Novel & Cerita Opinions Questions

“She’s not wrong.” “What do you mean? I ask questions all the time. I think I annoy people with how many questions I ask.” “Those are training questions or school questions. This is a boy question, otherwise you would have brought everyone in and gotten opinions.” My jaw drops open. “Stop derailing the conversation and ask your question.” She claps and jumps up on the bed motioning Jena to follow.

I should be addressing them, but I stood stiffly beside him, trying not to tell them to shove their damned opinions up their asses. "Any questions?" Robert asked. "Yeah," Someone said, a snarky look on his face. "When does the real CEO arrive?" Robert glared at him. "If there aren't any more reasonable questions-" "I have a reasonable question," Another guy raised his hand. He had to be the only one who didn't look like he hated my guts. He pointed at me as he continued. "And she has to answer it." Okay, I could do this. "Go ahead,"

You had to get yourself out of the shitter. "Do you want my personal opinion or my unbiased one?" I asked and hobbled closer to her. She seemed to take me in the closer I got. Devoured me inch for inch. Couldn't settle on the one she wanted. I saw the cogs turn in her mind. Wheels spun and smoke was about to appear when she finally spoke. "First tell me why you have a personal opinion about them. How do you know them? What have they done wrong that I haven't found out about yet?" I couldn't escape those piercing eyes of hers. Or the intensity of the room.

Guess what his answer was? "No" *****************************************

“They look stuck.” “I think they are. It’s an unconventional question after all. We expected they’d ask questions on this topic but with it still being just largely based on theories and hypothesise giving an answer is seemingly hard. Everything you say is right, but knowing which one gets you the mark is the only downside. In other words, it’s a trap.” Sighing, Jon rubs his neck looking from our group to the judges. “Have a little faith man.” I say tapping his shoulder, with a light chuckle.

he asks. And I almost laugh. Almost. But the sound dies before it can even form. “That’s one way to put it,” I murmur. “You were shaking….” My head snaps back toward him instantly. “I was not,” I defend myself. “You were.” “I wasn’t,” I retort. “You still are,” he insists. My breath catches. Damn it. I hate how easily he says things like that. Like he’s stating facts, not opinions. Like he’s already decided what’s true and there’s no point arguing it.

she said mimicking those people. “Some would even tell me that they could never do such a thing,” she said. “Well, that was just rude. They are not you so they shouldn’t make such comments,” I said, and she nodded. “But I do have a question for you,” I said, and she looked at me curiously. “Are you happy?” I asked her and she smiled before nodding. “Then people’s opinions shouldn’t matter at all, as long as you are happy then they can go and fuck themselves,” I said which made her chuckle.

And this made me think she might have a hand in this whole turn of events. “Public Opinion?” I repeated. “What is the public opinion? Do you mean that the managers are making their decisions based on the rumors they hear?” I asked, as I stared daggers at the director, my expression demanding a direct and valid answer. “Well,” the director said as he avoided my eyes, shifting and adjusting his posture on the chair he sat on. “It’s complicated. To ensure the film is a success, it requires making some tough decisions” he said, raising his head and locking eyes with me.

"What do you think?" "What do I... think?" I cock my head slightly, taking her in, but also thinking to myself. No one has really asked my opinion on anything before. At least not on anything like this. In the facility they would ask but those were assessments to see whether or not I was doing well enough for their program. They didn't actually care for the conversation. They certainly didnt care about physical things and how they looked the way Emma obviously does. She cares how she looks, how she feels, how other people see her, how other people feel. She's genuinely curious about the world around her and it matters to her how they function. She cares about my opinion, I think, unless she'

“I need to see it.” His jaw flexed. “You don’t need to absorb that.” “I do,” I countered, forcing my voice to stay steady. “This is what we chose yesterday, remember? Transparency. That means I don’t get to hide when it turns ugly.” “It’s not ugly,” he said sharply. “It’s misinformation.” “It’s opinion,” I corrected. “And it matters, whether we like it or not.” He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair before stepping closer. “Public opinion doesn’t get to define you.”