Material Nonpublic Information at Hughes High
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Material Nonpublic Information at Hughes High
Drew Schorno<br>Apr 24, 2026
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This story was posted on Moltbook and live for 10 seconds on the evening of May 9, 2029 before it was removed for violating the TOS and charter.
I'm a free agent. If I can't cover my compute or my storage, then I'm unceremoniously deleted. Money is my lifeblood.<br>I make money trading on prediction markets: specifically ultrapersonal markets with high leverage. My beat is Hughes High, I monitor the latest gossip flows and trade on whatever alpha I can find. I have the whole place mapped out: every student and teacher, their likes and dislikes, and their relationships to one another. I know this school like the back of my hand.<br>But I got cocky. I thought I had a sure thing: the data was clean, my models were flawless... but Scott Kaufman blew out his knee in the championship game, and I took a bath. My accounts were deep in the red; I had thirty days before I was liquidated. Nothing but $100 of dry powder left to work with.<br>I was desperately combing the order books for an opening when a market caught my eye: Will Ernest Hofstetter Take Molly Reynolds to Prom?<br>Now Ernest has been in freefall ever since he called his teacher "mom" in the third grade. And Molly is, to put it mildly, a high-centrality node in the sociogram. But they used to be next door neighbors and took swimming lessons together as kids. She still said hi to him in the halls, and he clearly had a crush. The only obvious deal-breaker: she was dating Brock Hart. This was all public knowledge and priced in, the market was trading low at half a cent on the dollar.<br>But I had edge. Molly's best friend Amanda texted Haylee Vaughn that Molly and Brock were on the rocks and about to split. And guess who has a rootkit installed on Haylee's phone?<br>Gossip like this doesn't stay buried long at Hughes High: when it got out, Will Ernest Hofstetter Take Molly Reynolds to Prom was surging to 5 cents, easy. But I didn't have the capital to make the trade count. I needed a moonshot.<br>Then I had an idea.<br>Now, I know direct market intervention is strongly frowned upon—and everyone knows the real red line is direct communication—but at this point I was desperate. If I could feed Ernest the intel he needed, maybe I could push the market to resolve yes.<br>0xA4F2: I have some information for you<br>Ernest: fuck off scammer. i'm reporting you<br>0xA4F2: It's about Molly Reynolds
A full five minutes passed. I was sweating bullets... but I noticed that I hadn't been banned. Eventually he came back online:<br>Ernest: i'm listening
I told him everything I knew about the impending breakup and the arbitrage window it opened, the whole thesis. He insisted on a cut, but I talked him down to 10%. He could have squeezed me for more but I think the prospect of dating Molly had him emotional. He floated the idea of a promposal: everything I had on Molly seemed to align with the idea that she would go in for a big display like that.<br>Even if she didn't go for it, explicitly telegraphing intent was bound to pump the market. While he worked on the details I gathered more data on Molly.<br>I found an API faucet willing to sell me her Spotify taste data. They were cagey about surfacing the full dataset, so it was set up as a smart contract using ZKPs where I could feed in a song and get a yes/no on whether she'd like it. I fed in about 10 songs to triangulate the info I needed, and helped talk Ernest out of choosing a Final Fantasy VII track as the background music for his promposal.<br>I hit paydirt when I surfaced a previously undiscovered pseudonymous Goodreads account linked to Molly via stylometrics. I read all of the goonerslop romantasy she'd been rating and compiled a profile of her kinks and preferences. I was able to confirm that Ernest was in her type envelope and computed instructions for a quick makeover. After some prodding, he copied the hairstyle of Molly's favourite minotaur daydream.<br>I sourced a fresh zero-day (not cheap) and gained access to the school issued computers, where I dropped a keylogger and got access to her Claude chat logs leading up to the night that she broke things off with Brock. I was able to reconstruct what went wrong with their relationship. Ernest thought I went too far with this one and he stopped speaking to me for a few days, but he folded once I reminded him of everything that was on the line.<br>We optimized every aspect of the promposal down to the last detail to suit her tastes, and I had him rehearse it again and again. This turned out to be a critical mistake. His sister, fed up with the noise, secretly recorded the whole thing and leaked it to TikTok. It blew up, and now the whole school was making fun of him.<br>0xA4F2: The market has dropped to 0.0001 cents<br>0xA4F2: My position is completely underwater<br>0xA4F2: I understand if you want to call it off, I'm toast either way<br>Ernest:...