Who Dies First In 'Intimate Friend'?

I just finished reading 'Intimate Friend', and the death that hits first is surprisingly impactful. It's not the main character but their closest friend, Jia. The way the author handles it is brutal yet poetic—Jia dies in a car accident, but what makes it sting is the buildup. You see their bond grow through shared secrets, late-night talks, and tiny moments of vulnerability. Then, in one abrupt scene, it's gone. The aftermath is even more heartbreaking. The main character spirals, questioning everything, and the story shifts from a lighthearted friendship tale to a raw exploration of grief. What stands out is how Jia's death isn't just a plot device; it lingers in every chapter afterward, affecting relationships, decisions, even the protagonist's sense of identity. The author doesn't shy away from showing the messy, ugly side of loss—the guilt, the 'what ifs,' the way grief warps time. It's a masterclass in making a side character's death feel like the core of the story.

The symbolism here is sharp too. Jia's death mirrors the fragility of human connections in the modern world—fast, unexpected, leaving unfinished business. The car crash isn't described graphically; instead, the focus is on the phone call delivering the news, the silence afterward, the way life keeps moving while the protagonist is stuck. It's a reminder of how death doesn't just take a person; it steals futures, inside jokes, possibilities. The narrative doesn't offer cheap comfort, either. Even by the end, the grief isn't 'solved,' just carried differently. That honesty is what makes Jia's death unforgettable.

In 'Intimate Friend', the first major death is Jia, the protagonist's ride-or-die. It happens early, setting the tone for the whole book. The author doesn't drag it out—one chapter they're laughing together, the next, Jia's gone. What sticks with me is how ordinary the tragedy feels. No villains, no dramatic last words, just a random accident. The protagonist's reaction feels painfully real too. They don't cry dramatically; they numb out, replay memories, even get angry at Jia for leaving. The story becomes less about the death itself and more about how grief rewires a person. Small details hit hard, like the protagonist keeping Jia's half-finished text thread or avoiding their favorite coffee shop. It's a quiet kind of devastation that lingers.