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The first time I met Kanye West was in a bar. He noticed I was looking at him and misinterpreted my scowl, thinking I was sizing him up. When he tried to talk to me, I cut him off – told him what I thought of his lying, adulterous, ego-maniacal ass. You see, the gorgeous jerk went out to dinner with my best friend – luring her into his bed without even thinking to mention that he was married. He deserved every bit of my fluff, even if it was a little, compared to what he did. Especially when that lazy smile graced his perfect face in response to my furious monologue. Only, it turns out, the man I just made a rag of isn't the right man. Oops. My mistake. Embarrassed, I ran away without apology. I was never going to see the handsome stranger again anyway, was I? That's what I thought… until I walked into class the next morning. Well, hello Professor West, I'm your new assistant. I will work under you… figuratively speaking. Although a literal interpretation might not be such a bad thing – working "under" Professor West. This is going to be interesting…
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