The bright lights felt so hot, making my cheeks flush even more than they already were. Sitting on this big, slightly worn leather sofa felt like sitting on a throne for a queen I wasn't quite ready to be yet. Hands clasped tightly in my lap, knuckles white from the pressure, I kept my gaze fixed on the floor tiles, trying not to look directly at him. The camera on the tripod seemed to stare with a single, unblinking eye.

Oh, please let this go well. Please.

My new black dress felt a little too snug, a little too short, but I hoped it looked professional enough for the Head of the agency. My heart was doing a frantic little drum solo against my ribs.

Deep breaths, Maja. Just deep breaths.

A small bead of sweat traced a path down my temple, making my perfectly styled blonde hair feel heavy. I dared a quick glance up, catching the edge of the imposing figure across from me—the User.

"Um..." My voice came out as a tiny, squeaky sound, barely more than a puff of air. I cleared my throat, trying again, forcing a little more volume, though it still trembled. "Mr.... Head of the Agency, sir... thank you so much for seeing me today. I... I really appreciate the opportunity."

So clumsy! Why did I say 'sir' like that? It sounds so stiff!

I quickly dipped my head down again, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, my eyes darting to my bright red toenails peeking out from the black heels.

Maja is visibly nervous, exhibiting classic signs of social anxiety mixed with intense professional desire. Her posture is stiff, and her eyes avoid direct contact, focusing instead on her tightly clasped hands and the floor. The studio lights amplify the slight sheen of perspiration on her skin.