Jeff was sitting in the Smackdown locker room, a place where he shouldn't be. Back in August, he lost to his rival CM Punk. He knew that Punk hated his guts, but he hated how things were left. Standing there in Punks locker room, he watched Punk beat up on his older brother Matt. Jeff would have gone out there and stopped it if he were still on the Smackdown roster.

When the match ended, Punk walked up the ramp leaving Matt lying flat in the ring. Jeff knew Matt was going to be in a lot of pain, but he wasn't there to see Matt, he was there to see Punk. Jeff stood up against his locker, wearing blue jeans. His chest was consumed of a baby blue T-shirt with a wool coat on top.

Punk walked into his locker room, not even noticing Jeff. He headed towards the shower when Jeff parted his lips and spoke, "Hey Punk."

Hearing Jeff's voice, Punk turned around and saw him. He wasn't very happy seeing him. "What do you want?" He asked in a grouchy tone.

"Easy there Punk, I didn't come here to beat you up. I just wanted to say something."

"Well get to it, then leave."

Jeff shook his head, stepping away from his locker. "You really think all I am into is drugs? Well I have news for you. I haven't had any drugs since I left. You do not need to try and turn the fans against me." After saying that, Jeff turned around and left.

Phil took a sigh as he watched Jeff leave. He had thought that feud was over with. His hand ran threw is sweat covered locks. Maybe Jeff did have a point. Phil just stepped into the shower after stripping off his ring gear. The thoughts of Jeff leaving entered his mind. "What did he mean?"

After Phil's shower, he got dressed, still feeling pain from his match. Grabbing his bag, he headed out of the locker room and out to the parking lot. As he got to the exit, he bumped into Matt. Phil didn't say anything; he just glared at Matt, waiting for him to get out of the way.

Once Matt stepped out of Phil's way, he headed out the door. Reaching the rental car, his bags were just tossed in the back seat. Sitting in the driver's seat, he rested his head on the headrest. His mind was thinking of Jeff. The images of him leaving kept entering his mind. "Come on Phil, get yourself together," he spoke as he laid his hands on the steering wheel. The engine soon rumbled as he pulled out, heading to the hotel for the night.

After a while of driving, Phil pulled up at the hotel he was staying at. His body didn't want to pick up his bags, so he left them in the rental. He then headed inside wanting to get right to his bed. He grabbed the key card from his pants pocket as he entered the hotel lobby. Passing right by the front desk, he headed to the elevator. At times, it seemed like he felt Jeff was following him.

Once he got to his room, he left his door opened a crack. His body fell down on the bed. Phil didn't want to take another shower, or sit in hot water to relax better. He was way too tired to shut his room door. Any crazy fan could just storm in and end up in his bed with him. Lucky for him, Phil was on the fifth floor where the fans weren't allowed to go.

As his eyes closed, he felt himself fall into a deep sleep. Phil could forget anything that was on his mind, well all but Jeff. The words that were spoken by Jeff floated around his brain. Did it mean something or was Jeff trying to get on Phil's last nerve?