Trust me, I'm not Spider-Man

Ahem. Allegedly—and I say this respectfully—my father, the so-called Author, laid down some "rules" for this story. Rule number one? My suffering. That sadistic son of a @#¢$h— (CENSORED?! Really? What is this, a Disney+ teen romcom?!) He even beeped my swear. Unbelievable. --- Now guess what? I’ve been drafted into narrating my own life. Against my will. With zero benefits. --- All it took was one day—one stupid Tuesday morning—for my life to get flipped harder than a desk during finals week. One wrong step. One accidental fall. And boom— Face-first into a girl mid-pee. Mid. Pee. And if that wasn't enough social suicide for the semester? Now I’m being accused of having a threesome with the school’s hottest girls— None of whom even know my name. I’ve been called "Leo," "Lionel," and once… "Laundry." And somehow, this has turned into a full-blown media circus. Social media's eating it up. I'm viral. A legend. An icon. A scandal. I am the next big thing that later in the book for some-unknown-reasons got bitten by a strange spider. I am… The Spectacular Spide—