konami code ❀ timothée chalamet [COMPLETED]

email

to: imaginary@bigbusinessemail.org
from: tchalamet@unnamedwebsite.com
cc: [none]
bcc: [none]
subject: lol fuck y'all

to my dearest management company,

when i signed to your team, i was ecstatic. i was young, freshly eighteen, and having graduated top of my class from laguardia, i was desperate to get into the industry on my own. you offered me a spot and i quickly said yes. you found me my first real gig, my first short film, my first movie. you pushed my career to the next level in ways i never could have done on my own, and in a sense, i should be grateful. to an extent, i am. i am fully aware that without your hard work and effort, i would not be where i am today. there's no denying that. however, there's also no denying that your terms and requirements are quite honestly ridiculous and disgusting. i am not an item for you to own and will not allow you to treat me as such. you use your clients like weak puppets on fragile strings, carefully and meticulously choosing their every move with complete disregard to their thoughts, feelings, dreams, etc. you act like we are your toys, like you can make us do whatever you want just for fun. to be quite frank, it's bullshit. no one should feel so owned, so restrained in their life, that they feel like they can't live it. you keep your clients from doing what makes them happy, from trying new things, from loving the people they truly love. it's all a game to you. you feed off of it, don't you? you all enjoy the rush of power you feel when someone is obligated to do whatever you please, so you manipulate and abuse that power to every extent possible. for what? your excuse is that you want to kepe your clients "relevant," but if that were the case, you'd want them walking the streets like it's nothing, living an every day life to appeal to their audience's as relatable, as just another kid they can see themselves in. you wouldn't make us buy fancy cars or live in modern (and, might i add, ugly) mansions in calabasas or beverly hills. relevance is not your priority. you have a vicious hunger for power, one that seemingly can't be satisfied.
so, frankly, here's a big fuck you. to your company, to your bitch of a ceo, to your policies, and to everything you stand for <333. i'm not a dog. i'm not a pawn. i'm a human being and you have never seen me as such. i'm not going to date saoirse. i don't love her. not romantically, at least. she's my best friend, and forcing this is ruining that for both of us. her career is all she has. she needs that to take care of her family. so do whatever you sick, twisted fucks want to do to me. take my money, my career, destroy my credit, whatever really tickles your pickle. but if a single hair on saoirse's head is hurt in any way, shape, or form, if you so far as cancel an audition, i will take this to court. article two section five of the terms and conditions of our contract states that should the contractor violate the terms of said document, any and all parties associated with them aren't to be affected by it. your threats of her career mean nothing. you can't touch her. frankly, you can't touch me - i can ruin you. however, i'd love to see you try. good luck with that one.
best regards, and good luck on all your further endeavors. have fun screwing over more kids who don't know any better.

kisses,
timothee hal chalamet

it took everything in me not to write "fuck ur chicken strips" somewhere in this