‘If I didn’t know better, I would swear you were drunk,’ Kavya said, laughing at me. I laughed too, and dismissed my swaying as being lightheaded from getting up so quickly. She picked up her box, promising to return during the week after work. Closing the door behind her, I leaned back. I was drunk and tired. I needed an energy drink to help me get through the night: I needed to edit my work, post for my brands and make sure that my schedule allowed for me to get out and capture some decent shots.

I opened the kitchen cupboard and poured some vodka into my coffee cup, checking my phone to pass the time while the kettle boiled. The content from today was doing well, and some of the brands had replied with positive feedback. There was a club opening in a week, and the owners wanted me to attend. I sent back my standard gushing response, and made a note in my online calendar the way Kavya had shown me. I smiled as the message popped up, saying I would be reminded twelve hours before the event.

‘See, you’ve got this, Jhanvi,’ I told myself. Moving to a box of clothing Kavya had marked as urgent, I picked an outfit for the next day. I decided I would go to one of the more popular tourist spots to take photos. Kavya was, of course, working. I squashed down the feelings of loneliness, replacing them with glee as a box marked Nike caught my attention. Inside, a pair of black and gold leopard print sneakers in my size was nestled in the flimsy paper. I closed the box, being careful to replace the paper, and reached for my phone. I hit record, and re-enacted the joy I felt earlier. It felt strange, false; but this was my life now. This is what I had signed up for, and it was worth it. I posted the video to my stories, keeping the photo for the next day so that I didn’t bombard my followers with too many sponsored posts.

A familiar sound broke the silence. I looked down at my screen. It wasn’t Sunday. Was it? The word Mom stared back at me. I checked the time. Too early to say I was asleep. I sighed and swiped ‘accept’.

‘Hi, Mom.’ I tried to sound as sober as I possibly could. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Fine, fine. Everything good with you, Jhanvi?’

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Sorry I took so long to answer. I must have lost track of time. I didn’t realise it was Sunday already.’ There was an awkward silence before my mother answered.

‘You forgot it was Sunday? That’s very strange, Jhanvi. Are you sure everything is all right?’

I rolled my eyes, the familiar feeling of my mother’s passive intrusion creeping in.

‘I’m good, Mom, really. I have just been quite busy, so—’