He slips back into the mask easily. Haunted, hunted, drifting and lonely, just a wayward lost boy who still hasn't figured out that he's supposed to be the predator, not the prey. It's simple enough to channel that person; he's had so much experience being some fragile, broken thing.

And hey, the way it looks: maybe those blackouts Fenix read about really spooked Jeff. They certainly seem to have left some kind of an impression on him.

"You're here. I didn't know if, um... If you'd actually..." His gaze seems to drift, from Fenix to some invisible distraction, dancing beyond the corners of his eyes. Then Jeff blinks, and seems to focus again. He shoots a quick, apologetic smile, there and gone. "If we really talked on the phone or not."