A STRANGER'S LIKE - A Psychological Drama

It was 2:17 in the morning. The streets of New York were still lit up, but Ethan Cole's apartment was dark.
Only one thing gave off any light — his phone. Ethan lay flat on his bed, staring at the screen.
He refreshed it. 8 likes. He refreshed again. 8 likes. A third time. Still 8.
"Come on…" He set the phone down on the table. Ten seconds passed, and he picked it up again.
8 likes. Ethan closed his eyes. Yesterday, at this exact time, one of his posts had 31,000 likes.
Today, only 8. To him, this wasn't just a number — it was a question: "Have people forgotten me?"
Three months ago, Ethan wasn't like this. He was a young screenwriter living in New York.
He sat in coffee shops writing scripts, had dinner with friends, watched movies on weekends.
His life wasn't perfect, but it worked. Then something changed.
First, he started going to fewer parties. Then he began replying to friends' messages late.
Then he stopped replying at all. Eventually, even leaving his apartment felt hard.
The alarm would ring in the morning. Ethan would open his eyes, stare at the ceiling, and reach for his phone.
Picking up the phone was easy. Calling a friend, going to someone's house, taking a shower — all of that was hard.
But the phone was always there. He didn't need to get ready for it, didn't need to fake a smile for it.
If a conversation felt bad, he could just lock the screen. And if someone judged him, he could hide behind an anonymous account.
Slowly, Ethan realized social media wasn't his entertainment anymore. It had become his social life.
One night Ethan wrote a post — just one sentence: "Sometimes a person doesn't need people."
"They just need the feeling that someone is noticing them." He posted it and set the phone aside.
Five minutes later he checked: 12 likes. He smiled. Ten minutes later, 47.
An hour later, 312. Then the number climbed fast — 1,100, 4,800, 12,000.
Ethan sat up in bed, tears in his eyes, as the number changed again: 31,000.

To Be Continued.....