Mild spoilers for S1's "5G," but this is set in the beginning of S4.
Who is Donald Draper?
All he hears is Adam's voice, wrapped around the innocent words. Sees a smile, broad and earnest, bright against the background of Deelite's clown-colorful walls: You got a wife? Kids?
He didn't want to talk, then; it required being raw. Vulnerable. He doesn't want to talk now, not for a reporter who will twist the words into whatever suits his byline. Not for housewives in fraying robes, folding down page corners and circling paragraphs to discuss with husbands over drinks: See how interesting advertising is, darling?
This reporter, slick and prying, is nothing like Adam. But in the end, both men are (were?) looking for the same answer.
I don't understand. I just want to be a part of your life.
What Adam barely grasped – what this stranger never will – is that Don Draper, such as he is, only represents life in the simplest sense. The name's not a cipher for identity. It's an embossed typeface on a glossy page; a brand meant to draw allure and leave the buyer wanting at the peak of satisfaction. Sibilant on the tongue. Nothing more, nothing less.
But, you can't put that in print. So, he's silent.