As he opened his eyes the pain burned, he was blind, scared, as he peeled the dried contacts off his eyeballs.
Dry, he had fallen asleep drunk, in bed with two women he did not recognize, blurs next to him as he tried to figure out where he was, why his eyes burned, realizing he was in big trouble.
Wubbling is not the same. Darby, working as a bartender in a gay bar, had left at two in the morning with the woman who had bought him some shots that he snuck when John, the manager, was not around. He woke them as he dashed for the bathroom by the bed he was in, flushing his eyes with water to stop the burning, only to make it worse as the chlorine hi…
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