Beyond The Fine Line

Chapter XXVIII - Tangled Cables in Armani Shoebox

In the hazy quiet of an afternoon, the dim light filtered through a narrow gap in the curtains, painting soft patterns on the walls. Despite the sweltering heat outside, the air conditioner hummed quietly, maintaining a pleasant temperature within the room. Sleek furnishings and minimalist décor created a sophisticated and elegant atmosphere dominated by the large bed. The only visible sign of life was a messy black hair peeking out from beneath the duvet.

As consciousness slowly returned, it brought with it an intense headache, throbbing relentlessly against his temples. With a pained groan, he sank deeper into the soft pillow, which smelled unmistakably like Jay. In fact, everything around him seemed to carry Jay's scent. And this wasn't his own bed. Startled by this sudden realisation, Sean jolted up. It was a big mistake. His headache exploded, his stomach protested, and he dropped back onto the mattress, trying to keep it together. The glass of water and a box of painkillers on the bedside table felt like a blessing. Sean swallowed two tablets and closed his eyes, trying to piece together how he ended up in Jay's bed, wearing what appeared to be Jay's pyjama trousers.

"What the hell did I do?" he muttered, massaging his forehead.

Sean racked his brain, trying to recall the events of the previous night. He remembered stumbling into Wong's Place – his favourite bar ever, not only because drinks were free but also because the owner was an old family friend. Then he grabbed a bottle of whisky and, at Wong's request, texted Izzy for a ride home later. But after this... who did he meet? The memory was foggy, elusive, like trying to grasp at smoke. He strained to focus, but all he could conjure was a vague impression of a conversation – something important, perhaps? Sean groaned with annoyance.

He sat up on the bed, moving much slower this time as each movement sent shockwaves of pain through his head. He blinked a few times, gradually adjusting to the dim light filtering through the room. It was as if Jay had deliberately left a narrow gap in the blackout curtains, allowing just enough light to penetrate the darkness and let him find his bearings. His phone was on the nightstand, besides water and paracetamol. On the ottoman at the foot of the bed, he noticed a neatly folded towel and a fresh set of clothes.

There was a voice he didn't know in the back of his mind telling him that maybe he didn't want to see it. See what? Confused, Sean ran his hands over his face, wishing for painkillers to kick in already. Suddenly, he froze...

"What the fuck is this?!"

His forearms were covered in wonky handwriting he didn't recognise. Clearly, the person wielding the black marker had been as drunk as he was. It was a jumbled mess in various shapes and sizes. Some words were in capital letters, others barely recognisable, and most didn't make sense. He squinted his eyes. Were those tiny hearts? And anarchy symbol? Seriously, what happened to him last night?

Sean turned on the bedside lamp, determined to read them all and try to find some clues.

"Tangled cables in Armani shoebox... what does it even mean?" he mumbled, reading the most prominent inscription. On the other arm had written in captions – PATIENCE – it seemed important, but why? "Small... affections or is it attentions," Sean wondered, tilting his head to get a better look.

Right below was something that looked like 'go with the flow', followed by relatively easy to decipher 'one thing at a time' and probably a compromise wrapping around his wrist.

"Walk... the... fine... line," he slowly read, turning his arm as he went. "As slop as he needs? Huh? Oh, it's slow...," Sean corrected himself, noticing a tiny 'w' above slop. "You're already in it... in what exactly?"

Rest was unreadable, suggesting whoever made this list got progressively drunkier. Sean sighed. None of this explained what the hell he did last night and how he ended up at Jay's... Jay... His eyes widened with sudden realisation, scanning through messy inscriptions. They all were related to his 'relationship' with Jay, but what did those drunken scribbles mean? Advice? Possibly, but it made very little sense to him.