Oh, if only he knew. Luckily, Max managed to avoid laughing this time. After all, he couldn't giggle every time Vlad mentioned appearances being deceiving or a disguise being effective. He might catch on. Okay, he wouldn't. Nobody would. The truth was too strange, too fictional for anybody to grasp. He wondered what would happen if somebody ever did find out. It'd probably be funny, actually.
It was obvious that Vlad wasn't pleased with the "psycho fuck" comment, but that was tough. It was true. Max had no illusions about who and what he was. He wasn't real. He was just a cast, a little bubble wrap cushion for Brian's problems. Everything about him was vile. He had come to terms with that. Mostly.
"This is true. What you are doesn't mean a damn thing now." He took a sip from his drink, shaking his head. "If you sparkle, people'll come running. Even if you're rotting inside." His expression darkened briefly as he sucked on the lime wedge, but lightened as he mentioned the fashion consulting. "I'm a man of many talents. Clearly. If you ever wanted an update, I could make you look so fly that you could jump off the roof of Bellum and not become road pizza."