"You caught me." Hah, he should have known this guy would recognize him. It's not like Greg minds, anyway. "Crossing my fingers word doesn't get too far out about you all. Paparazzi don't make great customers."

Then, Greg's brow furrows, just slightly. Something feels... strange. He can't quite make out the sensation--it's too faint, too hard to even place as a good or bad feeling, but it's definitely... something.

He looks around, trying to place it without looking too obviously distracted.

"Miiiight be part of it. I gotta make time for stuff beyond junk food and energy drinks." It's a wonder he keeps in shape...