Chapter 5: The AI Love Poem Disaster

You know what's worse than saying something dumb in front of your crush?

Writing something dumb for your crush… and having the entire school read it.

Yeah. Yours Truly found out the hard way.

It all started on a Tuesday night—the kind of night where the universe just knows you're about to make a terrible decision.

I was slumped on the living room couch, staring at my phone like it held the secret to human existence.

Zoey, my little sister and full-time chaos agent, plopped down next to me with the grace of a falling brick.

"You're talking to your robot friend again?" she asked, squinting at my screen like a detective working a high-profile case.

"It's not a robot friend," I muttered. "It's… a life coach with bad jokes."

"So… a robot friend."

I couldn't even argue.

ChatGPT had been my go-to for everything lately—money-making schemes, drone upgrades, even advice on how not to sound like a malfunctioning GPS when talking to Sarah.

But tonight, I had a new mission.

Me: How can I impress Sarah?

ChatGPT: Why not write her a poem?

I scoffed. "A poem? Isn't that kinda… basic?"

ChatGPT: Classic works for a reason. Besides, I can help you write one that sounds legendary.

I hesitated. On one hand, poetry felt like something straight out of a cheesy rom-com.

On the other hand… I had zero rizz.

"Fine. Hit me."

The words appeared on my screen like magic—lines about stars, laughter, and some nonsense about 'effervescent smiles.'

It was smooth.

Too smooth.

If Shakespeare read this, he would've thrown his quill into the nearest fireplace out of pure jealousy.

But there was a problem.

If I sent Sarah this poem, she'd either think I was a secret poet genius (unlikely) or immediately suspect I copied it from the internet (extremely likely).

I needed to make it sound… human.

"Hey, can you, uh, make it sound like someone with zero rizz wrote it?"

ChatGPT: On it.

The poem transformed instantly.

The Shakespeare-level metaphors vanished.

Suddenly, I was reading lines like:

"Your smile is nice, like when Wi-Fi connects fast."

"I'm bad at words, but you're cool, I guess."

It was terrible.

It was perfect.

"Now this is something I'd actually say," I grinned.

Just as I was about to copy the poem into my notes (and maybe, maybe work up the courage to send it), Zoey's eyes locked onto my screen.

'Write a poem for someone with zero rizz,' she read aloud, her voice dripping with joy.

My blood turned to ice.

"Ohhh, I am absolutely saving this," she cackled, yanking out her phone faster than I could blink.

"Zoey, don't you dare."

"For what? This is comedy gold!"

I lunged for her phone, but she slipped away like a greased-up ninja.

"For real, I will uninstall every hacking game on your tablet. Permanently."

She paused—just for a second.

For a moment, I thought maybe she'd spare me. Maybe she'd show mercy. Maybe—

Tap. Sent.

Never mind.

"Sent to who?!" I barked, panic flooding my system.

Her grin was pure evil. "Let's just say… everyone."

Five minutes later, my phone exploded.

Kwame: Nice, Locker Boy strikes again!

Javier: Zero rizz poetry incoming!

Class 2B Meme Lord: Bro, did you really ask an AI to write you a love poem? 💀

By lunchtime, the entire school knew.

The poem itself hadn't even leaked—just the fact that I'd asked for one. And somehow… that was worse.

There was already a meme of me floating around:

Me, holding fake roses with the caption:

"Zero Rizz, Maximum Effort."

Kwame wheezed, slapping my back in the cafeteria. "Bro, did you really ask an AI to write you a poem because you have zero rizz?"

"It was supposed to be private!" I groaned, melting into my chair.

Even Sarah knew.

I caught her glancing at me from across the room, her lips twitching like she was trying not to laugh.

Not a cruel laugh—more like she was amused.

"Well, at least she smiled," Javier said, shoving a fry into his mouth.

"Yeah. Smiled at my misery."

"Nah, bro. You're building character. And memes."

As if on cue, Zoey strutted past our table and high-fived Javier like they'd just completed a top-secret mission.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling like it owed me an apology.

My phone buzzed.

Class 2B Meme Lord: Yo, can your AI write me a poem? My crush likes haikus.

I groaned and opened ChatGPT.

Me: Hey, can you make me rich enough to erase all digital history?

ChatGPT: Let's start with something easier… like making pocket money.

I perked up. "Like what?"

ChatGPT: I have a few ideas. Let's build your first hustle.

Little did I know, my next move would involve TikTok, lazy students, and just enough chaos to either make me a legend…

Or get me expelled.