The Labor Day Chronicle

It’s crazy to think how the man I once admired morphed into the bane of my existence.

Declan Foxx was at one time my idol, the man who wrote stories so incredible that the very path of my future was changed. I didn’t just look up to him, I aspired to be just like him. But when the day came I got to meet him, I realized what a pompous jerk he was.

Vain, arrogant, naturally talented, and demanding.

Still, he was the best of the best, and when given the opportunity to work alongside him, I didn’t dare turn it down.

I thought I knew what I was getting into. Thought I understood how difficult he would be.

But it turns out, I had no idea. He was so much worse.

Mr. Foxx may be a man of poetic poise and pretty words, but it’s simply a guise for the dirty ones lying beneath the surface. The words that are so dirty and degrading most would be shocked by every single one.

But the thing is…

I think I might like being his perfect little word whor—.