( he's in a bad mood already when he starts getting into it with internet strangers—plenty of men delusional enough to think they could even survive a serve from serena, and a couple of wannabe news outlets he tells to fuck off a lot.
eventually he's swamped enough that he just goes ahead and fires off a bunch of tweets his erstwhile publicist would have both shouted at him for and also cashed in on. easy to call them all racists (she's swedish you fucking nonce) and easier to pull attention to himself and his washed-up status. he absolutely lances al and his team, and the only thing he regrets is that his hand isn't in good enough shape yet to make some s-tier memes.
somewhere in the middle, because he doesn't even know if she has a publicist, let alone one smart enough to warn her, he texts her: )
no subject
eventually he's swamped enough that he just goes ahead and fires off a bunch of tweets his erstwhile publicist would have both shouted at him for and also cashed in on. easy to call them all racists (she's swedish you fucking nonce) and easier to pull attention to himself and his washed-up status. he absolutely lances al and his team, and the only thing he regrets is that his hand isn't in good enough shape yet to make some s-tier memes.
somewhere in the middle, because he doesn't even know if she has a publicist, let alone one smart enough to warn her, he texts her: )
he's a cunt. stay off twitter.