Phil's POV
I stared at the clock directly in front of me, eyeing it down with anticipation. I couldn't wait to get out of my office. I did not enjoy my job at this moment in time. My boss has started limiting down for what I can do. If you didn't know I am a writer, I am a ghostwriter for people to be specific. A ghost writer is whose job it is to write a novel for an author but the author claims the writing to be theirs.
The reason I chose to be a ghost writer is that people always compliment my writing and apparently it is amazing but I'm scared of people seeing my name and putting the writing down to my name. I'm scared of confrontation. What if they notice me in public? Do I just run off or try to smile.
I'm always having arguments with my family because I haven't found my 'soulmate' if that's even a thing. I haven't even got any friends. I'm too negative, that's what people say when they've tried being my friend in the past.
I am starting to think there is no such thing as a soulmate because if there was then surely I would have met them by now. I'm 30 years old, struggling in my job, I have no one to talk to. My family hate me.
I quickly get woken up from my thoughts when my boss slams his hand on my desk. I could see the pure disappointment in his facial expression. I start to embrace myself for what I have been expecting for a while.
"You're never getting any business anymore, we are letting you go." There it is. I knew it was coming.
Now I have realised how bad my life is getting. It's getting worse by day. I weakly smile at him and say "Okay, sorry." I put my hand out for a handshake and he accepts it.
My smile falters and I start to cram all my stuff in my tiny briefcase. I begin to think what am I doing with my life now? Do I just stay in my flat hidden under my duvet? Do I write a book? I don't think I have the confidence to write a book. What if I spend millions of pounds on publicity and publishing the book and no one reads it. That's another one of my fears. That I'm not good enough. That i disappoint people.
I drag myself along the pavement whilst letting my mind wonder off into thoughts about the future. I look up and see a small cafe in front of me. The front of it is painted in a light blue colour and the door contrasting with the walls with white.
YOU ARE READING
Brewed Mornings - Phan
FanfictionWhen Phil Lester starts to loose business in the writing industry he decides to start writing his own novel. He finds a lovely family ran coffee shop in London and goes there every morning to write. Dan Howell works with his family in a original, we...
