House Of Muse Novels & Stories

"Ugh, disgusting fools! You and your daughter have held me back long enough! Do you know how hard it is for me to find a muse? I—" "Muse, my foot!" Mom suddenly started lashing out. "Henry, you're just a loser who got lucky. You have zero creative talent, and you're weak, spineless, and irresponsible. I don't believe for even a second that someone like you could paint anything that matters in the slightest. Trash like you have no right to be talking about muses!" "...What?" Dad was dumbfounded. After all, for as long as he could remember, Mom had always admired him. She had never voiced her true thoughts like this before.

Charmine looked up to see that the person she bumped into was Tristan. She asked suspiciously, “Why are you here?” “What a coincidence!” Tristan looked surprised. After a moment of shock, he explained, “I have a music shop down there, and I bought these for my friends. Seems like you’ve knocked down their food.” Charmine looked at the pizzas on the ground and the Muse Club down the road. “You own Muse Club?” She frowned. It was not far from the Jordan Group, so Charmine had heard about it. The ‘Muse’ from Muse Club meant music, and the club was the most professional auditory club in Burlington. They had all kinds of instruments including the guitar, harp, flute, saxophone, drums, piano, and

Chapter Forty-Seven Lana frowned as she tilted her head slightly to look at him, "Muse?" Damien stuck his hands in his pockets, squaring his broad shoulders which stretched the material of his jacket. He had a smug expression on his face as he continued, "ALLURE is the only company to have contracted Muse. I'll give you that fifty percent shares if you get her to design for MAGIC too." Lana blinked in amusement. Her lips twitched as laughter bubbled up inside her but she quickly composed herself, trying hard to keep a straight face.

As if my body didn’t go through sh*t last night. I gasped. “Was I in a coma?” Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing a man with pale skin and dark hair tied back into a ponytail. His eyes were uniquely a bright shade of red that matched the color of his lips. He walked gracefully into the room, closing the door behind him. There was this particular confidence in the way he held himself that made it obvious that he was the head of the household.

I bid my final goodbye before turning to leave. I got in my car, I was dreading going home. I'm too scared to be faced with the reality that I'm alone again. I let out a sigh before turning on the engine and making my way home. It didn't take long before I reached the driveway. I turned off the engine and stayed in the car for a few minutes before mustering the courage to get out. As soon as I opened the doors to the house, I was met with an eerie silence. "Fuck this," I say before slamming the door shut behind me as I exit the house.

Trigger warning: sensitive content ahead. Please skip this chapter if you are uncomfortable. Author’s note: I listened to Hans Zimmer’s Interstellar while writing this scene, so to get a more immersive experience, I recommend the readers listen to it too while reading. Inside the town hall, a lone piano is playing deep at night. His long, slender fingers perfectly hit every note to his somber piece. He has his eyes closed, feeling the strong, compelling emotions brought by the piece. In his mind, an entire orchestra builds up tension with him, harmonizing with his tune.

He tilted his head, a dark smile playing on his lips. I exhaled a harsh breath, placing both hands on my hips like a frustrated mother, who has been deprived of sleep. “I don’t want to have this filthy conversation with you, Killian.” “Oh…you do. And we will have it here.” He was imposing his words on me like he knew me better than I know myself. Like he could read me like a transparent glass. I hated it! “You see, Little muse. I have studied you for a year now,” he inched closer to me, stealing what was left of my next breath. “You love filthy things. You love watching me fuck other bitches in the study.”