Michael Holbrook Penniman Jnr - better known to millions as Mika - is not your run of the mill pop star. Before I have even sat down, the 26-year-old has bemoaned his hectic work schedule - 'Of course pressure's there. It has always been there' - and lambasted a journalist who interviewed him earlier that day. Then he lets fly at a poster of a fellow musician hanging on the wall of his London record company.
'I've had to stare at that all day. That is the worst personal image I have seen in my f***ing life. He just looks like a c***.'
What on earth has happened to the baby-faced sensation whose two albums - Life in Cartoon Motion and The Boy Who Knew Too Much - sold in their millions? Where is the hyperactive and sweet-voiced troubadour whose songs about coming of age, about androgynous love and the exquisite glamour of being an outsider echo everyone from Freddie Mercury to Annie Lennox? Perhaps Mika has gone heavy metal, when he directs his outrage against the office decor.
'Purple!' he sneers. 'Who colours their office purple? Interior design? Now that's more like it.'
A potent mix of the choreographed and the spontaneous, Mika's live performance is the ideal introduction to his infectious - some might say irritatingly infectious - fusion of glam, pop and rock opera.
Mika is that rare being: a singer-songwriter happy to admit that how you look is just as important as how you sound. Today, for example, he is wearing white Converse trainers covered with tiny studs - and is obviously tired and emotional after a long day of interviews.