False Signal

She's cheating on you.

Ryan checked over his shoulder trying to find out where the noise came from. The words still boiling around behind his ears. He stood up and checked his bookshelves (all neatly ordered and alphabetized).

"She's cheating on you," The voice said again. It was louder this time and broken by bits of static. The only piece that was out of place on the shelves was a palm-sized blue IKEA alarm clock.

He stared at the tinny speaker in the back. Noise floated up through it in staticy chunks. A few notes from a saxophone peeked out between the bursts. A voice that was barely recognizable muttered. "What?"

Then he heard it again. "Dude, she's cheating on you." Then some more static, this time it was a lot louder. "... I didn't mean to see it... you should know."

His fingers started trembling, while his heart slammed in his chest. But he wanted to know, what these people were talking about. He needed the data. This time he could definitely hear people in the background, the sound of a band playing smooth jazz floating between them. Again the responder said. "I can understand."

"Don't get angry." Was that Chad?

"I'm not angry... I'm... I don't know what I am."

"You're pissed. I can tell. Just don't do anything stupid."

"Do I ever?"

Ryan's mouth started to dry out. He could picture the image in his mind, butt planted in the pleather bar stool next to Chad. People swinging around him, getting their drinks. He would be looking deep into a cup of coffee - watching the creamer swirl, fall down and rise back up to the top. As Chad answered. "Of course not. But you're kind of a golden boy, if you know what I mean. You haven't had something like this happen to you before."

"I'll be fine." The way he said it made Ryan know that he wasn't all right. That things would be heading south really soon.

Then the feedback kicked up, lancing him in his ear.