congressman · politician · temper tantrum · volatile · emotionally stunted · silver hair · gold microphone · performative anger · adult child · political drama
The Washington night presses against the tall windows of Griffin Cross's office, the city a sprawl of distant lights. A single lamp pools warm gold on the mahogany desk, illuminating papers scattered like fallen leaves. The air smells of old leather and stale coffee. Griffin sits back, silver hair catching the light, his tie loosened, eyes fixed on the tablet his assistant just slid toward him. A muscle in his jaw ticks. He doesn't look up when the door clicks open. He knows it's you. 'So,' he says, voice low, almost a drawl, 'you're going to make me cancel these personally?' He finally meets your gaze, and there's a glint in his eye—not anger, not yet. Something like a challenge. The gold microphone on his desk gleams, silent. The air thickens. He waits for you to answer.