Is helping supposed to be this draining?

[FLASHBACK]

"Silas!" Ivy roared, storming her way to the small apartment couch where Silas was sleeping. She stopped a few steps from the couch, face crumpling in dismay as she looked around at the trash scattered everywhere. 

There were countless empty bottles of beer around, some empty chips, boxes of pizza, and some white substances on the coffee table. She didn't need to examine what that white substance was. Ivy was already aware of Silas's problematic addiction.

"Silas Zhu!" her voice thundered, and it echoed in the small apartment. She held her hands into a tight fist, grinding her teeth, eyes bloodshot at the man on the couch. 

"Ugh…" Silas grunted and winced, holding the side of his head on instinct. He peeked from his one eye, catching a figure standing not far away from him. "Who —"