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—