The Velvet Tail
I woke up in a bar I did not recognize, on a chair that smelled of stale beer and regret, with a headache that felt like someone was driving railroad spikes through my temples. The neon sign outside the window buzzed in a language I almost understood. Rain lashed against the glass. Everything was gray. Everything was wet. Everything was wrong. I knew my name was Jack Lin. I knew I was a...
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