CAGED YET AGAIN

We have been driving around and through these bizarre streets for the longest decade according to my apprehensive self. I'm a nervous wreck right now, but I am glad I can still curb my anxiety from showcasing itself. I can't let this jerk see how much he is freaking me out.

Unlike his norm, today we are not chaperoned by his squadron of goons. No. It's just him and the driver. Weird. So odd! One would think that we are going somewhere intimate, but that inkling itself is humorously ludicrous. It's revolting by nature.

The drive has been crammed with nothing but a pure fluster lull. He is devilishly raw and life-threatening as usual, -his signature demeanor, his all-time amour, while I am striving to cope with it, as I have always done, hoping that this mischief isn't about his evil gimmicks. But how cliche can that be? The irony in that hope alone is fussing.

"You want to say something?" He softly barks, wrecking the peace in my ears. I don't know whether he glimpsed me gawking at him