[Phone, semi-accidental... god help him]

[salvagedlight]

[He's been resisting it for awhile, now. But that string of numbers just won't leave him alone, and it's getting to the point where even his dreams have gotten infected with it. So, finally one night, walking back to the closet of an apartment he's sharing with his brother, Ben juggles the phone out of his pocket without dropping his bag or his coffee and slowly punches it in, with a hesitation between each number.]

[Random passerby can be forgiven for turning to look at him as he yells in surprise as his phone screen is suddenly flooded with text, both hand-written and typed, as well as a myriad of voices coming out of the speaker only for him. The poor coffee goes flying and the poor phone is dropped as well - at least it drops on grass so it doesn't break?]

What's going on here?