Night was swiftly falling, and Jack was in need of an outlet and wifi. He wished there were 24-hour libraries, but quickly disregarded the thought as his imagination supplied him with a cast of questionable weirdos who wouldn't respect his personal space.

He made his way to his favorite internet cafe, planning on staying until they closed. In the window, he caught his reflection. And his haggard appearance. He swallowed and avoided his eyes as he looked past to see if he had a chance at a table.

He was in luck; it was a goth crowd night. He entered the cafe and made his way to a table in the corner, giving a small wave to the woman behind the register. He set up shop at the tiny table, thankful that the goth kids tended to stick together and didn't take over every flat surface available.

The waitress came by and dropped off a drink in front of him. "Made special, just for you, Jack," she said with a wink. "No charge."

Jack grinned up at her and plugged in his laptop. "Thanks, Missy."

She eyed Jack's laptop as it loaded. "You've never been caught, right?" she asked.

"I have no idea what you mean," he replied innocently.

"Of course you don't," she said with a smirk. "Now answer the question."

"Only once," he admitted. "And that was on purpose, so it doesn't count."

Missy shook her head and left Jack to his devices.

Jack tried to give his laptop his undivided attention, but it wasn't easy as he had the distinct feeling of being watched. He thought better to ignore it. It never ended well when he confronted people staring at him. He did, however, catalogue his clothing choices for the day, wondering if he managed to stand out.

Scuffed black Chucks, faded jeans, a plain forest green shirt, and a black hoodie two sizes too big for him. No, he was perfectly boring aside from the pair of small heart-shaped rainbow earrings, but even those were covered by his hair reaching just past his ears. Maybe he stood out because he wasn't part of the goth brigade. Or because he was sitting alone. Did he look like some loser working on a screenplay?

He frowned at his laptop. It didn't matter. He was fine. He looked normal, and a loser working on a screenplay was normal. His scripts just happened to be more aligned with programming. He steadied his breathing and made an attempt to concentrate on said scripts. He was already behind on the coding he'd written that morning before getting thrown off by the police report. He needed to get over himself and stay focused.

He startled as the other chair at his table was pulled back and someone sat down. He glanced up and blinked owlishly at the man who sat across from him. Pale skin stood out in stark contrast next to black, lightly curled hair. He could feel his cheeks heating up and quickly ducked his head. He was too sober to deal with handsome men being so close to him.

"Hello," greeted the man.

Jack swallowed and nodded. "Um, hi?" He looked up and gave the man an uneasy smile. He almost regretted it. Pretty hazel eyes greeted him. He quickly shifted his gaze to the man's nose. Straight, pale… Just above a set of light pink lips. He dropped his eyes and stared at his keyboard. Stranger danger, screamed his mind. Keep him talking, screamed his ears.

"May I inquire as to what you're doing?" the handsome stranger asked. His accent had a lovely Irish lilt to it that had Jack's stomach squirming.

"Nothing important," Jack said as he pulled his laptop closer. "Nothing interesting."

The man leaned in, and Jack's eyes darted up. This time, he couldn't bring himself to look away. The man smiled at him. It was a charming smile that held promises of comfort.

"You'd be surprised at what interests me," the man said silkily.

Jack licked his lips. Something was wearing at his barriers, telling him to give up his will. Everything would be okay. He didn't actually have anything to hide. A browser extension for flagging local gruesome news stories was hardly worth the effort of lying. And if this mystery man had any sort of interest in computers or literature, then Jack would have someone to share his project with.

An instinct embedded deep within his memory stopped his hopeful thoughts.

The man was too close for comfort, and then there was the look in his eyes that said he had ulterior motives. "I have to go now," Jack said as he looked away. He quickly unplugged and closed his laptop. His heart beat too fast, and he shook as he quickly tucked his laptop in his bag.

He needed to get away. He couldn't move fast enough. At least he wasn't being stopped. That was better than being yelled at for freaking out. He glanced at the man as he stood and only saw confusion. He forced an apologetic smile as he edged away. "Sorry."

When Jack finally made it back to his studio apartment, he quickly checked that all the windows were locked and had their backup sticks securely in place. If anyone wanted to break in, they'd have to break a window.

He rubbed his arms as he looked from window to window. Everything was where it was supposed to be. His pile of computer parts was as he'd left it. His bed, a cheap mattress shoved in a corner, was covered in a couple blankets and discarded clothing from that morning. Even the empty liquor bottles still sat on his counter, arranged by color. His CD cases were exactly where he left them: carefully arranged along the floorboards, some at angles, but each in their own specific spot.

He shouldn't be this paranoid. No one was out to get him. That guy wasn't out to get him. Jack was okay. He was safe.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle. He tightened the window blinds before grabbing a couple beers and hurrying to his bed.

Maybe he could get a good buzz going and get some sleep before the nightmares kicked in.