the worst guy

chapter 23

(y'all just don't know. this song is the shit. donald, why are you doing this to me with your voice? your voice is able to impregnate millions. especially me. i listen to this at least 400 times a day. imma have donald's babies everywhere. 👶🏽 buT IGNORE ME, I JUST HAVE A DONALD OBSESSION. READ THE CHAPTER PLEASE.)

Donald's POV

i finally made my way to the place where the meeting would be. to be honest, i was pretty nervous about it considering all of the record deals i've called.

most of them had some catches to it which i didn't really approve of but hey, i guess that's how you get your stuff out there.

i sigh heavily, turning the car off and walking into the place. it was pretty big and tons of people were here. shit. maybe i should've dressed up instead of looking like a homeless man.

"donald glover? is that you?" i hear a voice say.

i turn around to see an woman come up to me. she looked older than me but she was dressed professionally so i guessed she worked here. she was probably 20 years older than me.

she wraps her arm around mine, catching me off guard.

"if you're wondering how i know you, i can match voices with faces and with that deep, sophisticated voice of yours, i could tell you would be a handsome piece of pie." she says, giving me a wink.

i smiled awkwardly, trying to ignore the fact that she may have been hitting on me.

"you are donald glover, right?" she says, scanning me.

i nod my head yes, giving her another awkward smile.

"okay, great!" she says, looking at her wristwatch. "just on time!" she says, as we walk to wherever she was taking me.

"mr. williams may seem a bit rude, but don't let that intimidate him. and don't be afraid to open up, boo!" she says.

the fact that she's still trying to talk and act like a teenager was annoying me in a way.

we both stop walking as she pushes me towards the door, catching me off guard a bit.

"good luck, baby! i'm rooting for you!" she says, as i look back at her, almost convinced that she was my mom.

'good luck, baby!'

what the hell?

i sighed, knocking on the door. the door quickly flies open. "who are you supposed to be? bettie, who is this homele-"

"that's donald! the one you wanted to see immediately!" says the woman who was getting too friendly with me.

"oh. damn, i thought you were- uh- ugh- nevermind that. come on boy." he said, shaking my hand as i entered.

he was a black man, surprisingly. he had a deep, southern accent. his head was bald, and shining. he was also pretty stocky.

"sit down boy!" he says, sitting behind his big desk.

"i heard your song, uh what's it called? 300-?"

"oh, you mean 3005." i say, chuckling and looking down. "yeah, i'm pretty proud of that song."