It's late. You should be asleep. Your phone lights up: a friend wants you to join something right now — a call, a game, a group thing — and there's an edge of "everyone's here, where are you?" to it. If you say you're going to sleep, you'll seem boring, like a little kid with a bedtime. You're tired. You know you'll feel terrible tomorrow. But the fear of missing out is loud, and being the one who logs off while everyone carries on feels like quietly dropping out of the group. The screen glows in the dark, and everyone's waiting.