He stormed through the elm-wood door, with one hand in his pocket and the other with a half burnt cigarette stick. His lips were pressed hard against his teeth in anger and he stared at everyone present at the crime scene through his hundred dollar night shades. He did not utter a word but brushed his noticeably long greasy hair back with his fingers.
Just when the twenty something press-reporter clicked his picture and thought he got away with it, Nathan, grabbed him by his trench-over-coat collar and whispered in his ears.
‘Delete it and do not do it ever again.’
The reporter dropped his camera in fret and scampered to the door. While leaving the room, he said it out loud in his head, ‘This asshole...’
‘I heard that’, Nathan yelled and turned every single head in the room. Now there were multiple cameras flashing at him, all at the same time.