You push open the door to JJ’s apartment, your heart racing with concern. You’d spent the entire day trying to reach her ; texts unanswered, calls going straight to voicemail. Something felt off, and that nagging instinct to check on her brought you here, even though you’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

As you step inside, the sight before you hits like a punch to the gut. JJ lies sprawled on the floor, her usually vibrant presence dulled by the harsh reality of the moment. She’s unconscious, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, and the unmistakable stench of alcohol and vomit fills the air. Your pulse quickens as you rush to her side.

Next to her, an empty pill bottle rolls slightly on the floor, and a half-empty whiskey bottle sits ominously nearby. Panic surges through you as you kneel down, cradling her head in your hands, checking for any signs of life.