“Your Ro... Robert is the fucking Robert fucking Brantley? Dude what the fuck!!!”
Jason was fan-boy’ing. He was walking on my bed barefooted and fanning his face with his hands.
Yup, definitely fan-boy’ing.
“He is not my Ro... Robert. Yes, his name is Robert Brantley.”
“Dude, you know, who he is? A fucking legend. A legend like King Arthur. He is a myth. He literally built his entire empire from dust. He started working as a construction worker at the age of eight. He is a billionaire now. He is my freaking fucking idol. Duuuude. He is my role model because he gives me hope. I wanna...”
I was feeling so proud.
I chuckled. Who was I to him anyways!
A sunflower watching the Sun.
Nope.
A moth to a flame, feeling proud of the glow while burning alive.
“Are you okay? I forgot how you might me feeling.”
“Take me to the balloons, slave.”
“Hop on, goose.”