The question seemed to cause him physical pain. He cringed, dragging both hands down his face and balling up in his chair. Somewhere in his mind - or Brian's mind, he observed bitterly - he knew that he was being childish. But he had never admitted this to another person before. Nobody in the universe knew that Max Jordan, life of the party; Max Jordan, sorority slut banger; Max Jordan, murderer extraordinaire; didn't even exist. Not even Brian knew. It was the ultimate secret, something that only existed because one person knew. To the rest of the world, he was a dynamic psycho that happily flitted from party to party. Nobody else would wise up. Nobody else would know.
But Brian was already questioning. "Harry's" identity was the question du jour, and his internet history was filled with websites about "English Harry" or "English Henry." He was even thinking about going to that psychic woman upstairs. Though Max put no stock in such nonsense, he knew that Bellum bred a strange type of people. In the real world, psychics were bullshit. In Bellum, they might be able to tell Brian everything he wanted to know.
"Yes," he finally said, dropping his feet to the floor. His fingers were still dug into his hair, constantly touching and caressing his scalp and face. He listed to the side, leaning against the arm of the chair before sitting up again. Everything in him was moving; his entire body was in a constant state of flux. "I-I'm sorry, I've...never told anyone this before." He laughed, the sound forced and hollow. "There's a part of me, Vlad...that..." He bit on his lower lip, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.
The bruise on his face had faded significantly, but it was still a ghost on his cheek, brushing butterfly kisses against his nose. He dropped his hands, heaving a dry wheeze, before looking at the other man. "So I guess...I'll say it this way." He looked almost close to tears as he took a huge breath. "While I was in France, I heard my fable. Story. Tale. Whatever. And." Pausing, he pressed his hands against his knees, pushing on the joints as he stared intently at Vlad, resolved to not break eye contact. "I'm Mr. Hyde."