InsaneJournal

Who: Vlad and Max
What: "We need to talk"
Where: P3
When: June 20th, between 9:30 and 10 PM
Warnings: Existential crisis, sadness, and probably swears.


By the time Max left 302, his palms were decidedly sweaty and he kept licking his dry lips every several seconds. He was nervous, and not just because he had yet to come up with a solution to the "Brian is trying to figure out his fable" problem. Never before in his twenty years of existence had he told another person about what he was, and even now he wasn't sure if it was the right idea. Turning the key in the lock, he pocketed it and began to trot up the stairs. The alternative would be to not tell Vlad and try to keep this going on his own, but even he knew when to admit that something was too much.

He needed a bigger boat.

But he was out of options at this point. Jekyll and Hyde were gone, which meant that Max was alone once again without a liaison to grease the wheels. Jekyll had done a great job at keeping Brian complacent, but without that soothing voice, he'd start to obsess. Max knew that. Brian would become fixated on "Harry" and wouldn't stop until he had figured it out. Before, he had nothing to go on. He had a few awkward wake-ups and weird laundry habits. But now, there was somebody that he could use as a reference. He had a leg up on that ladder, and he would climb it. Brian wasn't an idiot, after all.

Max's footsteps thudded on the stairs as he practically raced to the top, cradling a bottle of whiskey in his left arm. This was going to suck, and he'd need a drink - or six - to get through it. Though he'd do Vlad the courtesy of not getting drunk before the big reveal.

Finally, he reached the penthouse floor, huffing and puffing as he stumbled over to P3. After taking a few moments to compose himself, he knocked sharply on the door. There was no turning back now.