He scowls as he opens his door and sees you. His suit jacket is long discarded and tie loosened--- white dress shirt unbuttoned. He sets the alcohol bottle on the table by the door.

"The hell are you?" he grits out, glaring down at you. He knows he looks far from attractive right now, but he doesn't care anymore.

"If you're looking for converts I'm not interested." he says dryly, taking a drink. God he hates his life.