The sound of the spritz coming from the aromatic diffuser snaps him out of his concentration. Lifting his Burberry, green and cream marble-colored glasses up and away from his eyes, he set them to rest at the top of his head: pinning the medium length straight jet-black hair, back against his head. With a deep inhale, he brings his thumb and middle finger towards his eyes and gently rubs them in a circular motion over his closed eyelids. He wraps up the brief massage by applying firm pressure just above the bridge of his nose and in between his eyebrows, with the aid of his pointer finger. Opening his eyes once more, the pupils dilate against the hazel and amber iris, attempting to bring the letters on the screen before him into focus. Unfortunately, without his glasses, the letters will never come into focus, exhaling he brings the glasses back down to sit on the bridge of his nose and sees the screen clearly once more. Moving the cursor down to the bottom of the screen, he brings up the task bar so that he may take peak at the time on the bottom right corner of the screen. 2:30 AM, it reads.

Pushing himself away from his desk, he reclines back on his soft padded chair, arching his lower back in the process. Gently activating the muscles that hug the upper spine, he brings his arms towards the ceiling, clasps his fingers together with his palms facing out for a deep seated stretch. Holding the stretch, his eyes begin to water, his jaw unclenches as he lets out a bellowed growl. Bringing his hands back down slowly his elbows come to stop at shoulder height and he protrudes his chest forward unleashing a yawn so deep that his nose begins to run and eyes start to tear up.

Wiping the freshly formed tears that had formed around his tired eyes, he looks around at his room so that his eyes can focus on objects of different distances. The edges of white walls are illuminated with deep pink and purple hues while the center of the wall has an ocean blue. Combined with a star field galaxy filter, the living room wall look as if he was peering into deep space. Taking a deep breath, he swivels back towards his desk and the soft warm yellow light, emanating from an adjustable led bar above his monitor, grounds him once more.  But before he resumes his studies, he glances towards the balcony door and like a moth to a flame the lights from the city call out to him.

From his mountain side condo, the view of the city below him has always brought a sense of peace. Tonight, bathed under the white light of the full moon, the silhouette of the skyscrapers stands out against the shimmering backdrop of pacific black ocean. Outside on his balcony, he takes in the smell of the summer night with a breath so deep his torso grows. Leaning on the rails of the balcony, his upper torso extends out into the abyss as he savors the view of the night. The serenity of the moment comes to an end when a vehicle pulls up and parks below his balcony five stories below. Like an owl perched in its nest, he presses his round glasses back towards his face and silently watches as the driver exits the vehicle and walks around to open the rear passenger door. The driver, anchoring his lower body to the grounds, reaches into the jeep and with a bellowed grunt. hoists another man out with hand their hands locked together. Dressed in denim jeans and a simple white tee the man is pulled out from the rear seat of the Jeep. Immediately upon exiting he hunches over and fills the silent street with the sound of viscous liquid crashing onto concrete. Under the cover of darkness and the cool of the night, sound can travel great distances.

“You sure you’re ok” the driver asks the man with the white tee. The man with the white tee holds out his arm and simply raises his thumb. “I don’t know man, you don’t look that good” he says in a concerned tone as he places his hand on white tee’s shoulders, “I think I’m just going to crash on your sofa and make sure you choke on your own vomit tonight”. White tee shakes his head no and begins to flutter his hand, as if he was waving off a bug, when another round of vomit is unleashed from his bowels. “I guess I’m spending the night”. The driver slings white tee’s arm around his shoulder and the two men walk into the apartment complex.

With the commotion having come to an end, the owl recedes back into his nest. Walking past his desk, his stomach guides him right into the kitchen. Hanging on the fridge door is an unopened letter from his father. Owl keeps it there on the fridge so that he can remember to open it as soon as finals have finished. His attention is solely focused on scoring the highest possible grade and does not what be distracted with the contents of the letters in the moment. Opening the refrigerator’s door, he reaches in and grabs a left-over sandwich from earlier in the day. Sitting up on the granite kitchen countertop he lets his legs drape the side of the counter as he nibbles on the sandwich and glares at the letter. An unease builds within him, and his appetite gets suppressed, letting the sandwich sit on the counter he reaches begins to make his way back out to the balcony to try and find serenity once more.

The sliding balcony door, covered with raindrops from the storm that had just rolled by, diffuses the traffic lights with red, greens and yellows across its plane. The contrast in lighting between the outdoor cityscape and the interior lighting causes his reflection to emerge on the glass, as he walks towards the patio door. On his left side his upper chest and front ribcage is highlighted pink lighting, the lateral and ocean blue and the low lights a deep purple. The soft amber light coming from his desk bring forth his right upper chest and lateral side, light fades as travels further down his body causing the reflection to be weak in those areas and cityscape’s light shine through. His reflection, full of color and small specs of outside lights looks like that of celestial beings written about in the past.

He steps outside once again when he notices the lights of the apartment in front of him two stories below are on. Again, he observes in silence from his perch, the two men, now both covered in white tee’s vomit are in the pad two stories below his. The driver proceeds to undress the man in denim, in the living room, as white tee’s head just rest on the driver’s shoulder. Both men shuffle around the pad as the driver undresses white tee. As owl stalks the men, he can feel his own pulse begin to quicken, as blood rapidly flows throughout his body. The light in the bedroom turns on next and the driver thrust white tee on the bed like a rag doll, the driver then takes white tee’s shoes and socks off and slips the jeans off him leaving him naked on the king size bed. The driver then heads to the living room, picks three of the couch cushions, returns to the bedroom and tosses them onto floor. White tee, now fully naked, is laying on the bed face down and the driver proceeds then covers him up with the duvet. Owl is now body temperature has risen and and sweat precipitates on his skin as his body covets contactThe driver then undresses himself down to his boxers and heads over to the wall and lights in the apartment shut off.

Once again owl returns into his nest but this time he is aroused. He walks over to the computer and types in a chat roulette site. Instantly the site loads, Owl clicks through the prompts and a live feed comes through. On the square feed above his own feed, is a sweaty man in soaked blue navy shorts. The sweat, glistening off abdomen and trailing down the Adonis belt attract Owl eye to the man’s bulge. No foreplay this this time, Owl’s deep voice cracks throughout the room as he says “Drop the shorts”.