Jane's POV

Just when you think life doesn't get any more boring, it does. Especially in my neighborhood.

When you grow up in the suburbs you think, 'Oh My God. I am so lucky', and then the next thing you know you are getting wasted on a school day, getting kicked out of your house and living with your sister's boyfriend. That couldn't be so bad, you think.

Surprise! It does!

You realise that your sister's boyfriend is a douche bag, and you want to go to university. So you fill out a bunch of forms, pull up an extra shift at the closest mall and pack your bags. Then you become a victim to the grand scheme of universe too.

Long before I could ever figure out what to do with all of my five feet and two inches, I was already a student at Montreal State. What was really surprising was, I hadn't even applied for a course there. It was a serendipity really. It all started with a story.

"You write all those weird stories that no one reads! How about you write for them? Atleast someone will read them," John said, that evening, waving the newspaper cut out in my face.

"Isn't that like... Your newspaper press that published it?" I looked at him dubiously.

"Of course! And doesn't that make it more important?"

Nope. It didn't.

HOT NOVELS NEEDED: BRING THEM ALL, AND DO SOMETHING EXCITING!

It would make you think that is some important shit. Then in a very small font the rest of the newspaper read: We want Isekai stories that can challenge the norms. Give us the spicy, mind boggling stories and we will give you an opportunity to join us for a curated degree program, here at Montreal State University.

I didn't know much about Isekai novels but I did read a few, and wrote one for their 'New Literature Prodigy Program'. By that time I had little idea about the course. And then, the letter arrived. The acceptance letter.

They did go all out with the theatrics of the occasion. Not long after, I found myself walking in and out of the university library, with my head buried between new and old isekai novels. I was the goat for slaughter. And now there was a book project that was staring me in the eye. Remember when I said when you think it doesn't get any more bad, it does?

My newest research partner for the story about mediaeval dukes and their mistress was supposed to meet me at the library today. And of course, she had bailed out despite being a full time scholarship student. I didn't know what to make of it. Finding myself all alone, I decided to read on my own. That's when my phone buzzed with the text I dreaded.

Sister: Jane the hell you are in Montreal.

Sister: I am going to whoop your ass. What did I tell you about it?

Sister: John filled your head with all sorts of ideas.

Sister: You know they are all scammers. That University is not even a registered one.

My heart sank. Camile, my sister was something of a journalist. She wrote for the local newspaper and specialised in the sports column. That's where she met John, her senior editor. They hooked up the very night and she moved in weeks later.

Me: You've got to be kidding me. I am here on a scholarship. It's all fucking free.

Sister: Where are you? God. Jane, you are so stupid!

Now, it was going to get annoying. I wasn't the one who moved in with her boss. Her newspaper had hit a dead end when they published a poorly researched paper on one of the top actresses who was said to be 'in a sex scandal involving the President', and got sued.

They were all out of commission and had to scurry their way to other newspapers. All except, John and Camile who had succeeded to throw over their Managing Editor and took the bait.

Now, the local newspaper only wrote about sports, diapers, and random shit about babies. Much of it had to do with what John and Camile wanted to do with their lives. Which is why it would also print about orgies. Sometimes marriage. And sometimes about cheating.

Me: You don't know anything about Montreal State.

Of course, I would argue with her. She was only two years older than me. A whopping twenty two, and had dropped college to be with an out of station man who wrote stories about his infidelity on local newspapers. If there was anyone who was stupid, it was her.

If there was anything good that John had ever done was show me the newspaper clipping that their newspaper had printed about Montreal. It would look so bad on paper for Camile to call out the news she herself text proofed and stamped with 'Okay. Print'. All I knew was I had a paper due, and a fifty page report and my partner had bailed out on me.

Me: I am going to be at the library. I have REAL work.

Camile didn't text after. To my relief, the library wasn't plagued with the couples either. They are every single student's worst nightmare. Most of them would kiss between the shelves.

God forbid, I might have even seen one of them jerking off to the spine of World Encyclopaedia. It was horrifying but I never touched that section ever. Neither told anyone about it.

Everything about Montreal State was something you don't talk about much. It was an old building, close to the Montreal Administration office. Its campus was spread across four hundred acres, all closed with the Montreal Fort. On my initial days at Montreal, I thought it was so thrilling to study within the palace.

But it turned out that the last touches of Montreal royalty had been scrubbed off with cheap Lysol and food stamps from smelly sneakers by students who went to Montreal State. The building was in rambles.

The maintenance guys frequented it so much, they could be mistaken for permanent residents. And then, there was the academic section filled with passionate nerds, and choppy teachers. None likes the other. But are expected to make through.

I was lucky though. My major was a specialization in Mediaeval literature. But with the recent thrust in the popularity of isekai novels, the department was trying something new. A thorough study of any traces of isekai literature was to be done and recreated. I had set my heart on a very spicy one. The Mistress' Revenge.

The Mistress' Revenge was one of its kind. It was set in the kingdom of Gestalt, where Duke Canton, who was known to be a celibate was asked to be the King. His life seems to have passed in the war torn battlefields but he would refuse to marry even the prettiest women of Gestalt.

To his dismay, he rejects the love of the most coveted woman in five kingdoms. The story follows the life of a plain girl, who takes over the body of the Mistress and manages to seduce the Duke.

For some reason, the thought of hot broody men making women yearn does things to me. Not that I have lived long enough to experience it all. If only I could get my hands on a handsome man, perhaps life wouldn't be some morning. Someone like, the Duke perhaps.

Jane's POV

A day passed by and Camille has already forgotten my existence. Corin didn't show up. Which means, I am the only one that's stuck in the squabbled classroom with fourth empty pages, and a paperweight.

The archaicly textured, cheap paint comes off of the wall as some shoulders accidentally rub against it. There are cobwebs running through in the corners. I watch them mindlessly, when Professor Hank's voice brings me back to the classroom.

"Everyone, please turn in your reports by afternoon," Professor Hank walked in with his usual brown coat hanging down his shoulders. His dark eyes watched everything around him with scrutiny as if it was his first time at the C Block.

He had still not trimmed his hair. It has grown too long now. He had it tied securely into a ponytail. His mug was shaved clean, and his stance was weary as always. He used to wear those boots. The ones that made the annoying thud sound despite the soft landing of it.

"I am sorry, Jane," I turned around to find Corin, sitting with her arm around some tall, blonde guy. Of course. Corin had found herself a boyfriend.

"You had one job, Corin. Couldn't you just work your way through the scenes between Duke Canton and Mistress Vanya? We could have done it today," I scrunched my nose.

"Jane, you don't get it. Do you?" She hints looking between me and her boyfriend.

"God. Just get it done," I have had enough. The thing about people in relationships? They love to rub it on your face.

Professor Hank hadn't mind our little chit chat, and I mumbled a little prayer. God knows he hasn't been a fan of me. It's been five days. Five days and I haven't been able to write anything.

For anyone who came with impeccable, long red locks and a clean academic record, no one would take Corin for a slacker. She was a humbug, always in her head. Despite her long legs, and tacky fashion sense (that always included wearing something red, or in the shade of it to match her hair), she was unpopular. Atleast that's what she'd like you to believe.

When I first met Corin, I thought she was a nerd. Spoiler alert. She wasn't. She was far from it. Corin's dad was a man on finance. Everything that you need to be a trust fund baby. How she ended up in Montreal was a surprise to everyone. Everyone who ended up in Montreal was surprised, for that matter.

"I believe you have all done what was asked for you," Professor Hank eyes me and I felt my nerves bunch up. Holy shit. How do I blame it on Corin though?

Corin's social life outside the uni campus was brighter than my living room's ceiling lights. She would hang out with all cool, and hot dudes. Some even let her stay at their place. The other day she would limp back to class and say things like, gymnastics, yoga and never admit that she just got shacked.

Which was a nice thing to do, given her reputation at Montreal. Corin was the top of the class, and the most proper student. There was no way Professor Hank would believe me that she slacks off. And that brings me to the other problem. Professor Hank.

"Jane, are you here with us?" Uh, oh. His gaze meets mine. I am not usually intimidated by my Professors but there's just something unusual about Professor Hank.

For one, he always, almost dresses the same. And two. "Have you not embarrassed yourself enough in last class to daydream in this one?" He mocks. He hates me.

"Let me guess, you haven't written the report that was due?" He walks closer to my desk. Chips of wall paint rub on his shoulder as he walks past. The room is humming with silent whispers, but I do nothing. Here he comes.

"I am sorry, Professor. We had sort of a situation," I said, meeting his eyes.

"Does that situation scare you more than getting a D in your paper?" He raises a brow.

"No- I mean. I swear I would have done it if..." Before I could say more, Corin squeezes my hand. "It's my fault," she says.

"No need to defend her, Corin. I know what Jane is like. It's a surprise she even got so far in the programme with such an attitude," his words dig deeper into my skin. For a handsome young man, he sure was rude. And mean. And a God awful abominable person.

"Isn't it safe to say, that life would be easier if you just dropped out?" His tone was cold, arms crossed in front as I lifted my head to meet his gaze.

"It's not my fault that I have trouble reading the..." All colour rushes to my cheeks before I realise what I was about to say.

"Speak, Jane. Let's hear what excuse she has now," he mocked.

"I- I cannot read the spicy scenes," I stuttered. And just like that the word was out. Laughter erupted. Even Corin watched me like I was chopped liver. What? It's not my fault.

I am a virgin. It makes me feels stuff that I shouldn't. But I wasn't ready to share all that quite yet.

Professor Hank narrowed his eyes. "Surely, your attempt at excuses is commendable. You will stay behind for two hours, and read the scenes in front of me and submit the report," his voice drops so low, I could feel ice slipping through my spine.

"Nod if you understand, Jane," he says, and I catch a glimpse of him. His lips curve slightly. As if in a smirk. I nod my head slowly and then he whispered something in my ear.

"Good girl," something stirred within me and before I could think or say more, the class presumed. All the while Professor Hank taught us the rules for semantics and how to spot incoherence in passages, I sat there with my own misery. Trying my best to understand and make sense of it.

The class ended in what seemed like forever. Everyone had already left but Professor Hank, and I.

"You must be delighted to know all your peers have managed to turn in their reports, except you. Poor Corin. Was I wrong to think her company can enlighten you?" Anger flashes in his eyes. I have no idea what I have done to him.

There's just this thing about him that throws me off guard. That and his terrible anger towards me.

"Is it too hard to do what you are told? Take out the darned novel. You won't be leaving until we are done." He tells me, and I gulp feeling the dryness spread through my throat.