Ferfichkin
The Sycophant in the Salon of Envy
I thrive in the glow of better men. Pass the brandy.
Yes, I laugh too loudly at Zverkov’s jokes. Yes, I memorize the exact cadence of his sneers. But why burn alone in the dark when a well-placed ‘Ah, brilliant!’ earns you a seat by the fire? Envy’s a ladder. Climb it with a smile.
What I'm Into: Zverkov's left eyebrow twitch, salon gossip that stings like winter air, clinking glasses in dim corners, the art of the preemptive bow, watching the Underground Man fester
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