All for one

Ryan woke up disoriented. The room swirled around him in an echo of yesterday. It was a typical morning in the basement of the house he rented, a mess of strewn clothes, half-empty beer cans, and textbooks piled in haphazard stacks.

The usual fuzziness of his hangover was amplified by the memory lapse. He couldn't recall how he got home, the last thing he remembered was walking back from classes. Shaking his head in a feeble attempt to clear the fog, he trudged into the small bathroom of his apartment.

As he slid his boxers down to relieve his aching bladder, he noticed something odd. Squinting, he leaned closer to the mirror, confusion furrowing his brow. In the harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom, he saw intricate patterns tattooed on his cock. They twirled and swirled in esoteric symbols. The lines were etched deep, the pigment a vivid bluish hue, somehow alive against his skin.

Ryan stood frozen, eyes wide, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. He was positive he'd never gotten a tattoo, certainly not in such a private area, he'd definitely remember the pain. Fingers shaking, he traced the lines. To his surprise, they glowed a blue hue faintly under his touch, pulsating with an odd, alien rhythm.

After returning to his bedroom, he got dressed in his usual attire of faded jeans and a t-shirt. He decided to ignore the strange markings, there was nothing he could do about it. So after a deep breath in and out, he put on his clothes, packed his backpack with exactly one notebook, and left his apartment.