AU: So, when I was young, I had an obsession with Greek mythology. And after, err, borrowing a book from my elementary school, and 'forgetting' to return it, I discovered the wonderful story of Pygmalion.

Time and time again, it amazes me, and so I have decided to make a sort of tribute to it, modernized, of course. But this is vaguely based on that story.

I know I probably shouldn't be starting another story, but I really can't resist this one. The writing style will hopefully differ from DM and MISU.

Also, a change of title, perhaps?

do tell me what you think of this story!

Enjoy!

Project Pygmalion
chapter one.

The ladies of Hawthorne Regency Academy (better known as HRA) were not at all happy with Devon Beckett.

HRA had quite the reputation for excellency in academics, athletics and aesthetics, and also prided themselves in the fact that most of the men and women of the school were happily paired off into couples. It was not unusual, even for teachers and the Headmaster, to see lovers running through the hallways, frolicking and giggling as if they were prancing around in a field full of flowers.

Those who had yet to be paired off were always on the brink of being so, and were excused from any sort of scrutiny or set ups.

But Devon Beckett seemed to be an exception to this mass trend.

It was quite unnerving, really.

Devon Beckett was the reason for many of the bachelorettes, since they refused to give up on him for various reasons. Some liked him for his beautiful features; a face that was perfectly symmetrical and proportioned, with high cheekbones, red lips and stormy gray-green eyes. At the top of his head was what would be best described as an organized mop of black and longish hair, swept dramatically to the left right above his eyes.

The rest of him was just as beautiful. He was lanky and tall, with long legs, strong arms and hands just made to envelope you into a hug. The school uniform (which consisted of a dark navy blue jacket with the school crest, black pants, white collared shirt and dark silver tie for the boys) seemed to be tailored to fit him perfectly, and hugged his form. Though rarely seen out of school, most people assumed from his air that he would wear comfortable clothes over labelled ones.

But the girls had other reasons too. For example, others liked him because of his warm and empathetic demeanor. There always seemed to be a very gentle ghost of a smile present on his face, and his eyes were able to calm hysterics with just one look. When he spoke, it was like the deep rumbling of distant thunder, a very low and resonating voice that had the power to shake someone to the very core.

So why would these ladies be so frustrated with Devon?

If he was so perfect and beautiful, what reason could there possibly be?

Well, let us first pronounce very clearly that Devon was an artist.

In general, an artist is a very vague term. It can be used for visual arts, for music, for writing.

But that is why the word artist is so perfect for Devon; because he is not only one of those things, he is all of them.

Devon not only wrote songs, he sang them, and he played them on several instruments. If he was feeling visual, he'd draw in his sketchbook, or paint on one of the many canvases at his disposal. Since HRA was quite well funded, they were able to afford marble blocks and expensive art materials and tools, and because of Devon's unnatural talent, he was able to use whatever he wished. Sometimes, when Devon wasn't in the mood for music or visual art, he wrote. He wrote poems, plays, and other things, but his passion in writing was for short stories. Devon loved creating characters in his head, wondering about how they would act, what they loved to eat, and what kind of people they were.

Although he was quite a well-rounded student, excelling academically as well, music, visual arts and writing were the three main components of his life. They consumed all of him, and they were what he thought about ninety-nine point nine percent of the time.

And that was what angered the ladies.

The fact that Devon Beckett was so enthralled and absorbed in his hobbies, interests and studies that he made no time whatsoever for the lovely ladies of HRA, thus shunning any invitation for parties, dances and dates. He ignored their love letters, their chocolates on Valentines' Day and their attempts at asking him out. He thanked them, apologized and then shook them off, his conscience never making him feel guilty about his response.

Devon Beckett was a happy bachelor, and it made them furious day and night. However happy they were to see a couple striding down the hall or kissing passionately, they were immediately reminded of Devon, who was probably doing something alone.

After many attempts at setting him up with suitable girls, changing girls to suit what they assumed to be his compatible other, and piteous bribes, the ladies of HRA went to their last resort.

Their last resort was a woman who stood at the very top of the HRA Student Body, a woman whose order was to be followed, and whose personality should be emulated, a woman who was a natural leader and role model.

Her name was Adrienne Bredoteau, but at HRA, she was known as Aphrodite.

Adrienne Bredoteau was half Japanese and half French, but her features definitely leaned towards the French side.

With large and sparkling brown eyes, they always seemed to be up to something. Her features were prominent; high cheekbones, red lips and a thin nose. She rarely put on make up, since her skin was flawless and features needed no emphasizing. Her hair ended abruptly at her shoulders, and she had straight bangs which ended right above her eyes. Though this hairstyle might have been slightly peculiar, since most girls had parted bangs and layered hair, somehow it seemed to suit Adrienne and made her stand out even more.

But Adrienne's personality was the attribute that made her soar straight to the top. She was good natured and friendly, energetic and motivated. Her laughter could be heard throughout the school, and it was perfect for setting the tone of the school atmosphere. She was the kind of person you could talk to, knowing that she wouldn't tell a soul, and she was the kind of person who told it as it was, even if it was painful. She was also the kind of person whose good traits rubbed off on you, and made you want to be a better person.

Devon remembered quite clearly the first time he had seen Adrienne. He had been sitting on a bench underneath his favorite tree, trying to fit in a little bit of reading before school started. The school courtyard was bustling with people, some typing on their laptops furiously, trying to finish some homework, others chatting or texting from their high class cellphones. He could hear faint conversations that varied from world politics and global issues to the latest fashion trends, and he could feel the breeze of change.

Suddenly, like a wildfire, silence spread throughout the courtyard as the front gates creaked open.

Walking with a regal air, Adrienne Bredoteau had arrived with a large smile on her face, ready to conquer the academy. Just as his uniform hugged him, hers did as well. The girls' uniform, which consisted of a pleated dark blue skirt with a thick waistband, a white tie-neck blouse that had the school emblem on the ribbon and an optional dark gray and navy blue sweater vest for colder days, also seemed to be made for Adrienne. She wore it with confidence, which was also conveyed through her strong stature.

Of course, Adrienne drew much of the attention, but as Devon had always been one to see what was behind the focal point of the picture, he noticed something that many other people failed to see. Behind Adrienne was not only a man in a black suit holding a black umbrella with black shades (how clichéd), but there was also a small figure, drenched in a black sort of cloak. A hood fell over the head, obscuring the face from view, but he could make out what seemed to be the girls' uniform.

Devon craned his neck in an attempt to see, but Adrienne and the bodyguard did a good job of protecting whatever or whoever was there.

Devon licked his lips eagerly and let his imagination take over.

Could it be a sister with a horrible deformity? If so, was Adrienne protecting her sister, or embarrassed? How did she get the deformity, if there was one? If not, why was she being hidden? Was it because she was allergic to the sun or something dramatic like that?

Adrienne, smile still plastered on her face, shook hands with many people as she, the man and the figure went towards the main entrance. Adrienne's flawless technique in drawing the attention away from the secret was able to distract everybody, and Devon heard nobody question the figure as they chattered and gossiped about her.

Devon, eager to find out more, snuck in through one of the other entrances, following them as stealthily as he could down the hall, hearing soft whispers of conversation.

They went into the office, and the man came out soon after, nodding in acknowledgement to Devon before leaving.

Devon peered into the office the moment the man was out of sight.

Adrienne, who was clearly the more dominant of the two, was discussing matters with the secretary, and beside her was not some monster or ugly woman, no.

It was a simple girl, who was quite obviously Adrienne's younger sister. Sensing eyes on her, the younger sister's eyes shifted towards the window, where Devon watched curiously. Her eyes connected immediately with his, and she seemed quite alarmed. Although because she had no visible deformity, Devon expected his mind to be disappointed. But the exact opposite occurred; shock was sent through every nerve of his body, and Devon instinctually pulled back, speed walking away from the office towards the Art Wing as fast as he could, the image of that girl imprinted in his mind.

The moment he got there, he began to draw as he'd never drawn before. So many images were flooding into his head, but although the image had been permanently imprinted in his head, he needed to know more. All at once, he wanted to sing, he wanted to play, he wanted to draw, he wanted to sculpt, he wanted to write.

Who was she?

So many questions invaded his mind, and Devon tried his best to calm himself down.

But nothing could calm down the sudden obsession with the girl, though he had only seen her for a short amount of time.

What was the word for a person like her, who was able to inspire him in a mere moment?

Muse. That was the word.

She was his muse. And he wanted to know more about this wonder and mystery.

"Now, are you completely sure about this decision?" Adrienne asked for the umpteenth time. That morning had been a hellish one; waking up was harder than it usually was, and Adrienne was reluctant to go to school.

"Yes, of course. You know I would not decide on anything before thinking it through."

Adrienne's posture stiffened, and she froze for a few moments, remembering immediately the real reason for the transferring of schools. A hand reached out to her, clamping firmly on her shoulder, feeble but strong at the same time.

"I will be fine, sister. Just focus on your own studies, alright?"

Sometimes, Adrienne felt like her little sister was the one who was older. She just wanted to protect her, since her sister had gone through horrendous experiences at their previous schools, but this was what she'd said every single time.

"I just... I can't help but feel that it's my fault." Adrienne confessed, fingering her bangs and making sure that her clothes were nice and neat. "They all did that because of me... and I tried to stop it, but... I--"

"Sister. I have already stated it once. I will be fine. Worry about yourself!"

The calm voice soothed Adrienne, and her stance relaxed immediately.

"Sorry." she muttered, stealing a glance at her sister.

Catching it, Rayelle Bredoteau smiled as brightly as she could back at her older sister, trying her best to cover up the inner feelings that refused to calm down.

Although she had told her sister to be calm and that she was not worried at all, in truth, she could not help but feel anxious and nervous about what was to come.

While Adrienne had gone to get their bags, Rayelle stared at her mug of tea, thinking deeply. She needed to calm herself down, so she reminded herself of how HRA was different from most other schools. For one thing, their standards made it so that only the top students from countries around the world could get in. The assurance that each and every one of them would be more mature than most high school students and on a completely different level of intellectuality soothed Rayelle slightly. Another thing, it was rumoured that the students of HRA had been mostly paired off. Of course, knowing her sister who would climb straight to the top, she would be shielded from any scrutiny or possible pairings. Her sister had always been able to find a way to do so.

Lastly, most of HRA's classes had been set up so that partnered projects were optional; if you really wished to do so, they could be done alone, as long as they were up to par. With Rayelle's grades and skills, this would be no problem at all.

Furthermore, she was already used to being quite alone a lot of the time, though her sister frowned upon it.

The pamplet for the school laid limply beside her breakfast plate, which had been barely touched. With thin and pale fingers, she took it from the table, opening it and reading its details once again, though she had done so many times already. Skimming it quickly, she recognized some of the same things she had told herself before. Global school, completely different, top notch education, and so on.

Then, she looked at the pictures. The architecture of the school was certainly breathtaking. There was a front gate, and a school courtyard as well. The grass was green, and the walkways were tiled with the finest stones. Gardens were not an unusual thing to see, nor were benches that you'd usually see in parks, or fountains usually seen in front of political buildings. The school itself was large; three levels, but with an emptied out middle, where a great tree stood. Bridges criss-crossed the emptied out middles, allowing you to get from one side to the other easily. The hallways outlined the middle as well, in a sort of Japanese style.

Rayelle was able to convince herself momentarily that this time would be very different.

"Come on, dummy! Let's go! And bring your plate with you. I know you barely ate any of it." Adrienne smirked, dragging her sister along with her out the door and into the car.

The pamphlet still in her hand, she opened it again, trying to calm herself down again. Rayelle observed the pictures, and saw one of an attractive boy, painting.

She admired his concentration. He looked like the kind of person she'd--

No. She couldn't think that. Closing the pamphlet as quickly as she could, she stared out the window, trying to calm her nerves and keep those idiotic feelings tucked behind her mask.

This time, it had to be different.

But didn't she tell herself that every time?

The car ride was filled with Adrienne's animated chatter, and Rayelle laughed, nodded and commented at the appropriate times. But when they arrived at school, that was when the dormant feelings erupted and awakened, ready to be provoked.

Adrienne threw a cloak over her sister, and carefully led the little troupe of her, her sister and Trenton, the bodyguard. She would distract everybody from her sister if it was the last thing she did.

Adrienne had already expected the narrowed eyes and judgemental students, but was glad to see that as she shook hands with some of them, they quickly became comfortable with them and were so absorbed in watching her that they did not realize at all who was behind her.

But Rayelle felt that it was the opposite. Though she knew most of the gazes were on her sister, she still couldn't help but feel as if they were judging her as well, or would be judging her very soon. She wished to be invisible, but she knew that it was impossible.

When they were finally inside, they made their way to the office, where Adrienne and Trenton spoke to the secretary. Rayelle took off the cloak; it was slightly troublesome. She smoothed out her uniform, the one she thought looked hideous on her, and tried her best to look presentable and normal.

She just wanted to be invisible.

When Trenton left, Adrienne told her sister to sit down, and Rayelle nodded. But she felt eyes on her, and shifted her gaze about the room uncomfortably.

As she turned her head, she suddenly caught the gaze of a boy-- the same boy she had seen in the pamphlet. It was a face and an eye colour that she could never forget, and her eyes widened slightly.

He took off very abruptly, and Rayelle didn't know if he was embarrassed or shy, but she tried her best to shake off the feeling she got from him.

No avail. By the time the organizing and signing of papers had been done, Rayelle still could not forget those precious seconds of eye contact, which was now imprinted in her head.

Who was he? What was his name? What was he like?

Try as she may, Rayelle could not avoid the questions that invaded her mind, so she let them.

Though Rayelle knew that she shouldn't have been thinking those questions, something she didn't know was that across the school, in the Art Wing, a certain boy was thinking the exact same thing.

R&R. please, please review or message me and tell me what you think! any sort of criticism or comments are greatly appreciated!

-chewyyyy.