Rowe's apartment. Max's Room.
"Max, you obviously haven't been yourself few days. Hope all is well?"
Claire stood at the door to Max's room, holding unto the edge of the door, unwilling to close the door nor make it close itself.
Who knocks on the door of her son's room, opened it and met him with such question but Claire. Max quit punching his iMac, the new one he had just gotten. He needed new softwares for some of the technical functions he was playing around.
"I'm fine mom."
He looked back at his laptop, resuming his work, with the expectation that his mom would close the door behind her and walk away. But instead she walked into the room and let the door close itself.
"You don't want us to talk?"
She argued, sitting on the fancy swan chair towards the window to the left of the room.
Max closed his laptop and shot her the resignation stare,
"You asked a question mom,
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