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{Don't mind the next Scene after this info... I'm just testing something new. Chapter 7 begins with a TWIST!}
[Testing POV switch from Leon to 3rd person... What are your thoughts.]
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Scene: The Morning After
INT. LEON'S ROOM – MORNING
Leon groaned as he rolled out of bed, wincing as a bruise from yesterday's alley beatdown reminded him he was still, in fact, human.
LEON: "Ugh. My body feels like a 2005 bootleg action figure. And now I gotta go back to school where the rumor factory runs faster than the freakin' stock market."
Jesse entered the room holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate and wearing his usual butler-slash-retired-superspy outfit.
JESSE: "Rough night, Master Leon?"
LEON: (slurping dramatically)
"You have no idea. Gwen glared at me for 'not texting her back fast enough.' MJ kissed me on the cheek in front of everyone. Liz sent me a snap saying 'We need to talk,' and Felicia... just sent a cat emoji. Again."
JESSE: (with a raised brow)
"And you don't recall any past interactions with these ladies that might've... influenced their behavior?"
LEON: "No! I've never spoken more than two words to most of them! Except Felicia, but even that was—wait... actually..."
(Cue soft flashbacks:)
Mini Flashback 1 – MJ
INT. DRAMA CLASS – WEEKS AGO
Leon's foot accidentally hits the stage pulley and drops a curtain... which just so happens to knock MJ's ex-boyfriend off stage during rehearsal.
MJ: (giggling)
"Smooth move, Romeo."
Leon grinned like an idiot and muttered, "Totally on purpose."
Mini Flashback 2 – Gwen
INT. LIBRARY – A MONTH AGO
Leon bumped into Gwen while reaching for the same physics book. Their hands touched. Eye contact. Static.
GWEN: "Wow. You actually read?"
LEON: "Big words make me feel smart."
She smiled. Just a little.
Mini Flashback 3 – Felicia
EXT. PARKING LOT – THREE WEEKS AGO
Leon handed Felicia a fallen keychain she dropped—a cat-shaped pendant.
LEON: "You dropped this. Nice charm. You into anime or evil?"
FELICIA: (grinning)
"Bit of both."
Mini Flashback 4 – Liz
INT. CHEMISTRY CLASS – LAST SEMESTER
Leon let Liz copy his homework once when she was late. She didn't say thanks. But she did write "You're not as dumb as you look" on his notebook in eyeliner.
BACK TO PRESENT – LEON'S ROOM
Leon slowly blinked as each memory came back like a glitchy internet download.
LEON: "Oh my God... Jesse... I was the inciting incident."
JESSE: (sipping calmly)
"You do tend to leave an impression. Especially when you're not trying."
LEON: "No wonder I'm being hunted like a limited-edition Funko Pop."
Leon flopped onto his bed again.
LEON: "If I don't die from confusion, hormones, or Gwen's dad... it'll be a miracle."
{So what do y'all think? Should I stick with 1st person POV or adjust to writing it like this?}
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Chapter Title: "The Art of Not Dying (Fails Spectacularly)"
Day two
(Leon P.O.V)
INT. MIDTOWN HIGH – MORNING
I strutted my flat ass into Midtown High like a man trying not to be noticed—only to trip over a janitor's mop bucket like destiny itself said "nah"
Okay, Leon. Chill. No big deal. Just be cool. Be normal. Be background noise. You are an NPC... You lack plot amour and a girlfriend.
I slunk into the hallway crowd like a tall, anxious poltergeist with eye bags, suspicious bruises, and the lingering scent of MJ's strawberry perfume. (Yes, it's strawberries. Yes, I noticed. Shut up.)
"YO! Is that Lion Walter?" someone shouted.
"No way—that dude's real? I thought he was AI-generated thirst bait!"
"#ThreesomeKing!"
God, smite me. Smite me hard. Open a sinkhole, a portal, an Uber to another dimension. Anything.
And then—
"LEEEEON!"
Cue dramatic slow motion. MJ burst through the hallway like a cheerleader-shaped firework. The crowd parted like Moses splitting the sea of teenage hormones. She pounced on me with the velocity of a missile and the strength of a gorilla... Now that's not what you'd want to say to a girl. Trust me, I've got scars to prove that.
"You didn't text me back again! I missed you!" she purred sweetly... but her eyes? Her eyes screamed psychological warfare. Girl, it's just 24 hrs since you forced me into this fiasco!
I felt the jealousy from the crowd like radiation. My bones were boiling.
"H-Hey, MJ! I was, uh, grounded. For... existential reasons?" I lied. Badly.
MJ giggled like she hadn't just singlehandedly triggered World War Harem.
And then—
SLAM.
Enter Gwen Stacy: platinum blonde, leather jacket, sarcasm on max.
"Oh. So you had time to ghost me, but not her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes so hard my soul flinched.
"Ghost is such a harsh word! It was more of a... light haunting?"
MJ blinked innocently. "Hi, Gwen. Did you need something?"
Gwen didn't even look at her. Just stared daggers at me. "Just wondering if Leon remembers we had a study session this morning. Alone."
MJ's voice was pure sugar, laced with cyanide. "Well, he's with me now."
Gwen matched her smile, watt for watt. "We'll see about that."
AND THEN. IT. GOT. WORSE.
Because from the other end of the hallway, strutting in like a femme fatale straight out of a heist movie...
Felicia Hardy.
Her white hair flowing, her outfit criminally tight, her boobs bouncing like hope.
"Pussycats, please. Must we fight over one boy? Though... he is cute when he panics."
"Felicia?! You don't even go here!" I blurted. Since when does she offer science?!
She winked. "I'm here for... extra credit... ~Darling~"
OH MY GOD. IT'S LEON AND THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS AND I'M THE NEXUS EVENT.
AND THEN—
"Leon."
Cue boss battle music. Enter: Liz Allan. Ice queen. Student council. Probably owns stock in Google.
She held up her phone like it was a subpoena. "You didn't respond to my message. Are you ghosting me?"
"Wait, you texted him too?"
"He texted all of us?!"
"He's in demand. What can I say?" Felicia smirked.
The hallway fell dead silent. Everyone watched, holding their breath like it was the season finale.
Leon... you have two options:
A) Flee and fake your death.
B) Flee and really fake your death.
I raised my hands like a hostage negotiator. "Ladies. Beautiful. Dangerous. All deeply confused. Listen—"
BZZZT.
The loudspeaker crackled.
PRINCIPAL MERTON (V.O.):
"Leon Hart. Report to the counselor's office. Immediately. Also, stop traumatizing the school with your love life."
…I swear this author hates me.
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INT. SCHOOL COUNSELOR'S OFFICE – MOMENTS LATER
I stumbled in like a man who'd barely survived an emotional cage match. I opened the door—
And froze.
Deadpool.
Red-and-black suit. Bright pink tie. Fake glasses. Sitting on the desk, legs crossed like a twisted life coach.
DEADPOOL (faux Aussie accent) coughed before pointing the sit for me like a professional. "Leon Walter. Age: YES. Occupation: Walking hormone disaster. Welcome to therapy, you sexy little burrito of trauma."
"You've gotta be kidding me."
DEADPOOL twirling a pencil with unserious vibes replied with surprisingly enough enthusiasm that could shake a building. "Kidding? Me? Never. I'm your new school counselor. Mr. Pool. First name Dead. Fully certified by Wikipedia and Reddit."
I dropped into the chair with the weight of existential dread.
"Are you even allowed to be here?"
Deadpool whipped out a clearly Photoshopped ID. "Graduated Harvard, Oxford, and Hogwarts. Majored in sarcasm. Minored in emotional sabotage. Certified by: Steven He's Failure management and Co."
"I think I need a priest."
"Same difference. But priests don't get to say 'threesome' out loud."
He flipped a clipboard with hieroglyphics on it. Even he does not understand his abomination of a handwriting.
DEADPOOL suddenly paused. Turning serious like some bipolar disorder patient. "So... you seduced a cheerleader, emotionally entangled a Spider-Girl, flirted with a cat burglar, and pissed off the class president. All by accident?"
"Basically... And I'm not even sure the Spider one is true."
He leaned forward, peering behind the fourth wall... His white eyes stared at the readers for a minute to late.
"…You're the main character, aren't you?"
"What?!"
"Main. Character. Plot armor. Chaos aura. Harem magnetism. Girls can smell it. It's like Axe body spray mixed with anime trauma."
"That's not real."
"Oh really? Then explain why you're being reverse-harem'd by three Marvel iconic heroines of a certain Bug Menace and a burglar with better hair than you."
I blinked. "What the hell's a Marvel?"
He gasped in shock. "We're gonna have to fix that."
Deadpool stood up and paced like a motivational speaker on cocaine.
"Look, kid. You've got two paths. One: Deny it, live quietly, die boring. Or two—embrace the madness, kiss the girls, fight radioactive wombats, and become the legend." He leaned against the door, acting all cool and all.
The door creaked open mid-speech and he fell out face-first.
I sighed. "What kind of therapist are you?"
Deadpool, face still on the floor:
"The fun kind. Now take this prescription for emotional resilience, a gallon of sarcasm, and come back next week for emotional damage bingo."
I walked out, questioning my life choices. Again.
FADE OUT.
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