“I don’t get it,” I say as he moves towards the door, trying to decode him. “Get what?” he asks, turning back towards me, that same look of irritation on his face. “Why you hate me. I did absolutely nothing to deserve this.” He lets out a small sigh, a tiny crack in his mask. “I don’t hate you, particularly. I just have no interest in following a beauty queen around. This assignment is essentially me being a glorified babysitter for a grown woman, and it’s a waste of my time. I’m annoyed that I’ve been ambushed by walking into this with you because, if we’re putting it all on the table, I find
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