❛ REASON NUMBER TWO❜ no private life. ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
you stared at the host, indirectly glaring at the man holding the microphone in his veiny hand. you hated everything about this interview. your blood boiled instantaneously and the pit in your stomach enforced a pain you couldn't express even with your facial expressions.
"how was shopping with your mum?" the man smiled, asking you a question. it evidently went through one ear and out the other, as you cleared your throat and regained your posture.
"it was nice," you said, lying. "we had a great time. especially since a lot of fans came and said a polite hello to my mum. my mum enjoyed it very very much."
you internally rolled your eyes, as you glanced at the clock, begging for it to go faster with your delinquent eyes. your eyes were filled with tiredness and you just couldn't wait to get home! the leisure of having an aromatic bath flung into your mind, grasping most of your attention away from the man you couldn't even recognise.
clearly your agency didn't educate you enough. and your heart dropped at the thought of failing.
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