While Will was joking, Fisher took his words into serious consideration. It was incredible, thinking that he was the kind of person people felt comfortable around, that they could open up to. Lord knew he didn't intentionally encourage it. But it also meant that he brought out sadness in people, that he must be depressing because everyone cried around him, even people who never cried, people who hadn't cried in over a hundred years.
Taking a long, long drink, Fisher chugged down a considerable amount of scotch. He wiped the dribble off his mouth with his sleeve, effects of Will's cocktail hitting him full force. "I make people cry," he said seriously. "I always have. Everyone I know has cried in front of me. I'm like this... happiness black hole, I just make people miserable..." His voice trailed off, the depressors in the alcohol kicking in.