Not that knowing what he means makes it any easier to come up with something to say.
So I just stand there.
Like a dumbass.
Jamie passes me a mug in the shape of a fox head, forcing on one of his usual bright smiles. "So.Let's go over the mask and the magnetic release, since you didn't get a chance to play with it before. And this is the real thing, not a test piece."
On the workbench, there's a foam mannequin head, life-sized, with the perfect replica of Rex's signature silver-and-black performance mask covering half of it.
"Three contact points." He taps the outer edge of the mask with his index finger. "Temple, cheekbone, jaw. They're strong enough to hold under stage movement—headbanging, jumping, whatever—but they release clean with a sharp diagonal pull."He mimes the motion. "Like this. Upper right to lower left. One motion. Firm but not violent. You don't want to yank."
"How firm?"
"Like opening a fridge door. Not like… ripping a phone book in half."
"Okay. Fridge door. Got it."
I position my hand on the outer mask. Temple, cheekbone, jaw. I can feel the magnetic contacts through the metal, three subtle points of resistance.
I pull.
Nothing happens.
But the prosthetic lifts partially off the foam head.
"Angle," Jamie says. "More diagonal or you'll tear the prosthetic beneath it off, too. That would… um.Notbe optimal."
I adjust. Pull again.
The mask separates with a soft, satisfyingclick-click-clickas the magnets release in sequence. The outer mask comes away clean in my hand, revealing the bone-white skull prosthetic underneath, attached to the foam head with pins.
"Oh," I say. "That's—yeah. That's good."
"Right?" Jamie's bouncing again. "Try a few more times. Get the muscle memory."
I reassemble it and pull again.Click-click-click.Clean separation. Again.Click-click-click.Each time, the prostheticstays perfectly in place on the foam head while the outer mask lifts away.
"It's smooth," I say. "Reallysmooth."
"Orion's magnetic alignment is—" Jamie kisses his fingertips and blows out. "Perfection. The tolerances are insane. He spent hours making adjustments."
"It's incredible work."
"Tellhimthat, not me." Jamie tilts his head to throw his voice toward the direction of the hall with the beaded curtain and adds, practically shouting, "IF HE EVER COMES OUT." He smiles innocently at me. "He'll pretend it's nothing and then glow for a week. Try it on me now?"
He holds the outer mask against his own face and presses it into place, gripping it from behind with both hands. The proportions are wrong—it's molded for Rex's bone structure, not Jamie's softer features—but the magnetic contacts still engage.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
I reach for the mask. Temple. Cheekbone. Jaw. Diagonal pull.
Click-click-click.
The mask comes away in my hand and Jamie's grinning face stares back at me.
"Good!" He claps. "Perfect angle. Again? I'll even pretend to be Rex. For immersion."