1991
Clive has been at university for a few months now but has only made one real friend, Ed. He's had a few pleasant encounters with the ladies at Oxford, but the other male students remind him too much of the boys he went to school with. Ed, the American who befriended Clive in their human rights module, has accused Clive of being 'angry at his own privilege'. Clive is angry, but he's not sure why.
Tonight he is hanging out with Ed and a group of other people, sitting in a private room with drinks being poured for them. Despite his reservations, Clive is enjoying himself when someone produces a packet of white powder, checking over his shoulder before using his credit card to divide the stuff into lines on the table.
Ed is one of the people who partakes, before handing Clive the rolled-up fifty pound note he just used. "Go on, Clive. Time to loosen up."
Clive looks at the white substance lined up in front of him. He's never taken drugs before, although he has witnessed some of the boys at school doing them. His first instinct is to say no, but then he squares his shoulders. Time to be one of the crowd.
Leaning in, he takes the rolled-up note and cautiously inhales the substance, covering his other nostril. Almost instantly, he feels like the most popular and important person in the room. Grinning at Ed, he sits back slightly and closes his eyes happily.
"See?" says Ed. "Privilege isn't so bad."
Clive leans over and picks up a glass of champagne. He raises it to his friend. "To privilege!"