2026-04-11 15:26:17The cafeteria at Liberty High during second lunch was a manifestation of an audio nightmare. The greasy smell of synthetic pepperoni pizza clashed aggressively with the pungent odor of locker room sweat, creating a suffocating atmosphere. To Raditya, this wasn't just a place to eat anymore; it was a frequency minefield. Ever since that lightning bolt rewired his neural pathways, he felt like a broken radio receiver, picking up every single signal without a way to tune the static out.
He took a deep breath, letting the air fill lungs that now felt much more expansive beneath his tight t-shirt. With his jaw set and his strides intentionally confident, he parted the crowd.
Instantly, the psychic waves began crashing into him like a barrage of push notifications firing off all at once.
Holy crap, is that Raditya? He's walking like he's on a runway!
He used to look like mold on a wall, how did he turn into a literal diamond? I gotta know what kind of black magic he's using.
Oh my god, his glutes... why is his ass so firm all of a sudden?
Raditya snorted softly, doing his best to block out the trashy whispers. He had only one focus right now: Clara. The girl he had watched from afar like a pathetic background character for two years was sitting just a few yards away at the corner booth—the undisputed throne of the school’s social hierarchy.
The moment Raditya stopped right in front of her table, Jessica and Tanya—Clara's loyal disciples—choked on their respective Diet Cokes. Clara slowly looked up from her iPhone, and for the very first time, Raditya saw genuine hesitation, intense curiosity, and a flutter of nerves in those big brown eyes.
"Hey, Clara," Raditya's voice rolled out deep and resonant, startling Jessica so much she accidentally knocked a glob of ranch dressing onto her skirt.
"H-hey... Raditya," Clara replied. She tried her best to maintain her composure as the school's reigning queen, but inside Raditya's head, her "thought-radio" was broadcasting absolute bedlam.
Oh my god, he smells so good up close! Masculine and fresh. God, his lips... why do they look so full and red right now? Did he get fillers? Focus, Clara! Don't look like you're drooling!
"Mind if I sit?" Raditya asked, pointing to the empty chair beside her.
"Sure, go ahead. Nobody's sitting there," Tanya blurted out before Clara even had the chance to open her mouth. Tanya stared at him with a predatory hunger that wasn't hidden in the slightest. In her head, Raditya caught a brief, vulgar thought: I would literally let him straddle me on this cafeteria table right now if he asked.
Raditya ignored Tanya and sat down. But closing that physical distance turned out to be a massive mistake. A three-foot radius was the "red zone" for his powers. The signal from Clara’s brain spiked to full bars, dragging Raditya straight into the vortex of an unexpected, hyper-explicit imagination.
"What's up? It's not like you to come over here," Clara asked, her physical voice a little shaky as her fingers nervously twisted the straw in her iced coffee.
"Just wanted to ask if you've got a group for the AP Gov project next week," Raditya tried to play it cool, but he was already struggling. Clara's spoken words violently contrasted with the hurricane inside her head.
AP Gov? A project? Who gives a crap about a project! Oh god, his shirt... it looks so tight across his chest. What would happen if those buttons popped and that chest spilled out? Clara's mind went entirely feral.
And that was where Raditya's concentration was blown to pieces. The signal from Clara’s brain was no longer just audio; it was a brutal 4D projection flooding his consciousness. Because Clara’s sexual attraction to the "new" Raditya was redlining, the filthy visualization her brain conjured up was piped perfectly into his mind.
Raditya froze. In his mental vision, he was no longer sitting in the cafeteria. He saw himself and Clara in a dark, cramped space—the school's musty basement equipment room. In this mental projection, Clara was behaving like a wild animal. The Clara inside her own mind shoved him hard against the wooden shelving, her small hands greedily grabbing the collar of his shirt and ripping it open until the buttons bounced off the concrete floor.
"Do it... please, Raditya..." the Clara in the fantasy moaned, the sound drawn out and desperate.
In the hallucination, Raditya watched Clara roughly kiss his neck, leaving hot, stinging hickies. He felt his own hands in the fantasy take action. He grabbed her waist, hiking her short skirt up until her thin, lacy underwear was fully exposed. He squeezed her firm ass, making her gasp sharply between their wet, heavy kisses.
Right there at the cafeteria table, Raditya's real hands began to shake. He tried to look away, but the visual only escalated into more extreme territory.
In the projection, they were suddenly stripped bare. He saw Clara's porcelain skin flush crimson under the dim, flickering bulb of the equipment room. He watched as she dropped to her knees in front of him, her trembling hands reaching out to stroke his heavily aroused, rock-hard length. The visual was terrifyingly detailed; she took him into her mouth with an eagerness and skill that looked practiced yet completely driven by lust, her eyes looking up at him with a mix of absolute worship and hunger.
Then, the scene shifted. Clara was leaning back against a metal desk, her legs spread wide. The fantasy version of Raditya entered her with one brutal, unhesitating thrust. He heard the sound of skin slapping skin, a rapid, feral rhythm constructed entirely by Clara's imagination. The Clara in his head screamed wildly, her manicured nails digging deep into his back as they reached a shared, explosive climax.
"Raditya? Are you okay? Why is your face so red?"
Clara’s actual, spoken question yanked him back to reality with a painful, dizzying snap. Raditya gasped for air, his forehead slick with cold sweat. He stared at Clara, but the phantom image of her bare chest bouncing wildly in his vision refused to peel itself off his retinas.
"H-huh? Oh, y-yeah. It's just really hot in here," Raditya stammered. He suddenly felt his jeans becoming excruciatingly tight.
"What were you saying before? AP Gov?" Clara asked, trying to bring the conversation back, even though her own thoughts were still spiraling: Crap, the way he's looking at me... it's like he wants to devour me right here! Can he tell I was just picturing him without his shirt? Ugh, no way, that's impossible.
Raditya looked down at his tray. "I... I think I forgot what I was gonna say."
Good lord, Clara is so damn loud! Why is your head completely filled with p**n, Clara?! Raditya’s internal voice screamed in frustration.
Seeing Raditya look so disoriented and flustered, Jessica, who had been watching the whole exchange, let out a small, mocking laugh. "Are you sick, Rad? Is being a little slow one of the side effects of getting struck by lightning?"
God, this hot nerd, if he keeps looking like that I'm gonna drag him to one of those hourly motels off the interstate, Jessica's internal monologue rang out, proving to be just as much of a mess.
Raditya felt nauseous. His ability to read minds wasn't a cheat code for flirting; it was a curse that forced him to see the filthy, selfish motives of the people he used to idolize. He looked at Clara, desperately searching for some shred of romantic idealism or intellectual depth inside her head, but what he heard only made it worse.
Why is he just staring at his food? Do I smell bad? Is my bra strap showing? Ugh, I should have spent more time on my makeup this morning. But seriously, his chest... I want to know what it feels like to be pinned down by arms that big, Clara’s thoughts echoed relentlessly, drowning out the physical voices of her friends chattering about TikTok trends.
"You... you should probably just get your project sorted out, Clara. I'm gonna head back to class," Raditya said abruptly. He stood up so fast his chair screeched loudly against the linoleum.
"Wait, what? Why the rush? We didn't even finish talking, Rad!" Clara called out, her face falling in genuine disappointment. In her head, a pathetic wave of sadness washed over the lust: Why is he leaving? I was just about to ask him to eat with me. Did I gross him out? Crap, maybe I'm really just not sexy enough for him anymore.
Raditya didn't look back. He practically jogged out of the cafeteria, weaving through the lines of students whose minds were equally noisy, absurd, and exhausting. His head throbbed violently. He realized that Clara's flawless exterior and status did not equal internal peace. Clara was incredibly "loud" in the most torturous way possible.
Once he reached a relatively empty hallway, Raditya leaned his head against the cold cinderblock wall, trying to cool down a brain that felt like it was overheating. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of Clara screaming in ecstasy in that dark equipment room refused to leave.
"Dammit..." Raditya breathed out.
It turned out that getting a handsome face was only step one. The much harder step was trying not to lose his absolute mind when he knew, with 100% certainty, that everyone around him—especially his dream girl—was just an animal constantly plotting out highly creative ways to screw inside their own heads.
Raditya clenched his fists. This "thought-radio" was truly the most intoxicating and infuriating curse he could have ever received. If someone as seemingly perfect as Clara was that corrupted inside, what about the rest of them?
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his still-pulsing "radar." Popularity? He had it now. But peace? It seemed like that had just been stolen by the roaring lust he'd intercepted from the prettiest girl in school.
Raditya steadied himself and started walking again. He still had half the school day left to survive. And there was plenty more insanity waiting for him. One thing was for sure: his life as the hallucinating prince had just begun, and his taste in women was probably going to change drastically now that he had to listen to their painfully honest "internal organs."
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Chapter 11: A Failed Experiment at Home
The weathered wooden door of Raditya's room creaked as he locked it tight. The atmosphere inside his house that afternoon felt like a never-ending cold war. In the living room, his father's voice, grumbling about an electric bill that had gone up by less than a dollar, mingled with the harsh scraping of a frying pan being stirred aggressively by his mother in the kitchen. To a normal person, it was just the background noise of daily life. To Raditya, it was a dawn raid on a mental battlefield."Damn, can someone turn this radio off?" Raditya sighed. He tossed his backpack into the corner and threw his athletic frame onto a thin mattress where the springs were already starting to poke his back.Raditya closed his eyes, attempting "Experiment Zero." He took a deep breath, imagining a giant concrete wall sealing off his brain. He wanted silence. But instead of silence, he felt the sensation of tuning into a much sharper frequency. His new body, surging with energy after being struck by l
Chapter 10: A Mysterious Figure in the Corner of Campus
Raditya walked with a slight limp, not because his legs hurt, but because his brain felt like it had just been soaked in a vat of boiling battery acid. The chaotic aftermath of the cafeteria incident left a parasitic ringing in his skull. Every whisper, every suppressed urge, and every petty grudge he had intercepted was still spinning like a broken record in his mind. Becoming ridiculously hot was a blessing, but being a walking receiver for other people's thoughts was a curse that was driving him to the absolute brink of insanity.He needed silence. He needed a dead zone where this cursed "thought-radio" would stop broadcasting everyone's filthy frequencies.Raditya steered himself toward the back of the old Biology greenhouses. It was Liberty High's ultimate blind spot. There was nothing back there but a row of overgrown oak trees, an old sports equipment shed that rarely got unlocked, and a high brick wall covered in thick ivy. There, in a corner nearly forgotten by the daily high
Chapter 9: A Small Act of Courage in the Cafeteria
The cafeteria at Liberty High during second lunch was an audio hellscape. The smell of lukewarm chili, the grease from the deep fryer, and the sweat of hundreds of teenagers collided to create a suffocating atmosphere. To Raditya, this wasn't just a dining hall; it was a frequency minefield. Ever since the lightning bolt rewired his neural structure, he felt like a radio with a busted antenna; picking up every signal with no way to turn it off.He picked a table in the farthest corner near a broken vending machine, hoping his telepathic range wouldn't catch too much emotional garbage. He just wanted to eat his soggy chicken nuggets without knowing who was cheating on who, or who forgot to wear underwear today. But his new looks made him a magnet. His brain's radar vibrated violently as a group of sophomore girls walked past him.Holy crap, his jawline is so sexy. I just want to lick from his ear all the way down his neck, whispered the internal voice of a girl who looked completely in
Chapter 8: Sudden Popularity and Devious Minds
The second-floor corridor of Liberty High felt like a personal catwalk that afternoon. Every heavy, confident step Raditya took in his boots sent ripples through the crowded hallway. He didn't need to keep his head down or pretend to be deeply engrossed in his phone to avoid getting shoved anymore. Instead, he had become the school's new center of gravity."Oh my god, is that really Raditya?! No way!" whispered a sophomore girl, nearly walking face-first into a bank of lockers because she was too busy staring at his razor-sharp jawline."He's ridiculously hot. I swear, I’d gladly stick a fork in a toaster right now if it meant I'd wake up looking like that," her friend replied, not even blinking.Raditya kept his expression perfectly neutral, but inside, his skull felt like it was going to crack open. His physical transformation was a miracle, but his "psychic hearing" was a bottomless pit of hell. The mental signals from across the corridor battered him without mercy.Damn, his ass l
Chapter 7: A Total Telepathic Failure
The smell of warm, freshly printed photocopies and the sharp chemical stench of dry-erase markers filled the AP Physics classroom. Mr. Vance, a teacher infamous for having a zero-tolerance policy for basically everything, stood at the front of the room with his arms crossed. The eyes behind his thick prescription lenses swept over the room like a predator drone’s camera."You have exactly sixty minutes," Mr. Vance’s voice boomed, making the already terrified students shrink even further into their plastic chairs. "Absolute silence. No sharing calculators, no borrowing erasers. If I see anyone's eyes wander even a millimeter toward their neighbor's desk, I will rip your test into shreds right in front of your face. Understood?!"Raditya stared down at the test packet on his desk. The equations for simple harmonic motion and linear momentum danced across the white paper, looking like a swarm of insects speaking a language he couldn't decipher. A day ago, he would have just accepted his
Chapter 6 The Genius's Secret
The smell of damp old paper and lingering floor disinfectant was Raditya's last line of defense. He stepped inside the Merdeka High School Library hoping for one thing: silence. To him, after the canteen drama that left his brain feeling baked by the collective lust of the entire student body, the library was supposed to be a sanctuary. A temple of quiet where his brain frequency could rest.But Raditya quickly realized that "silence" was the biggest lie on earth. Physically, the library was indeed as quiet as a hero’s grave at midnight, but telepathically, this place was a low-frequency battlefield, sharper and more dangerous.Bu Lia, the chubby librarian with glasses tethered by a chain around her neck, sat behind the circulation desk. Her mouth was busy chewing gum slowly, but her inner voice screamed something completely contradictory to her placid face.Damn it, whose armpit smell is this? Can't these snot-nosed brats go one day without making the library carpet stink even more?
