Arjun woke up the next day, his head pounding from the previous night’s alcohol. The dull ache in his temples was relentless, a constant reminder of the state he’d sunk into. He dragged himself out of bed, glancing around the house with empty, bloodshot eyes. There was a gnawing emptiness around him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did — not the quiet, not the mess that had accumulated, and certainly not Ishita’s absence. He barely noticed that she hadn’t returned, as his mind was already spiraling back to his next drink.

His gaze fell on the scattered possessions around him, and he found himself calculating. His funds were running low, and he needed money if he wanted to keep up his endless cycle of drinking. He didn’t care about his job, his lost career, or his wrecked reputation. All he wanted was enough to numb his thoughts, to drown out the echoes of his life falling apart.