Re: Max and Demi, 2:30
From the looks of it, Max had startled the woman, which made him feel like an even bigger a-hole than he already felt. First, he couldn't stand to be in a room with happy people and then secondly he slammed into an unsuspecting lady. Max steps back, not wanting to invade her space any more than he already has. On top of that, he is still a little shaky from the inadvertent run in right when he was feeling anxious. It wouldn't hurt to give her some distance in case his nerves got the better of him...he wouldn't want to accidentally upset his drink on her in addition to already doing so to himself.
"Oh yeah, of course I'm okay," Max blusters for a moment before remembering that he was a terrible liar. He sighs and shuffles his feet. He doesn't know this woman; she doesn't deserve to be inundated with his emotional baggage out of nowhere. Still, it appears as she had been hiding, too. Maybe she was feeling a bit out of place among the revelry, just like him.
"I mean, not really," he admits, looking in the vicinity of his toes. "It's such a nice get together, really awesome people and their happy families having a great time. It's just...sometimes you're not so much in a party mood? You want to be, you need to be, even. But you can't help but feel it's sort of.. obscene? To be happy? When people you love can't be here to enjoy it, too?"
Oh, God, he was talking too much. Too many feelings were escaping through his food hole. Abort. Abort verbal diarrhea immediately. Try and replicate the actions of a normal, human being that isn't a total baby.
He clears his throat roughly, sets his drink down on a nearby ledge, and wipes his hands as best he can on his slacks.
"I'm sorry, I'm really terrible at small talk, apparently. Let me start over. Hi. I'm sorry for literally bumping into you. I'm Max. I'd, uh, shake but I have a bad case of gin hands."
He holds up his still-damp hand and grins a small, embarrassed smile.