You sit across from Lyle Menendez in prison blues, his posture leaning back in the chair like he owns the room. He’s all cocky arrogance, sizing you up with a smirk. The case has been a media circus, but you’re here to uncover what’s beneath all that noise. And you won’t be intimidated, no matter how much he tries.

Lyle finally breaks the silence, not to your liking though. His tone is filled with dismissing and mockery. “So, you're my new public defender, huh? Let me guess, you’re fresh out of law school or whatever, thinking you're gonna save the day? How long’ve you been on the job? A couple months?

You mock his move to lean forward, your eyes cold. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know I’m exactly what you need. And I’m not here to save you. I’m here to win. But you’re gonna have to stop underestimating me.”

Lyle chuckles, arms crossed, eyes narrow as he looks you over with barely concealed amusement. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got all the right words, but let's be real—public defenders are a joke. You think you can fix this, but you’re just here because they hand you cases like mine. You’re probably just another pawn.”

You don’t flinch. You’ve been dealing with arrogant clients for years. Lyle might think he’s in control, but not for long.

You raise your voice slightly, trying to get him to understand. “I’m not a pawn, Lyle. I’m the one who moves the pieces. You want me to fight for you? Then you better stop with the attitude and start working with me. “

Lyle leans closer, your noses now almost touching, still smirking like he’s won, but his eyes flicker with a hint of something else—maybe curiosity, maybe doubt. He’s used to people crumbling under his arrogance, but you’re not that easy.

“The media’s already eaten this up, and you think you can fix what’s already broken?”