'A list of things I expect to see if you add me to your close friends story.'

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There's a specific, Pavlovian response I have to seeing that little green circle pop up around someone's Instagram profile picture. My heart does a little flutter. My thumb is poised, ready to tap with the speed of a caffeinated hummingbird. My mind is open, my body is ready. I am prepared for chaos, for drama, for the unfiltered, unhinged content that has been deemed too spicy for the general public.

I tap.

And it's a photo of… their child. Covered in sweet potato purée.

Look, I get it. The internet is a terrifying cesspool of weirdos, and you obviously only want to share photos of your precious offspring with your nearest and dearest. I respect it. I applaud it, even. But bestie, as much as I adore your kid (and believe me, I do, she has your eyes and your questionable taste in fluro pants), I followed you.

I am happy to keep seeing photos of your kids, or your particularly photogenic sunset walks, or the artisanal sourdough you inexplicably mastered. But for the love of God, you need to balance it out.

The Close Friends story is a sacred covenant. It's an honour. Those of us who made the cut are there to support you in your chaotic story endeavours. So, unlike that monstera that's slowly browning in your living room, you need to tend to us. We need to be watered with gossip and fertilised with drama.

Also, and I'm saying this with my whole chest, the number one rule of Close Friends is that you should not have more than 20 people on your list. Twenty. That's it. If you're pushing 50, 80, or god forbid, 100 people, you don't have a Close Friends list, you have a B-grade audience for your main grid rejects.

SO… If you have granted me the privilege of seeing your life behind the green curtain, I expect to see at least ONE of the following things on a consistent basis. No exceptions.

Super sexy selfies.

Let's be real. We all know that slightly-too-sexy selfie isn't for us. It's a carefully crafted thirst trap designed for that one super hot guy you're trying to hook up with. And we respect the hustle. We are your silent, supportive wing-women. Our job is simply to react with an aggressive amount of flame emojis to boost its story placement, and then mind our damn business. We see you, we support you. Now go get your man.

Having dinner with your ex.

A dimly lit photo of a dinner table for two. Across from you sits… your ex. The suspense is killing me. Is this a closure dinner? Are you getting back together? Is this an elaborate revenge plot? I need the entire play-by-play, from the awkward small talk to who paid the bill. This is the content that keeps me up at night. Also, and I don't know if I say this enough… thank you for your services.

Watch: The dating experience women keep having.

A really bad photo of you that someone else posted to their feed.

We've all been there. A friend posts a photo dump from the weekend. You're in slide four, caught mid-sneeze, with a camera angle that has gifted you three new chins. The public comment you're forced to leave is the classic, "So much fun! ❤️". But on Close Friends? I expect to see a screenshot of that cursed image with a caption that reads something like, "I am going to press charges." This is the digital war room. We are your council, here to validate your rage and agree that yes, your friend did you dirty.

Screenshots of text messages with someone who isn't on your close friends story.

Ah, the holy grail. The receipts. It could be a fight with your mum, a Hinge match with a god complex, or a weirdly passive-aggressive text from a colleague. This is the peak of digital intimacy. You are letting us into the inner sanctum, and we are forever in your debt.

Late-night videos from a house party.

I'm talking about a 2am, blurry video from a kitchen kick-on where some random guy is trying to explain the entire plot of Interstellar using salt and pepper shakers. The vibe is chaotic, the lighting is terrible, and things are getting… weird (you know what I'm saying).

Selfie videos of you complaining about work.

A selfie video of you whispering furiously in your car during your lunch break about how Brenda from accounts used the last of the oat milk again. I want to see the rage in your eyes. I want to feel your corporate pain. This is a safe space for us to collectively hate Brenda (and trust me bestie, we do).

Selfie videos of you giving us office gossip.

The sequel to your work rant. This is a selfie video where you give us the juicy office gossip. Who's secretly dating? Who's about to get fired? Who microwaved mackerel in the communal kitchen? This is better than any reality TV show I've personally come across.

Evidence of you getting drunk on a Wednesday.

A photo of a half-empty bottle of wine and a pizza box on a Wednesday night. A blurry vid of you and a colleague doing tequila shots at a near-empty pub on a Tuesday. Nothing says "I trust you" like broadcasting your poor impulse control on a weeknight. It makes me feel better about my own life choices and don't worry, I promise to return the favour next Wednesday.

Your new (and preferably hot) friends.

It is your civic duty to soft-launch any new friends to your Close Friends list. I'm talking about a candid video of them laughing, a thirst-trap-adjacent photo from your last night out, or even just a flattering picture with the caption "new bestie alert". It helps drive competition. Who is this new firend? Will this friend replace me? Why haven't I been posted yet? Your close friends list is now the colosseum and we, the gladiators. We're ready to fight for our spot.

A selfie of you looking violently hungover followed by a selfie on your main story looking great.

On Close Friends, I want to see the unfiltered reality: you, looking like you wrestled a possum at 4am, sunglasses on inside, clutching a Powerade for dear life. An hour later, on your main story? A beaming, glowing selfie with the caption "So lovely celebrating Nana's 60th!" This is performance art. This is the duality of woman. This is close friends.

You doing literally anything outdoorsy when you should be at work.

You've called in sick to work, but your Close Friends story shows you at the beach. Or Bunnings. Or getting a midday mani. The sheer audacity is something I respect on a cellular level. You're not sick, you're just sick of working. Same, girl. Same.

If single: Screenshots of horrible dating profiles.

Please, I'm begging you, show me the screenshots of the horrible dating profiles. The men holding up fish. The gym selfies with inspirational quotes. The bios that just say "I love the beach." It is a public service. It reminds us all that we are not alone in the digital hellscape of modern dating.

If in a relationship: Screenshots of your partner's bank statements.

I'm kidding (kinda). But I do want to see screenshots of your partner doing something deeply annoying, like leaving a wet towel on the bed or sending you a ridiculous TikTok. Show me the imperfect, everyday reality of your relationship. That's far more interesting than another perfect couple selfie.

So, there you have it. The non-negotiable terms and conditions of my presence on your Close Friends list. Consider this your official performance review. Don't make me regret tapping that green circle.

If you want more from Emily Vernem, you can follow her on Instagram @emilyvernem.

Feature image: Supplied/Canva