After a few moments, the audience's enthusiasm subsided, but my frustration only grew. I gazed deep into her eyes, my own expression grave and serious, it looked like I had murder on my mind.
A visible unease began to grip the interviewer, evident in the subtle tremor of her fingers and the furrowed lines on her forehead. She was bewildered by the abrupt shift in my behavior.
Summoning every ounce of composure, I drew in a slow, measured breath and gracefully crossed my legs trying to look professional. It was as though a switch had been flipped, instantly transforming my energy and projecting an aura of utmost seriousness.
