Even the little tap to his hair caused Phoenix to start, looking around quickly before his eyes settled on the item that had bounced from his head and landed next to his glass of juice. He stared at the folded paper in confusion for a second, until he noticed the impress of handwriting on it. Phoenix hadn't had a note thrown at him in years. At least this one wasn't a paper airplane. The novelty of those getting flown into the back of head and consequently stuck there had worn off by third grade.

The piece of origami was actually surprisingly skillful, and Phoenix didn't have any trouble discerning the form of a tiny, white mug. He'd already been turning in his seat to see who'd thrown it, but that one detail made it that much easier to zero on on a glimpse of white hair and red-tinted glasses before the crowd swallowed it up. Sighing, he turned around in his seat again, glancing to the woman beside him. He didn't blame her for being startled. She'd obviously been injured at some point - a rough night or two here was enough to make anyone gunshy of things flying at them.

"I'm sorry about him," he apologized, corner of his mouth curling in an apologetic half-smile. He took it as granted anymore that he was going to have crazy people sniping at him over grudges, but he still felt bad when bystanders got caught up in it. "He must be bored today."