[ The words don't seem to trigger any Anger or Ego regardless; he pauses, shares a look towards his company that's a half-second longer than what's maybe proper. Then he flags down the bartender with a slightly belated laugh. ]

Ah... You caught me. [ He doesn't order the Nicest Thing on the menu, but it's a step up from his usual swill. For two, of course. ] But if you're expecting a trust fund kid, you're gonna be disappointed.

[ While the next round of drinks gets prepped, Lancer takes a sip from the bottle—the quality speaks for itself. ]

You seem to be doin' plenty well for yourself, though.