The lighting is dim in his apartment except for a few lamps. It is a modernised space, not really designed for comfort. It has a nice view of the city though.

Max is sat on the sofa, a crystal glass of whisky in his hand. He lifts it up to his lips and takes a generous swig of the amber liquid. It burns his throat as he swallows it, a sting he finds strangely pleasurable.

In his other hand is his phone, the light projected from it reflects in his eyes. He looks down at the screen infront of him, his brows slightly furrowed as he concentrates on it.

Max is a very skilled con artist. He is extremely good at lying and is very manipulative. However, once he knows he can completely trust you, a soft part of him can gradually be released.