Still Euphoric

Five years after his mother's overdose, Koa is barely surviving-haunted by guilt, numbed by smoke, and slowly disappearing inside the decaying house they once shared.

Weed is the only thing that quiets the noise.

And Aspen is the only thing that makes him want to stay.

She appears in the haze like a lifeline-sharp-tongued, wild-haired, and impossible in ways Koa knows should terrify him. At first, he tells himself she's just another symptom. A hallucination born from grief, addiction, and the kind of loneliness that hollows you out.

But Aspen knows things she shouldn't.

About his past.
About his pain.
About the parts of himself he's tried hardest to bury.

And when Koa starts catching glimpses of her beyond the smoke-somewhere real, somewhere breathing-he's forced to question whether he's losing his mind...

...or whether the girl he thought he imagined has been waiting for him all along.

Dark, raw, and achingly atmospheric, Euphoric is a haunting story of addiction, grief, guilt, and the dangerous line between escape and reality. Some people disappear slowly.

And some find themselves in the smoke.