The room was dim, lit only by the pale glow of his phone screen. The only sound was the faint buzz of the ceiling fan and the occasional tick of the wall clock.
2:00 AM.
Aarav lay sprawled on his bed, hoodie half-zipped, sweatpants crumpled. His black hair was messy—unbrushed for two days, sticking in awkward directions—but somehow it suited him. His height, around 5'9", gave him a lean frame that could've looked athletic if he ever cared to move. His eyes, once sharp and full of restless energy, now carried shadows beneath them, proof of too many nights like this one.
His thumb moved automatically, almost robotic.Swipe. Reel. Swipe. Meme. Swipe. Edit.
Each spark of content lit up his tired brain for half a second. A girl laughing at a stupid prank. A cinematic anime edit with overdramatic music. A motivational speech cut to a guy doing pushups. A random podcast clip, chopped into captions with bold yellow text.
It was all noise, but it didn't matter. The dopamine hit was enough.
Aarav (thinking):"What am I even doing with my life? … Every swipe is like a spark in my brain. One new reel. One new joke. One new edit. It feels like I'm learning… feeling… living. But the truth? I'm not. I'm just rewiring myself to crave more sparks. Still… after everything… I like it. Pathetic, right?"
He tossed the phone beside him, the device landing with a soft thud on his blanket. The afterglow of the screen still burned in his eyes. He blinked at the ceiling, where faint cracks traced across the white paint.
His chest tightened.
Aarav (thinking):"I've cut ties with everyone. My friends? Gone. My cousins? Distant. Even at school, I drift. No calls. No plans. No one pings me unless they need something. And I don't mind. I like being here, trapped in this loop. It's… safe."
But the silence of the night made the word safe sound more like empty.
Flashback – Classroom, afternoon.The hum of ceiling fans. Chalk screeching against a blackboard.
Teacher's voice rang out:"Aarav, you're first again. 97%. Excellent work."
The class clapped, half in admiration, half in envy. Aarav's younger self smiled faintly, pretending to be humble while his chest swelled with pride.
Flashback – Park, evening.A younger Aarav sat at a chessboard, fingers moving pieces with sharp precision.
Opponent groaned:"Damn, he's unbeatable again."
Laughter. Compliments. Admiration. The air buzzing with the kind of recognition that felt eternal back then.
Back to present—Aarav's lips curved into a bitter smile as he pulled his blanket higher.
"Ah… those times were great. But that version of me? He's gone. Outdated. Just another old highlight reel no one cares to watch anymore."
His phone buzzed again, lighting up the sheets. A notification from Instagram:
"New reels for you."
Aarav stared at it. The screen tempted him, whispering promises of another spark, another five minutes wasted.
He closed his eyes instead."…Not anymore."
The silence pressed against his chest, heavy but honest.