‘You’re just tired,’ I told myself. Bottle in hand, I made my way through to the living room and lay on the white, leather, double-seater sofa Kavya and I had picked out when I moved into this apartment. A wave of tiredness washed over me. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt. I reached over to grab my phone; over a hundred emails awaited my reply. I groaned. Opening my bag, I rummaged around for the pharmacy packet. Two pills in hand, I took a deep breath.

‘It’s just this one time, Jhanvi. To get through today.’ I put the pills in my mouth and swallowed hard. The next four hours were a blur. I felt fantastic. The pills didn’t make me feel different, ‘hyper’ as the kids in school would say. I felt balanced, the way I felt before Puneet. By seven that night, I had finished my emails and posted two additional photos. My follower count was rising steadily, and my entire month was planned out. Standing to make myself a coffee, I felt the familiar spinning feeling that I had experienced in the morning. I grabbed another protein bar out of the cupboard. Turning around, I let out a scream.

‘My god, Kavya! You almost gave me a heart attack!’

‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you the whole day,’ she shot back. ‘If you used your phone for anything other than social media, you would know I was coming over with dinner.’

‘Actually, I used it to answer my emails and put all my commitments in my calendar today.’ I was very aware of my childish, belligerent attitude, but at that moment, I didn’t care. The room began to spin. Putting my hands on the counter, I steadied myself.

‘Are you drunk, Jhanvi?’ The look on her face changed from anger to concern.

I searched my mind, trying to remember where I had left the vodka bottle. In my bag, I put it back in my bag. This was salvageable.

‘No, Kavya,’ I shot back, surprising myself at the venom in my voice. I softened my tone. ‘No. I just haven’t been sleeping well, and if you must know, I think I’m coming down with something.’

‘I’m worried about you, Jhanvi. You’re so stuck in this,’ she gestured towards the phone in my hand, ‘you’ve forgotten that real people exist. People who actually care about you!’ I didn’t want to have this conversation with her. Not now, anyway. It didn’t feel like a fight, but she was relentless, pushing me for answers I didn’t have. What she said was true, and the truth hurt. It cut deep. The rage built inside me.