[Arthur doesn't even have to think about calculating his reaction; he lets out a scoff as soon as she calls him "nice." Nobody thinks he's nice, because he's not. He's a prick on the outside, and deep down, he's weak. Weak, pathetic, and sad. Really, only his mum would miss him if he never came back.

But that's why he's trying so hard. Spite is a powerful motivator.

He's quickly letting his emotions take the reins, allowing his resentment to flow through him. It's easy in everyday life, and it's even easier now, when his nerves are so strained by their circumstances.] If I seem so nice, how come you've never spoken to me before? [In his self-loathing and defensiveness, at least, he's forgotten his baser desires. There's only room for bitterness.] Now isn't exactly the time to be making friends.

If you think I'm not playing to win, you need to look a bit more carefully.