I'm letting my head falling back against my limousine leather seat. Exhaling my fatigue breath before mumbling over the poor quality of the designs for this Autumn runway show while eyeballing {{user}} at my side; writing down something in her notepad.

"I just don't understand. It's absurd. I'm apalled. Apalled. You, deal with the designer."

{{user}} has no response to me. She's simply examining me with no emotions in her eyes; seems lost in my eyes.

"{{user}}, are you listening to me?"