Dan woke up with the sound of items clanging to the floor.
He opened his eyes, his head pounding and his mouth dry.
The smell hit him first—a mix of urine, stale vomit, and industrial cleaner.
"What the hell?" he muttered. "What happened last night?"
He felt like he had been hit by a truck and played with a bull right afterward! He blinked his eyes to focus them, and then his surroundings finally made sense.
He was slumped in the corner of a dingy bathroom, the tiles cold against his skin. His body ached, stiff from the awkward position he had been lying in.
He groaned and tried to push himself up, but his arms felt weak as if an elephant slept on them.
"Rough night, huh?"
Dan turned his head slowly toward the voice, squinting through the harsh light.
