The Muse Gang

Chapter twelve

The entire music class stared at me in surprise while I played FADED song by my favorite artist with a saxophone. I was spectacular.... Harmonical... Perfect! Okay time for the confession.

Bless me father, for I have sinned. I used the sax perfection of the cheeky muse to get an A+ in my music test. Yeah you got me. It was Clinton in me. However now, my classmates and Miss Jane just blinked at me when I was done. As planned, I pulled the innocent face and returned the stare.

My music teacher stammered, clearly showing her impression, "Wow! Edward. That was... amazing. I did not expect this much. I'm impressed, really!"

I shrugged at her, "Thank you ma'am. A week of practice was finally worth it."

She nodded and grinned prettily. For the first time, it seemed she liked me. And the crazy Clinton just made me wink at her. Jeeesh..

Well, she flowed along.

After the class, the cheeky one left my body and walked side by side with me.

I turned to him with pleasure, "Thanks a bunch."

He frowned and made a displeased look, "Keep your gratitude to yourself. You know what could be a good reward from your side?" He faced me back and clearly saw my confusion. Sighing, he stated, "Long time I got laid. That would be very compensating."

As cheeky as he was, he put that kitty face on, getting a laugh out of me.

"How am I supposed to do that? I'm a full grown male," I grinned.

He replied with a question, "Who's the most gullible girl in your school?"

I think I knew where he was going to and I somehow went along, "Someone named Sandra." Clinton looked very satisfied, releasing a smirk as evil as he was, "I need your body, yunno."

"So you wanna turn me into some kinda... What's the word?"

He smiled because I finally understood, "Don't blame me. Being a muse is so restricting."

I nodded, clearly understanding him. But Marshall and Clara?

"You could still find a muse girlfriend," I suggested.

He laughed shortly, "I'm too slutty to keep a girlfriend. However..." He sighed and turned to me. We both stopped walking now and I held his hazel gaze.

He continued, "I'd make you kiss the hottest girl in school. The only thing I need is your permission. That would be the bestest way to say thank you to me. I'd gain some excitement."

Serious thinking..

And even more serious thinking...

Then I saw Liza, "Fine. The girl over there asked me out on a date. Maybe we could...."

"Laughing my ass out. She asked you on a date?" He grinned.

When all I did was a simple shrug, he placed a hand on my shoulder, "Then let's go kill it."

Before I could say anything, he possessed me again. I twisted my neck and cracked my knuckles.

Clinton was a monster. I walked up to where Liza and her friends stood. When I reached them and smirked at her, her friends wisely walked away.

Gotta admit, this cheeky muse knew his ways, "I'm happy to date you."

She smiled widely and tucked her hair behind her ear, "Cool!"

Eyeing me lustfully up and down, she went on, "Can I help you anything now?"

Jeeesh... Clinton. I returned the lustful stare and replied, "Everything on the menu."

He was so evil. Making me say things... The ones I secretly wished I could say in real life.

Well, Liza snickered satisfactorily, "My car."

***

Next thing I knew, Liza was on me, in her car, rubbing her lips all over mine. I sure did hope Clinton was satisfied.

Not only my lips were being rubbed. Her hands went all over my body, touching everywhere. When I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. Even on the most unexpected places. If you know what I mean. I never actually imagined my first make out to be like this... Or with her. But right now, I was fine with it.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

I took my hand up to her face and stuck my tongue into her mouth. Just so you remember, Clinton was controlling me. Nevertheless, this muse life of mine was pretty cool.

***

After a few more minutes of madness, Liza had given me the best smile ever and offered to drop me home. I guess I really made her day. As I stepped into the house, the cheeky muse made his way out of my body and stretched happily. We both laughed and gave a high five. Our mirth was completely destroyed when we went up to my room and met Marshall giving us this stern look.

I looked around the room and back at him, "What?!"

He snarled, "Liza. Really?!"

How did he...

I pointed at Clinton innocently, "He made me do it."

My muse then took the entire rage from me to the muse by my side, "Really! You just put my host into a whole lot of trouble. I asked you to help me help him. But no! You went to make out! And dragged him into it in the process." Clinton groaned and frowned at him, "Oh the asshole said yes."

And once again, Marshall's rage returned to me, "Really Edward! She will liquefy your heart. Crush it into a million cells."

"Why would she do that, "I shrugged, "I mean, she asked me out."

He calmed down, his frown lightening into a surprised smile, "Hah! Just listen to yourself. I know you know she is not in love with you."

He made a point I did not want to admit, "Maybe."

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Clinton walked to my window, "Can you both shut up!" He turned to us and held out his hand, "We have a night to prepare for. Remember?"

My muse sighed and rubbed his face, "Oh yeah. About that... Fred suggested an outfit of black linen. We'll wrap ourselves up, neat and cool up till our noses."

"Black is cool. But why?" I shrugged

Marshall rubbed his hands together and made a dramatic pose, "First of all, to look all muse like and shit..." He quit the act and stood seriously now, "and most importantly, to blend with the dark."

I sighed out of frustration. Being a host was cool undoubtedly. But it sure did come with a lot of pros and cons. Like you couldn't even date who you wanted or get a break from hunting the fallen, "Give me a break."

My muse smirked and looked at my backpack, making it teleport to my table. He then made the heavy jacket I had on drop to the floor, "Clinton and I can help you with that." He glanced at the cheeky muse who grinned wickedly.

I made my lips a parabola and shrugged, teasing them to my own gain, "That is if only you could provide the satisfaction I crave."

They exchanged smirks before staring back at me.

Soon after, Clinton said as a he clicked his fingers, "Oh you'll beg us to stop."

What! Was that even possible...?

Before I could finish my laugh, we all teleported to the back of a fence. I looked through the squares on it and found Hanky's resort, recreation and yoga, "Woah!" These guys knew just what I needed.

***

Next thing I knew, I was on a sun lounger, surrounded by hot sweethearts. Some fed me fruits, one rubbed my hair, another massaged me with oil, the rest strengthened my joints. Okay I change my mind. Being a host was the most satisfying feeling in the world. This was the best thing you could imagine. The crazy muses who put me into this were in beach shorts, taking a dip in the pool, invisible as hell.

When I was satisfied with the pleasure, I took a walk with my muses, through a corridor in the resort that led to a banquet table. It was literally filled with eatables. Just imagine anything in this world that could be put in the mouth and you would find it on that table. From questions, it was meant for customers, free of charge. Well I was a customer, wasn't I?

It was when I stalked to the table to treat myself that I widened my eyes at what we all saw. It was the devil itself. Deceitful, luring, captivating and despicable... Casseroles!

"Is that casserole?" I blabbered in surprise.

Clinton sighed and replied, "No dumbass. It's yogurt."

"I get it first," Marshall pitched in.

"Not on my watch," Clinton snarled.

I shrugged, like I loved competitions, "Me too."

They turned to me and eyed me in such a way I felt so foolish.

No wait... I was confused.

The cheeky one actually cleared my state of Oblivion, "When muses are talking, humans shut their crap."

Damn it. This guy was rude. I knew that.

But then, my very own muse added in support, "Like really! Muses can just say..." He frowned and corrected himself, "sorry. Muses could just THINK of anything and the casseroles end up in their hands. Like we've got powers. Before you walk up to that side of the table, the bowl's empty."

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I sighed, obviously not planning to walk around to get the meal. My muse was too busy being judgemental he didn't read my mind to know my evil intentions. "Call the time," I said.

They gave me one last look of foolishness before Clinton said, "Fine!.... One, two..."

When I was in middle school and my teacher would bring a bar of Choco for one lucky student who was fast enough to get it, I never stressed my lazy ass to struggle and break bones with them. I used the magic word that we all knew but were too busy fighting to remember. But I always did. The word that was fair and unfair at the same time. The word that automatically makes whatever everyone wants your immediately. And I was gonna use that word right here. ".... Three," Clinton finished.

Immediately he said "Go," I said, "Dibs." And the bowl was all mine already.

This was surely faster than the whole magic show they were about to throw on.. like making the meal turn to scorpions that only listen to your orders. Blur!!

Then once more, they eyed me ruefully. You know the look you get that makes you convinced you are dead already.

A moment or two of rueful eyes and Clinton gave the biggest growl I'd ever heard, "That wasn't fair. Using Dibs. Like what the.."

Before I was really killed, I grabbed the bowl and walked away, "All is fair in love and war. Besides, we didn't set any rules, did we?"

They both were in that situation where you were red with anger you could make liquid boil but still could not do anything. Even my muse was still too... backstabbed to speak.

Was it just me or did the casserole taste even better after winning it?

They later appeared with me after having accepted the shock as we admired the outside of the resort.

Suddenly then, both ghosts stopped walking.

Clinton gasped, "Do you feel that Marshall?"

Marshall had a frown on as well. They both turned around and faced the main building.

"Are they... Are they in there?" Marshall asked.

I looked at the two of them in curiousness, "What the hell are you two talking...?"

My muse answered before I finished, "Negative energy."

I was silent. Trying to think if it was good because we found the fallen or dangerous, "You know they can feel you too."

Clinton turned around and widened his eyes in shock. Marshall and I did the same, although I did not know why they were that surprised seeing a built middle-aged man in a suit surrounded by bodyguards, "Okay why are we surprised?" "That maniac," Marshall snarled at the man in suit.

Who was he....

Clinton folded his arms, keeping clear eyes on the surrounding now, "That man is Jordy Hardin. The boss of Goldy locks."

The fallen..... Jordy Hardin..!

That wasn't good.