[There isn't enough contact to disrupt the illusion, but — contact at all is its own novelty, a brush of physical bodies where once he had surrounded himself in perfect distance from the rest of the world. And he is no one here, so it is not improper, even if he wasn't wearing his disguise. No one would recognize him. He'd anticipated the feeling after his departure, and it was not enough to prepare him for its reality.

Sunday takes a breath, masking his unease, and then offers the young man a smile. He's not very good at pretending to be someone else — but if there is no suspicion turned his way, and nothing to compare his behavior to, what could it hurt?]

Truth be told, I was looking to get rid of them. So this is merely serendipity.

[He isn't naive. That question is... a challenge, in some way, though he can't perceive its motive.]

I'm afraid I don't have much else to offer. [Ah. Except — this disguise has status, doesn't it? Or he wouldn't be here.] What would you prefer? I could buy you a drink.