Random Run In?
Chesley had just left his publisher's office in New York. He had planned on it being a very short meeting since he was leaving the writing world for a while to help out with the X-Men. What was suppose to last forty five minutes took almost three hours of back and forth which pissed him off. In the Chesley told him in no uncertain words that he was done with writing and he had other familial obligations to deal with but if he ever felt like putting pen to paper in the future he would seek him out. Then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Feeling much better for what he had done he stopped into a coffee shop and splurged on an expensive coffee and cookie combo before heading out for a walk to help him digest what he just did. He had committed writer suicide and he knew if he ever wanted to be published again he would have to write under an assumed named. Oh well, he still had his health, his family and the X-Men to keep him busy and to at least give him a place to stay once what little money he did make from his crappy books ran out.
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