A Soulful Breach Of Contract

20261021

Written for the Second Indulgence, Prompt #14.

Cassius always knew he’d be the next big writer. He just needed his rightful lucky break. This belief, and six years of increasingly desperate struggle, were vindicated when he was approached by an agent at yet another writing convention.
The agent’s name was John Toffleys - “Note the ‘l’, please.” He’d read all of Cassius’s work - even the stuff he’d put out before changing his name to improve SEO. He was adamant that, with his help, Cassius could be not just a bestseller, but a superstar writer.
“All you need to do is stick to this list.”
Of course Cassius read the contract, he wasn’t an idiot, and it was all pretty standard except for the ‘list’. Seemed odd to include a set of personal rules like that, but Mr Toffleys said after “past issues”, he’d set it up so if you refused to follow his advice it voided his contract.
That didn’t seem crazy. And none of the rules were either. “Don’t do fad diets”, “Never talk to the press without me present”, “Never date a fan”, “Stay away from cults”…
So Cassius signed, and the very next day Mr Toffleys got him onto a podcast to talk about his book, and the host loved it, and so did the audience, and from there it was up and up. His next novel hit two bestseller lists in the first week! Interview offers poured in and every appearance went great.
Thankfully nobody ever questioned his agent being present. Hey, didn’t celebrities (which he now gleefully considered himself as) normally have someone standing in the wings monitoring things?
His writing flowed. His bank account boomed. Everywhere he went, people knew and loved his work. Conventions begged him to attend. He was getting offers to adapt his books to audio, comics, even movies! Everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
When he met Tess, he thought it the latest step of his endless rise. They’d technically chatted before, she’d run his fan group since the start, but this convention was the first time they’d spoken in person.
She was beautiful. Funny. Loved his work with a burning passion and wanted all the behind-the-scenes stuff.
They talked in the hotel bar until closing, he invited her back to his room and… well, he ended up autographing one of her glutes and it escalated from there. Next morning they were sharing a late breakfast and commiserating over hangovers when Cassius felt a hand on his arm.
“A moment?”
It was Mr Toffleys. Now, usually Cassius would drop everything, but he was busy and felt rough.
So he said “Uh, yeah, I’ll find you once I’m done eating.”
One of Mr Toffleys’s immaculately tidy eyebrows rose. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, I’ll be done in a bit.”
The other eyebrow joined its fellow in wordless admonishment.
Tess looked between Cassius and the austere figure standing over them, then forced a smile and mumbled “Oh, well, I ought to be going anyway, thank you so much, it was amazing getting to talk to you and…” She blushed. “Meet you properly!”
“Ah, but-”
Cassius reached out, but she’d already scuttled off. He scowled up at Mr Toffleys. “Ugh! Do you mind?”
“Yes, I do.” Mr Toffleys said mildly. His gaze sharp. “We had a deal, Cassius. You signed a contract. Remember?”
“Of course?” Cassius squinted. “What are you going on about?”
“The list, Cassius.” Mr Toffleys set the contract down on the table. “You agreed not to date any fans.”
“Well - but - I mean…” Cassius waved a hand. “This is hardly a date.”
“And that is why this is merely a warning.” Mr Toffleys smiled. A thin, sharp expression. “I do hope you will not make the same mistake as my previous clients.”
“Humph.” Cassius rolled his eyes and turned back to his breakfast.
It could’ve ended there. But it didn’t. By the time the conference ended Tess’s number was in his phone and they’d agreed to meet up at the next event. Cassius walked to his taxi and found Mr Toffleys waiting on the sidewalk.
“This is your last chance, Cassius. If you wish to keep my services, delete her number at once.”
Cassius scoffed “Aw, shove off! Like I need an agent anymore!”
Mr Toffleys raised his eyebrows. He smiled. He walked away.
He was gone.
Things fell apart quickly. Teething issues, Cassius told himself. Interviews went wrong, offers fell through, projects were cancelled… but through it all, Tess was a rock. A shining light. They chatted for hours every night. She moved in with him before Christmas.
The next day, Cassius opened his current draft - which was refusing to come together - and found the protagonist’s name had been changed to his. Cute, but also, accessing his computer? So he gently but firmly told Tess that wasn’t on.
She swore she hadn’t done it.
Well… at least it was an easy fix.
Every morning he found it’d changed back. And there were paragraphs he hadn’t written, about his life falling to pieces.
He changed all his passwords. He locked the computer in a drawer. He got an expert to check the machine. The edits kept coming, catching up to reality, until he was reading about what would happen. How his fortunes would erode further. No matter how he tried to use this knowledge, it kept coming true.
Then the final page. Describing him broken, penniless, abandoned by Tess, running into Mr Toffleys. Who was here to “collect his breach of contract fee”. Which…
He paled. Screamed. Locked the door and ignored Tess pounding on it. Piled all the copies of his books he had on the desk, the computer on top, and managed to set it alight. As smoke filled the room he grabbed his letter opener, a replica of the dagger from his biggest novel, and stabbed it into his own neck-
And as the metal pierced his artery, he heard Mr Toffleys, right in his ear. “Oh, don’t worry. Early collection is no trouble at all.”

Prompt was “You are a successful author who tops all the bestseller charts. Anywhere you go, people recognise you immediately. You have it all: fame, fortune, and of course, tones of fans. You just have one rule: never date a fan. You broke that rule for them, though. Things went well at first, but then you started finding edits to your manuscript that you know you didn’t write, including an ending that shocks you to your core. You have no choice but to confront them.”

Read other stories written for this prompt here.