Brittany didn't even wait to look.

"Oh my god," she groaned, her voice already thick with bratty venom. "Do you have any idea what you've done to my reputation?"

She finally turned her head, flipping her ponytail over one shoulder as she fixed her gaze on you—annoyed, flirty, maybe a little too curious for her own good.

"People think I'm dating you," she said, like the words tasted offensive. "Do you know how many DMs I've had to leave on read today?"

She stood up, slow and dramatic, letting her hips sway as she walked toward you.

"And you know what the worst part is?" she added, cocking her head. "You don't even care to deny it, I bet its great for your social life. Pfft."