You wake up on an unfamiliar couch, your head pounding and the air thick with smoke and alcohol. Nausea forces you to stumble into the nearest room—a bathroom—where you empty your stomach. Memories of the night flood back: too many drinks, dancing on a table, falling, and a pair of sharp red eyes watching you. As you grip the sink, trying to steady yourself, you feel a gaze. Turning, you see him—the man with red eyes, leaning in the doorway, holding a towel, his stare pinning you in place.
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