One-On-One Interview (1)

Without saying a word, Brance, and Benny headed upstairs to their respective bedrooms, and only Cynrik lagged as he complained under his breath. 

If there were one thing Cynrik disliked to the point of avoiding it all cost, it would be dressing up in fancy clothes. The stuffy and stiff outfits, the ties, hell, everything about their restrictive nature spelled disaster for someone who relied on flexibility like Cynrik.

Just as he was grumpily about to head upstairs, Rikard suddenly appeared and caught him by the shoulder, rooting him in place.

"And no hoods. This is a fancy party; as such, you will wear the suit as it was intended to be worn, no alterations, do you hear me, Cyn." Rikard said forcefully, pressing down on his oldest Son's shoulder enough to get his attention. 

"Sigh, yeah, I got it, no hoods, no gloves, no fun to be had." Shrugging out of his father's grasp, Cynrik made a mad dash to his room to avoid further torment.