The March Hare Bar is a popular nightspot in Melbourne, hidden in an alleyway of surrealist street art. If Jenna wasn’t always so busy studying psychology, doing work experience at a hospital and taking shifts in a restaurant, maybe she would have visited this place sooner. Her Maps app tells her she has arrived at her destination. As she takes the step to the entrance, her phone dings with a text message from Renai.

Sorry, Jenna. Staying off my leg. Gym messed me up again. =(

“Again?” Jenna mutters out loud.  The AI suggested response appears.

OK. Thanks for letting me know.

Jenna voluntarily adds a sad face emoji for guilt. Send!

Jenna enters the bar, scans for a seat and pauses next to an empty stool. “Can I sit here? There’s only one stool left at the bar. You waiting for someone?” Jenna asks a dark haired twenty something woman.

Dark-Haired waves the half empty drink around. “Came and gone.”

Jenna takes the stool. “Right,” she says sympathetically.

Dark-Haired leans over to show Jenna a photo on her phone. “I was supposed to meet this man.”

“Oh, no. He didn’t show?” Jenna hopes she has conveyed the right amount of curiosity and empathy.

Dark-Haired rolls her eyes, sending her unnaturally long lashes sky high. “I’d need a time machine to meet that man.”

Jenna nods knowingly. “The old bait and switch routine?”

“It’s a bait and what?” Dark-Haired scrunches her well-moisturized face up.

Jenna offers a thin smile. “Never mind. Psych talk.”

Dark-Haired waves the empty glass around. “I could use a good therapist.”

Jenna nods enthusiastically. “Couldn’t we all? I was supposed to meet a friend of mine but she cancelled at the last minute.”

A young bartender greets her. “What are you having?”

Jenna realizes she hasn’t had a drink in…forever. So she orders her alcoholic sister’s favorite. “A melonade.”

Dark-Haired opens her collagen-boosted lips.

“We’re cutting you off, Brandy.” The bartender grins.

“Not even a melon…?” Brandy looks at Jenna to finish the name of the drink.

“Two melonades.” The bartender struts off.

“Your name is Brandy?” Jenna nods sympathetically.

Brandy leaps off the stool. “Can you take a photo of me?” She puts her phone in Jenna’s hand.

“All right,” Jenna snaps a few photos and gets off her stool to take an angled down shot.

Brandy gets busy uploading the new photos to Instagram as the drinks arrive.

“Have you added ‘All By Myself’ as the music?” Jenna skulls the non-alcoholic drink.

Brandy doesn’t appear to hear her. She is watching the Instagram feed, relishing in the likes and comments.

“I don’t want to go home yet.” Brandy waves the glass around. “What a waste of a night. I go home to this!” Brandy shows her phone to the bartender.

The bartender chuckles. “Is he live-streaming?”

“He’s eating the entire family meal from KFC. Worst housemate ever!” Brandy skulls the drink. Brandy gives Jenna a what-the-hell-am-I-drinking look but she is immersed in her phone.

“He’s gone soft. What about that whole kangaroo he chowed last week? Put a different hot sauce on every body part!” The bartender crows.

“It’s the new sponsorship. 87,702 followers.” Brandy waves the empty glass around. “Big deal.”

Jenna’s phone dings. “This should be funny! My friend that couldn’t make it. She hurt her…leg or something in the gym.”

Brandy and Jenna watch, bemused.

“She bends. And leaps. Big deal.” Brandy taps her fake nails on the bench top.

Jenna reads the description slowly. “New Personal Best! With today’s date.”

“What’s the funny part? I don’t get it.” Brandy says impatiently.

“Neither do I.” Jenna says. The sound of the fake nails tapping is overpoweringly loud.

Brandy leaps off her stool. “Did someone say Uber? I’m outta here.” She waves. “Hugs and kisses.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jenna replies. “Good idea. Siri, get Uber to my location now.”

She immediately gets to scrolling again.

“Anything else I can get you?” The bartender appears again.

“A new follower! Harry Styles.” She says quickly.  “I followed back.”

The bartender leans over the bar, looking very interested in this development.

Her phone dings.

“It’s him!” the bartender says excitedly.

“Hello, dear fan. Have you eaten today?” Jenna reads out loud. She pauses, smiles like the Cheshire Cat and then types furiously into the phone. “How’s the weather in Nigeria?”

The bartender cackles again. “Delete and block!”

Her phone dings again, to announce her Uber driver is only two minutes away. Jenna makes her way out of the bar. She stands on the curb, fishes around in her bag. She places fluffy pink headphones to her ears.

“Siri, play something I like,” Jenna commands as she spots her Uber coming to a stop.

“All By Myself” plays.

Jenna sighs.