I struggle to open my eyes. My head hurts. I'm snuggled into warm, soft sheets and covers. I yawn and sit up in bed, realizing quickly that I'm not in my own apartment. The apartment I live in is a cardboard box compared to this place. The bed is huge, and all the decoration I can see in the room is extremely modern, all a sleek design, in metal and tones of gray, black, and red. If I look directly across from me, there isn't a wall but a window that reaches from wall to wall, with the most amazing city view you could ever imagine. As I move to get up, I touch something with my hand. I look over, to find some gorgeous guy I've never seen before lying in bed next to me. He's so gorgeous. A ridiculous shade of orange, hair, spiky, fluffy, and messy. I don't want to touch him, afraid I'll wake him up and to be confronted as to why I'm in his bed. In fact, I haven't even given the slightest thought as to why I'm in his bed. I swing my legs to the side and get up. My feet touch the hardwood floors. They aren't cold at are, they might even be heated. I walk over to the huge window and look out over the city. It's beautiful. The sky is gray and sets an off white glow to the industrial city and it starts to rain lightly. The odd light coming in makes me realize I have a headache, or rather a hangover, and I decide I shouldn't stick around all day in case I start to feel sick. I take off the clothes I'm wearing, not mine either, and find my clothing. After I get dressed, I search around for some paper and a pen. Old school. I leave a note on his kitchen counter.

Thanks for bringing me home with you. I don't remember any of last night.

If you wouldn't mind filling me in sometime, my name is Allen. I wish I knew yours.

I fold the paper in half and write my phone number on the top half. I leave the pen on top. I can't help feeling like I'm doing something wrong, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do in a situation like this. I mean, I've honestly never done this before. I've never woken up in a stranger's home, slept in someone else's bed, or gotten so drunk I couldn't remember what happened the night before. I can't even say that I regret what happened last night, having no memory of the events that took place. I grab my phone and leave his place. I hadn't guessed a while ago, but as I get on the elevator and hit the button for the first floor, I look up and watch the digital numbers change, count down, starting from forty-six. There are One-hundred and thirty-five floors in this building. I get down to the first floor and find my way out of the lobby. Honestly this place looks like more of a hotel then an condo complex. I have a feeling today will be full or coincidences and surprises. These service apartments happen to be located right on the main street of the city, Grand Ave., and the subway is a short five minute walk from here. I walk past this place everyday to get to work. I start off on the short walk to get to the station.

Its only nine thirty A.M. when I get off the train. A short walk gets me to my apartment. I get home and plop down on the couch. I know I should go shower and get ready for work, but I can't think straight. I'm so tired suddenly. My head still hurts, and I want to sleep it off. I wish I could remember what happened last night. I should probably call the office and tell them I'm not coming in today.

Just as I start to doze of, sitting there on the couch, my text tone goes off and scares me so bad I literally get off the couch to grab my phone when it's only inches away from me. I tap the screen to unlock it, and see the text waiting for me. Already? This can't be him already! The number isn't listed in my phone, so it just shows up as digits. I slide the "View" button along to read it.

"New Message" is displayed on the screen. I click it and get a picture of the guy I woke up next to this morning. The text underneath it reads "Is the the guy you went home with last night?"

I'm confused. So it's not him? But then who wants to know if I went home with him last night? I did, and I want to figure out who wants to know, so I respond. I back out of the message and hit "respond."

"Yes. Who is this?"

I hit send and sit back down trying to figure out what's going on. I realize I still haven't called into work. A few minutes pass, and I get another message. The same person as before. I open the message and read it.

"All you need to know is that he's taken. Happily taken. Don't come back and don't talk to him again if you don't want a confrontation. "

A second messages comes in. View.

"I mean it. I'll kick your ass. And if I find out you slept with him, hope I never see your face again"

How do you even reply to something like that? I don't know. I lock my phone and set it down. I feel sick suddenly, worse than I did before. I unlock it and look at them again. What am I supposed to do? I can't even believe this is happening. I leave my phone on the couch and get up to take a shower. I need to think about something else for a while.

I can't stop thinking about him. That gorgeous guy, his jealous boyfriend. The ever creeping fact that I may have slept with another guy, but I really don't know. I mean, you'd think, there would be some obvious signs, but as far as I can tell it doesn't seem like I did anything last night. Except drink excessively. I don't even know how I cant think straight, at this point my head feels awful and I feel like I could vomit. I wash my hair and then get to scrubbing my body when I feel a sharp pain as I scrub the back of my neck. I wash off the soap and feel the spot with my hand, reach back and pressing down on the area that hurts, but I stop immediately because it hurts so bad. It feels like a giant whelp. I finish getting clean and get out of the shower. I try turning around and looking behind me in the mirror, to see why that area aches. I reach back to feel it again. It looks like a weird mark. It's not a bruise or anything, but it's a decent size and red. I move my fingers over it slowly, not applying any pressure. The skin is tender, even to such a light touch, and I feel smooth, strange abrasions right over the top layer of skin. It's a bite mark.

I reach around in the cabinet to find some aspirin and grab a glass for water. I take the pills and lay on my bed. I start to feel around, touch other areas of my body to see if there are any other strange marks. I don't find any. I wonder if I willingly let a stranger bite me. The thought seems so weird, gross even. I have got to find out what happened last night!