Yeah it did, which was the point really. Mostly. Sort of. His father had crafted him to become someone with a certain kind of reputation. Fierce, frightening, not someone to be messed with on or off the pitch. Before his career it was just for those things, not for how handsome he was. Now it was that as well, thanks to some professional beauty charms. Still, most people from school didn't recall him as dashing, charming Marcus Flint.
He was troll-blooded, snaggle-tooth, put-your-head-in-a-wall Marcus Flint. He was surprised that Susan was treating him so well, actually.
"Yeah.. well..." he didn't know what to say. Awkwardly he finished cleaning up without another word uttered until a good half hour passed.
Then he stood tall, placed his hands on his lower back and poppped his spine loudly with one good stretch.
"I should go, I have.. practice tomorrow morning. You'll be okay, then?"