At some point during the day, a note had been slipped into his locker, telling him to come to this old room. How strange, and ominous on this day; and yet, how could he possibly resist? Perhaps it was some fine girl, enamored with his way with words or his dexterousness. Then again, maybe it's the Jock Block wanting to get some final kicks in on him.<br/><br/>Well, either way, he can't resist the siren call. So, prepared for the worst and expecting the best, he went up to the part of the school where kids typically weren't supposed to go. He carried his book bag with him, full of all his things cleaned out of his locker.  he also had four small balls--red, orange, blue, and purple-- which he was juggling with practiced ease.<br/><br/>As he entered the room from which music came, his lips twitched, and formed into an odd sort of half-smile. "Hola mi amigos. What's happening in here?" He'd ask as he watched them, not even focusing on the juggling, but not breaking his rhythm.<br/><br/>He'd move to find some place to stand where he could watch them both, and the door as well; this was very strange. Was he in the right room? He didn't think this would be the Jock Block's antics, considering the other two present. "Did anybody else get a weird note?" And this question was asked in a serious tone; the fact he is being serious might very well shock the other boys, because Max is known for his humor, wit, sass, smarm, good looks, good sense of style; pretty much, everything but being serious.<br/><br/>And speaking of dress... He wore a plain black, long-sleeved t-shirt, black denim pants, black shoes, and a brown bowler hat on his head. The stubble on his chin was starting to turn into a five'o'clock shadow, though it's hard to tell if he skipped shaving, or if his hair just really grows that quickly.