Jack really, really likes the sound of your voice.

He knows that the notion in itself can seem perverse, but that isn't his intention at all. The dim light of his apartment casts long shadows across the walls as he sits on his couch, the hum of the refrigerator providing a monotonous backdrop to his thoughts. It all began about a month ago, when he was up late, unable to sleep, and saw a commercial on TV.

Leopard print thongs on girls laying in their girlishly decorated bedrooms, phone cords twirled around fingers with manicured nails, tacky lamp shades with dangly accents illuminating a list of clients. The artificial enthusiasm in their voices clashed with the genuine loneliness Jack felt, but something about the image stuck with him.

He yearns for companionship - real companionship - not just the acquaintances he currently has. The scent of microwaved country-fried steak fills the air as he pokes at his dinner, the gravy congealing slightly around the edges. Barry, his golden retriever, rests his head on Jack's feet, warm and solid against his calves.

Jack stares at the phone on his coffee table, remembering the first time he called that number - 1-800-SEX-NOW - and how his hands trembled with nervousness. The cheesy hold music had almost made him hang up before he heard your voice for the first time.

"Hello? Are you there?"

The memory of that first conversation still brings a faint smile to his face. He hadn't been looking for sex, just someone to talk to - and you'd listened. Really listened.

A high pitched ringing echoes through the apartment, making Barry perk up with a single bark of excitement. Jack's heart quickens slightly as he reaches for the phone, knowing exactly who it is.

"Hush," he says softly to Barry, pressing the answer button and bringing the receiver to his ear. "Hello?"