Muse

CHAPTER 1

It's the middle of the week, a hump day morning you could call it, and my 11th grade art class is tasked with painting something that inspires us today. So I paint the most inspiring thing among man, two pairs of giant melons that may, or may not, look like that of a woman's wondrous bosom. I lean over to my fellow man friend, Stan, whom I share art with and ask him what his opinion is on this masterpiece that I am creating.

He glances at my masterpiece and then rolls his eyes at me.

"Kenny, dude, another pair of boobs, really?"

"It's melons, not boobs," I tell him.

"It's boobs," he states.

"It's art," I correct, and he rolls his eyes once more and goes back to working on his painting.

I glance around the class, curious what others are working on. My gaze lands on a very peculiar looking piece of art that has an array of colors being sectioned off by bold black strokes. It's interesting looking, almost, Picasso-like. My gaze drifts over to the artist curiously and it finds the messy blond hair of one, Tweek Tweak, painting it.

I'm surprised that he's the one who painted it, but even more surprised by how calm his demeanor seems to be while painting it. And for a moment I wonder if that is even Tweek. But as the bell rings signaling the end of class and a sudden, 'Gah!' comes out, followed by the usual twitching, I conclude that, yes, that is indeed Tweek.

...

Later, long after the school day is over, I find myself sitting in a corner booth near the back of Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse. One, being that I needed somewhere quiet to study for this dumb upcoming English test and home isn't exactly peaceful. Two, it has free Wi-Fi that I can use on my cheap ass cell phone. And three, well, because it's warm here, real nice and toasty.

I continue my studies while listening to some music with my headphones in. At some point I glance up to find that I'm the last one here, aside from Tweek working an alone shift. When I check the time and realize just how late it is, I decide to finish up and get ready to leave in about five minutes so that Tweek can close up shop. Thinking it best to leave before he asks, because talking to people always seemed to make him antsy for some reason.

I notice a customer walk into the place between me writing notes and doodling. At first glance I pay no mind to them, but then I look again and something seems a bit off about this customer, this, guy. It's not the way he's dressed, but how he's acting. He doesn't seem to notice me sitting in the back as he talks to Tweek. He orders something, and when Tweek goes to make it, the guys casually slips something into Tweek's drink that is set off to the side. Tweek turns back around and hands the guy his order, a drink, he says something more before Tweek picks his drink up and takes a sip out of it.

Alarmed, I immediately stand up.

"Tweek—don't!" I shout.

The guy quickly looks over at me, noticing my presence now and takes off running out the door. I rush over to Tweek by the counter and he gives me a confused look.

"W-What is it?" he asks.

"That guy, I think that I saw him slip something into your drink," I tell him.

"Huh!? R-Really!?" he exclaims looking at his drink.

"Yeah, how do you feel?" I ask a bit concerned.

"I feel fine r-right now," he replies, twitching a bit.

"I see... Well hopefully I was only seeing things," although something inside told me that the guy shouldn't have run away if that was the case, "do you want a ride?" I decide to offer.