The Write Match // Bill Hader

The Write Match // Bill Hader

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Jul 4, 2023
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Fanfic
Meredith Elliot, a writer who gets hired by Saturday Night Live, is a hardworking, determined woman who will not let anyone get in her way. She loves the excitement of writing something new every week, but there is one thing she cannot stand about it. The celebrities. After writing a hit sketch, Meredith is forced to work with cast members, like Bill Hader, to create characters and sketches. She treats the jobs as she would any other writing assignment. That is until she goes out after a show one Saturday night. • • • • "Meredith.. wait.. I have to tell you-" He starts and I groan. "I know where this is about to go, don't you dare say it." I tell him, but he's speaking before I finish. "I like you. Actually, I think we really like each other." He says, keeping his eyes on me. "You said it, even though I told you not to." I mumble, sighing. "I'm flattered... I promise... I am. So, can I go now?" I ask, and he laughs. *Story contains mature content and topics such as domestic violence, mental health, PTSD, and language.*
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Three years ago, Amber Milburn met Chris Collins...a senior who was arrogant, impossible, and far too good at getting under her skin. She eventually fell for him. He crushed those feelings badly... despite clearly feeling something himself. They walked away with pride intact and hearts slightly damaged. Now, three years later, Amber unknowingly lands an internship at his company. Chris is now the bossy, perfectly polished CEO who likes his coffee black, his desk spotless, and his life under control. Amber is chaotic sunshine in heels...funny without trying, stubborn by nature, and somehow, always fainting when he's just an inch too close. He likes order. She is disorder. He gives instructions. She argues with them. He wants distance. She keeps ending up in his space. Somewhere between office disasters, stolen glances, possessive moments, family chaos, loyal friends, and a history neither of them truly buried... old sparks begin to feel dangerously new again. Because the problem with unfinished stories is? They have a habit of starting over. *** "How could you do this to me? Why make me sign that contract?" I asked furiously. He looked up from his laptop and smirked. "As far as I remember, I didn't make you sign the contract, did I? You signed it on your own. If I am not wrong, it is entirely your fault for signing without reading the documents properly. The first rule in business is: never sign any papers without reading them properly." "I deny," I said. "Your wish, Ms. Milburn. You can walk out of the company anytime and meet my lawyers in court tomorrow," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You're cruel, Chris." "It's Mr. Collins for you, Ms. Milburn. I hope you know basic etiquette and professionalism, or your business degree is useless." "I hate you!" "Now, if you are done wasting my time, go and bring me my coffee. No sugar. Now out!" These three months were going to be the most disturbing and stressful three months of my life.

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