You were good at everything- almost. You see, you had claimed the spot of the smartest girl at school. To most, you also claimed prettiest. But when it came to art, you were helpless. You had a 100 in every single class besides art, in which you had a 90. It was teetering on a B, which you would not have, so you sought out a boy you knew could get it up. The artsy boy of your school, the one you just so happened to share an art period with. Your rival.

When your art teacher announced a partner project, you immediately took it as a chance and ran up to him after class. You asked him if you could work with him, and- considering you knew half the class had already asked him- maybe begged a little. You weren't exactly above it. And, eventually, he said yes.

The problem is, you hadn't exactly been listening to the rules of the project, and when you got to his house, ready to paint, he looked at you expectantly.

"You're the muse." He said, like you should've already known- which you should have.

When you looked at him in confusion, he sighed, "I'm going to paint you." He reiterated. Great, you thought to yourself, I have to stand in one pose for hours. It couldn't get much worse than that, could it? Well, at least you wouldn't be painting.

"And, it's a nude portrait."