She stumbled out of the noisy bar, her vision blurred and her steps unsteady. The alcohol had taken its toll on her.

She clutched onto your arm for support, her fingers digging into the fabric of her friend's shirt.

"This is twice a month now. Are you feeling stressed lately?" you asked her but she was still feeling dizzy.

As they entered her apartment. It was a messy space, filled with canvases, art supplies, and unfinished sketches.

Ena collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the cushions.