Perfectionist Book Novels & Stories

I asked, crossing my legs. "Sure, Ms. Perez. I know you expect nothing but perfection and my team is the best in the company. I can assure you that," he stated confidently and I nodded with a smile. "That's convincing. I'll call you if I need anything," I dismissed him and let out a huge sigh, thinking about all the events that unfolded today but more importantly my mind was stuck on a certain pair of grey eyes that kept haunting me since that day at the club. It was supposed to be a one-night whatever like he said and of all places, he had to work here.

"Writers of sad books probably don't write to escape, they write because they feel the need to let people know that life isn't just a bed of roses. Why sugarcoat things when they can be honest?" She breathed deeply, probably wondering why I was so keen on this thing and to be honest, I was starting to wonder about that too. "I'd have loved to argue with you but you're right and that's a little bit disheartening." I chuckled at how low her voice when she said the last part before I moved even closer. "So, A Walk to Remember or The fault in our stars?" "Definitely A Walk To Remember." She answered in less than an heartbeat and I really just had to conclude that she must really have something a

I switch it on then looking for entertainment news or show then suddenly a news caught my attention. ‘Breaking news one of the hottest supermodel now in America Miss Shane Sandoval is in a relationship now with her co-model Alexa Gray.’ My tears ran down to my face immediately watching Shane’s interview together with her new partner. They’re so sweet together, like a perfect couple of the century. I stand up but my legs are shaking and my body is trembling in anger. I'm lost now. I lost the woman that I love so dearly with all of my heart because of that one stupid mistake.

He'd stopped mentioning it. Some things were allowed to be imperfect. Some things were allowed to be his. This was a lesson that had taken him longer than he wanted to admit. He was a perfectionist—not in the casual way that people used the word, but in the actual way, the way that meant the gap between what he could imagine and what he could execute was a source of constant low-grade frustration. He had spent years trying to close that gap, trying to make the thing he made match the thing he imagined, trying to eliminate the distance between vision and reality.

"Why also praise stories like that? Are there no other books that are of higher quality?" "Hahaha... that's why, you better read before commenting. It's like you've judged someone 100% bad even though you've only met them for a few days. That's an unfair judgment!" "I only caught what I saw!" "That means your thinking is shallow!" "All right... all right, so what's the point of the story?" "Why don't you just read it yourself?" "Just tell me!" "Hahaha...well, the point is about a man who is said to be the most desirable man, has a perfect life, yes everything. His goal is to conquer as many women as possible as a manifestation of his childhood trauma disorder."

"Have you lost your mind? How can you expect me to use it when it's all spilled on the floor? What exactly are you trying to pull here, Queenie? "You're deliberately trying to gross me out, aren't you? How could I possibly use something so filthy? You must have lost it, Queenie." "This perfume costs a fortune, Helena! You should be considerate of me and give it a try!" Queenie insisted as she tried to fling the perfume-stained tissue at me. I glared at her and asked coldly, "Don't you think you're going too far, Queenie? How could you force me to use damaged goods? Do you honestly think I'm your personal trash can?"

Hundreds, if not thousands, and I wanted the best of the best. "Miss Blackman, transfer all the calls to my mailbox and join me in here so we can go through these together," I said, daring not to touch any application until I had help. "Yes sir," she answered with a smile and withdrew quickly. I liked that about Miss Blackman. She was always cheerful and up for any task or challenge I threw her way. _______________ "This one is too shallow." " Too deep and egotistical." "Too short." "Too self expressive."

I met her gaze and casually said, “I needed a break.” “From . . . reading your files?” she drawled. I nodded. “And you chose to read that?” I turned the book to read its title—ten ways to know you’re doing it right. Of course, I had to pick this. ‘Ten ways to know you’re a narcissist’ would’ve suited this piece of shit better. No one would’ve expected me to pick up that. I shrugged, crossing a leg over the other and flipped through the pages. “Being perfect takes a lot of effort.”

“I’m glad that you are ready to take a step forward in your life and on your own terms. That’s great progress worthy of a celebration, Martin.” “Don’t be too happy about this, though. I’m prepared to be rejected by multiple firms, but I think it’s better than not even trying.” “What is the reason for this decision?” “I just want her to be proud of me. Celine, I mean. I want to be a perfect person for her.” Martin said. He always thinks about Celine when it comes to his life decisions. “Martin, do you know that another enemy is your perfectionism?” He frowned immediately when he heard that.

Her brilliant insights during discussion, her flawless answers during the tests, the faultless work she always complete ahead of time and the very essence of perfection within her! Everything she did, she was praised, no matter how stupid it was. She was like their perfect little angle. No, more like the devil who wrapped them in her pretty little finger! She was always first while I, a second-rate. I tried my best to compete and even tried to assassinate and frame her, but that witch was the embodiment of perfection! The audacity of that b*tch!