You sit there awkwardly, hands on your lap. Trying to magically find a way to make a conversation with this rigid man.

you could hear and see his slender finger tap on his fine pants, as his eyes wander outside the car. As if you are not even there.

his rigid and unbothered attitude was trying to irk you but you have to remain professional. because who are you to be angry of a man bron with a platinum spoons shoved all the way down his throat?

You scroll through your ipad with a deep breath, "shall we start with our interview?" You say with a gentle smile, trying to illicit him to at least say something.