​I RAN OUT OF PETROL ON THE WAY HOME AND NOT ONE PERSON ANSWERED MY CALL

Dear Delyara, I ran out of petrol on the way home and not one person answered my call. My car sputtered and died on a dark stretch of the A13 at 6:30 AM, just as the morning rain was turning into a heavy downpour. I sat there in the dead vehicle, watching the dashboard lights fade out one by one, and pulled out my phone. I called four different people—people I consider close friends, people I’ve helped out of tight spots before. Every single call went straight to voicemail. I could see the little green lights on their social media profiles showing they were online, waking up for their days, but my name on their screens wasn't worth interrupting their morning routines for. I ended up walking two miles to a service station in the freezing rain, carrying a plastic green jerry can, realizing that when the facade of my success drops away, I am completely and utterly on my own in this city.