Dylan was at home, drinking as usually in the living room. He took a gulp of the bottle of bourbon he was desperately held onto constantly and he looked at his hand. The faded phone number of Zack. He thought for a moment if he should call him. Not just for sex but to see how he was doing. He didn’t why he cared but he did. He wasn’t about to let him know that though. He shrugged and grabbed his cell phone, dialing Zack’s number. As he finished punching in the number, he waited for him to pick up.