"Over the years, I’ve gotten go come to work every day and have you look at me and call me the following: Porcelain, Gay Kid, Eddie Munster, Tickle Me Dough Face, and Twinkle Tush."
Chris is in need of a personal assistant. What he actually gets is a hell of a lot more than he bargained for. ~3200
This is most certainly a one-shot, but if you guys want more, all you have to do is ask and I can try and whip up more fics within this universe. Also, titles are insufferable, so if this becomes a thing, just consider it the assistant verse. Thank you to Jen for being an awesome beta :) I’ve been sitting on this long enough.
When it came to finding a competent personal assistant, Chris had his reservations. And he had the right, given his track record over the last six months alone.
It wasn’t that personal assistants were particularly hard to find in LA - but it took a real effort to weed out the bad from the good. More often than not, just like any job, people lied or over-exaggerated their actual skill level, availability, and accountability.
Chris was a pretty flexible guy, he didn’t need a personal assistant to clean up after himself. He only needed someone to help take care of the day-to-day inconveniences that he oftentimes overlooked thanks to his busy schedule. The whole idea of having someone to help out hadn’t even been his idea. Rather, at the suggestion of his manager who had been watching him burn the candle at both ends for the better part of two years.
GOD DAMN IT ANNIE