He's scared to find out.

Usually after a heavy night, Jason had the "fear". Fear of having spent too much on getting himself intoxicated. Fear of having done something unutterably awful. Fear of having said something terrible, of having offended someone, of having in some subtle way, royally fucked up. Now, with the aid of his pen, he was afraid he might have done absolutely anything. He looked down at his fellow commuter. kneeling in her leather dress at the foot of the bed. Sure enough, around her neck was a leather collar and attached to that was a leash. She looked at him expectantly, but said nothing. Jason looked back silently trying to keep a lid on his rising dread. What the fuck had he done?

The pen had been carefully placed on her nightstand but on the floor beside his pants was his little notebook. he slid naked from Chelsea's arms to kneel on the floor beside Melinda and picked it up. There were almost indecipherable scribbles. Jason squinted to be able to read them.

Melinda will be my loyal pet. Everyone will accept this as perfectly normal.

Underwear is banned at my work.

There is lots of beer back at Vic's house.

I wanna big taxi to take us all home.

Jason winced as he could hear himself drunk saying these things. Then, he saw there were a couple of lines that even he couldn't read himself. He assumed the pen couldn't either. They were just scribbles right?

Then why the hell was there a "guest" in his apartment? He looked back up to the bed where the naked teenager had sat up to watch him. "Chelsea babe - I gotta go".