I woke up and took my medication. I was hungover from the Negronis the night before, so I dissolved two paracetamol and codeine tablets and a multivitamin into a glass of Red Bull, which turned it from clear amber to opaque red. I used the concoction to take 200 mg of sertraline.
I took a shower, and the sickly, candy-sweet smell of my body wash filled the bathroom and made me feel queasy. After the shower, I applied moisturiser and sprayed myself with deodorant. I put two Pop-Tarts in the microwave and left them on the plate to cool. I filled a plastic beaker with ‘Princess’ written on it in cursive with ice and poured a pre-made Starbucks coffee into it.
I thought masturbating might make me feel better, so I watched pornography on my laptop and then fell asleep. When I woke, I had a message from a friend inviting me to lunch.
At the restaurant, I chain-smoked cigarettes and drank Long Island Iced Teas. After a few hours, I ordered a slice of cheesecake for dinner. The sun went down, and we went to a bar.
We sat on the balcony and took bumps of cocaine off the backs of our hands. I switched to beer. As the night went on, more and more people spoke to me. They told me about themselves and their problems, and I nodded and listened. They told me what a good listener I was.
I started to feel unwell, so I ordered an Uber home. The driver was an angry Indian guy, so I just played on my phone.
When I got back, I rolled a joint and smoked it while leaning out of my window. I watched the smoke rise and spiral into the starless sky before it disappeared into nothing.