It was packed. Really packed. Soon enough, I’d run into people I knew. But Karin knew everyone—she would, of course. Models knew other models. And models knew all kinds of people. On weekends like this, you’d have people from all over—Jakarta, Bangkok, London, Berlin, Amsterdam. People flew in to drop E, dance their tits and asses off, get laid and fly back. DJs were paid big bucks to spin and we had the best flown in from all over the world. We had no press freedom, we had police brutality, we had an authoritarian government, and we had MDMA.

And when we got high, we would just forget. Forget about our shitty jobs, bosses who were pricks, the 2.5 kids at home, the mortgage, the credit card bill, the cops who would beat up sex workers whom they hauled from Chow Kit, the lies our politicians told, the bad adverts on TV, the lack of intellectual scholarship in our universities, Malay rights, the refugees who were being beaten up at detention camps that very moment. If only everyone could take E—there would be peace, joy and  happiness.

It was naïve idealism, I realised, but then, all I wanted to do was fry my brains and get completely off my head. The club was really filling up. There was a steady stream of people coming in now, and there she was.

In a tight red dress. Prada bag and high heels. Curls and lip gloss. Walking towards me. Babes, so sorry. Traffic was insane. Mum was talking to me non-stop about this condo that she wants to buy in Mont Kiara for investment. I told her KL is going through a real-estate bubble and that she should wait. Then Kai calls from Jakarta and I have to talk to him, cos I haven’t seen him in two weeks. Then one of the heels of my Prada broke and I was so trauma, for like five mins. Anyhow, I’m here. So let’s party!!!

Karin had two tabs. The blue ones are better, babes. We can have the pink ones for later.

A bottle of water each. We put the tabs on each other’s tongues.

To tonight, darls. Let’s live forever!

The E normally took about twenty minutes to kick in. Normal being subjective. It depended on your mood, what you’d eaten that day. The time of the month. And then the endless “live forever” toasts. I bet that’s what everyone felt like. I looked around. There was a blonde who looked like the ex of an ex. She was tottering on heels, in an ultra mini. Model. Giggling her head off. Dirty dancing with a dark guy who had his arms and hands all over her. She glanced in my direction and her eyes were glazed. She was as high as a hawk.