"Yeah, they were a little weirded out but never pushed it." He sighed. But "magic amnesia" would only go so far. At least Brian had been diagnosed as a sleepwalker - if he really got in hot water, that was an easy way out. But still, he'd have to play his cards right, because nothing in this life was easy. "And probably not," he replied to Vlad's question. "I come out when Brian falls asleep. Unless he falls asleep before sunset, he's the one changing."
The question about Blonde Girl made him groan. "Does it really?" He sighed, digging his nails into the sides of his head. "Fuck. See, this is why you never, ever leave them alive." He pointed a finger at Vlad. "This is why I always kill them. I don't know why I didn't. I. Ugh!" After a bit more whining and fussing, he finally settled into using real English words.
"I'm sure Blonde Girl has a name, but I don't know it." Twisting his fingers around one another, he tried to organize the story in his head. "We met a few years ago, when Brian was having...a few issues with his wife." Issues Max had exacerbated, but Vlad didn't need to know that. "So he was pissed off, so I was pissed off. So I was cruising bars, and I met this little blonde girl. Pretty, in a broken way. She was always banged up, bruised up, looked like somebody had starved her and thrown her in a cage. She had some problem at home, I...don't remember anymore."
He scratched his head. "So we met up for about a month. We'd talk, go to bars, that kinda thing. Then one day, I..." He started to trail off for a moment, voice growing vague. "I just looked at her and felt...something. Something inside me that just couldn't stay quiet anymore. I balled up my fist and just..." He swung a fist through the air, catching it in his other hand with a sharp "smack" sound. "Bam. And once I started, I couldn't stop. I just...kept hitting her and hitting her and hitting her until finally I turned and ran before somebody saw."
Sighing, he sank to rest his chin in his hands. "So a week or so after Brian moves in here, I'm in the lobby, at the mailboxes. And this blonde chick shows up. She recognizes me. And she's yelling, and all "girl power," and "why did you do this to me," blah blah blah. Then? She starts hitting me." Most men would be ashamed of admitting that they had been beaten up by a girl. To Max, the shame was the same as if it had been a man. Why? Because he shouldn't have to take that shit from anyone. "She went to town. And all I could think of was trying to protect this body so Brian wouldn't wake up all fucked up."
With a groan, he gestured to the bruise on his left cheek. It was very faint now, nearly healed, but its ghost was still present. "See that? Blonde girl. This entire body is just covered. Most of them are healed now, but...when he woke up, let's say he wasn't happy." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leaned against the arm of the chair. "She doesn't know about Brian, obviously, and they haven't run into each other yet."