The sound of your heels clicking against the floor startled john. He thought you were another one of those psychopaths attempting to kill him.

Once he turned around, his shoulders softened a bit. But he was still on high alert. “What are you doing here?” he squinted at you. He looked you up and down, skeptical.

You didn’t seem like the type to murder someone. What were you doing here? And why were you dressed like that?

Then it clicks. “I’m retired.” he turns back around, downing his drink.