AUTHOR'S POV

The room was dim , curtains drawn tightly against the stubborn morning light that kept trying to sneak inside . Even the sun seemed to fail in its duty, unable to rouse the two figures tangled beneath the heavy blanket .

One of them stirred, the blanket slipping down to her waist as she sat up and stretched, arms arching lazily above her head. Her long, hip-length hair tumbled down her back, a few rebellious strands falling across her face. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, fighting the last traces of sleep, and blinked into the dusky quiet of the room.

Her hazel-brown eyes wandered to the other side of the bed–only to find a figure completely cocooned in the blanket, wrapped so tightly it resembled a burrito. A soft sigh slipped past her lips as her gaze shifted to the room itself—clothes thrown carelessly across the floor, a couple of things knocked over from the night before, and two suitcases standing neatly packed by the balcony door, waiting to leave.

She pushed the blanket off herself and let her feet touch the cool floor. The straps of her satin camisole slipped loosely down one shoulder, but she ignored it and padded toward the curtains. With a swift tug, she drew them apart.

Blinding sunlight spilled into the room, tearing away its drowsy atmosphere. A muffled groan rose from under the blanket.

She moved next to the dressing table, flicking on the switch. The room lit up fully now, chasing away every shadow. Picking up a matte baby-pink clutcher from the table, she gathered her long hair, twisting it into a messy bun as she walked back toward the bed. 

Without hesitation, she yanked the blanket away in one quick pull, exposing the person beneath.

"Vid, wake up. " Her voice was firm yet affectionate as she bent down to shake the person’s arm–gently at first, then with more force.

The only response was a lazy hum, the person curling inward again, unbothered by the sudden loss of warmth.

" We’ll be late for our journey…and you already take forever to get ready."She sighed, dropping onto the beside the person, snatching her phone from the nightstand.

Suddenly, the figure shot up and threw her arms around her in a tight hug. “Aashu! We’re going on a road trip. Just the two of us…..finallyyy!!” her voice sparkled with excitement.

Aashi chuckled, shaking her head. "Aren't you a little too happy for someone who just had a breakup yesterday? At least pretend to be heartbroken so I feel like my best friend actually went through one. " 

Vidhi pulled away with a dramatic flip of her hair, her grin wicked. “Ohh please!! He wasn’t even a fraction of my precious, exclusive tears.”

 AASHI'S POV

I chuckled at her not-so-good antics. She had broken up with her boyfriend--opps, ex—because the poor guy had the audacity to call her while the princess was taking her beauty sleep. Like seriously, who does that? Well, VIDHI MEHRA does.

And when I confronted her about it…. Let’s just say this wasn’t my first rodeo. Her past boyfriends–so many that even I’ve lost count–always came to me crying after she dumped them. The excuses she gave were so ridiculous that sometimes even I wondered if they could really be called reasons for a breakup.

Just like this time. According to her, if he couldn’t even sense when she was resting, what good was he as a boyfriend? So she broke up with him. For her, being in a relationship wasn’t about love, romance, or any of that mushy stuff like other couples. It was always some new ‘test’ to prove that the poor guy wasn’t worthy enough. None of them had lasted more than a week…but this one? He somehow survived two whole weeks. For a moment, I actually thought—mil gaye jijaji. But clearly my happiness doesn't fit into Princess Vidhi Mehra’s world of chaos.

Rumours about her being a playgirl run wild in our college— how she discards guys like they’re yesterday’s trash. But the truth? Even her hands are virgin, a fact nobody ever believes. Do we care? Absolutely not. People can go to hell with their gossip. 

"How many times have I told you to stop all this? " I tried to sound stern, but both of us knew better. We got off the bed together, lazily gathering the mess of clothes and random things we had tossed around last night while packing for our road trip—-to Goa.

We’d been dreaming of this trip for ages, but college life kept us so suffocated that we barely had time to breathe, forget about travelling. Now, finally, we had the perfect excuse–exam preparatory leave.

Travelling is  as equally important as studying, and if we didn’t take the trip now, then definitely this trip will be clouding our minds during exams. So technically….we were saving our exams. I know, such a big sacrifice.

" What! Aashu, it's not my fault they can't cooperate with me. And it's not like I proposed to any of them–they did.” Her hand flew dramatically in the air as she defended herself. She winked before adding “All I did was give them a chance to prove their so-called love—which, obviously, existed only in their heads. "

" Are Devi, apka upkaar un becharon par…ab ek mujh par bhi karde, jake tayaar ho jaa. " I joined my hands in  mock reverence, rolling my eyes at her.

“Bilkul balike, tumhe mai apni agle janam ki saari tapasya ka phal deti hoon. ” She raised a hand in blessing, like some saint distributing boons.

I scrunched my nose at her, narrowing my eyes. “ By the way…I hope you’ve digested the fact that we are using our preparatory leave for this trip without telling our families.”

“Of course!!”she pouted, before adding, “What do you think, that I told mom about it?” 

I stayed silent, just staring at her.

Now here’s the thing about Vidhi– If you ever tell her to keep something secret, she’ll blurt it out faster than breaking news, making it the most trending gossip. That’s why we had agreed not to tell our parents. It wasn’t that they would forbid us, but we’d have to endure endless lectures first. By the end of it, our will to travel would evaporate and then they will be like go ahead enjoy your journey. Ah! Indian parents. 

We kept staring at each other until she finally muttered something so low it was almost inaudible, that it was one step from being completely mute.

“What?”I raised a brow.

She bit her lips, put on the most pitiable face in the world, and whispered a little louder this time.“It….. slipped.”

“VIDHI!!” I growled at her, I knew that this girl can’t just keep her mouth shut.

“Sorry, gal–Ahh!!”She yelped as I hurled a pillow, straight at her face with a satisfying thud. She peeled it off dramatically like she’d been assassinated.

I gave her my best I’m-so-done-with-you glare, but she only grinned sheeplessily.

“Don’t worry,”she said, patting her chest proudly. “I already listened to the lecture on your behalf too.”

“So…they agreed?” I asked suspiciously. Knowing Mom, there was no way in heaven she’d allow a trip if she knew what kind of leave we were using.

“Aur nhi tho kya..” She flipped her hair and shrugged. “I told them I was heartbroken after my breakup, and this trip will help me heal so I could focus on my studies again” she even faked wiping away her crocodile tears. I just rolled my eyes.Typical Vidhi.

Yesterday, after her so-called sacrifice for the welfare of mankind–her words, not mine. She decided to celebrate the fact that this particular guy had survived the longest.Since we’d been planning a trip forever, she nagged me until I gave in.

So last night, we stayed up packing clothes and planning a week-long trip—sidha exam se ek din pehle wapis…khi dekha hai hum dono jaisa confident insaan—the room was a disaster zone by the time we were done, but who cares? It was all part of fun. Since it was a road trip, we didn’t need flight bookings, but the drive would take at least eleven hours. Even if we sped, maybe six or seven.

“Hmm…You have one hour to get ready,” I said, giving her a deliberately sharp look, “or else.”

She bolted to the bathroom in a flash. I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I walked out of her room.

We live together in a penthouse, our rooms are adjacent to each other. When we first moved in, the place looked too rich, too polished—like a hotel suite rather than a home. But after months of adding our own touch, it became cozy and warm, now it has the perfect vibes of a home. Our home. 

Vidhi and I have been inseparable since diapers. Our parents are best friends too, which only made our bond stronger. As teens, we’d always dreamed of living together, and after finishing our school in our hometown Surat, we flew off to London for our graduation.

Three years abroad made us miss home, though. No matter how far you run, at the end of the day, the heart craves its own soil. Its own home—because it is the only place where you find solace. So, after coming  back, we settled in Pune for our MBA—together, just like we always wanted.

I punched the passcode on the sleek handle, and with a soft click, the door swung open. The switchboard sat right beside the frame; one click of my finger and the room bathed in a warm glow, chasing away the pale strands of morning light that had slipped through the curtains.

As always, my room looked exactly how I liked it–neat, calm and perfectly mine. My space never failed to calm me—it was like stepping into a cocoon I’d built around myself.

The room stretched wide, layered in beige and ivory tones with hints of soft gold, a palette that made the space feel airy yet intimate. Floor-to-ceilingcurtains framed the balcony doors, their sheer white layers swaying slightly in the morning breeze that had slipped through the tiny gap I’d left last night. Beyond them lay the balcony–my favorite spot–with its cane swing chair, potted plants climbing lazily in corners. At night, the balcony turned into a private galaxy of fairy lights, but now it was bathed in sun, quietly reminding me a new day had begun.

The queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, upholstered in an off-white headboard with buttoned detailing. Its plush white duvet was neatly folded at the edge, its cream coloured sheets smoothed flat. Beige walls blended effortlessly with the white accents of furniture, wrapping the space in a cozy warmth that felt like a soft embrace. A soft rug lay at its foot, warm against my bare toes. To the left, a sleek dressing table gleamed under a warm lamp, scattered with a few daily essentials—a perfume bottle, a moisturizer, lip balm—-the only place which can never be organised.

My eyes drifted to the wall clock. The black hands were pinned together exactly at eight..…Woww what an exact time…na jyada na kam, just perfect. 

Placing my phone on the dressing table, I padded to the opposite side, where stood a sliding glass door that opened into my bathroom and walk-in closet. A space I had fought hard to design. The bathroom wasn't oversized, but it carried a quiet luxury—marble tiles, warm lighting, a rainfall shower and a vanity where I could spend hours.

My satin camisole and shorts slipped into the laundry bags as I stepped under the shower. Cold water spilled over me in a steady rhythm. My hair–long, thick, and almost annoyingly endless–soaked up the water greedily. Dhote jao, dhote jao, dhatt. I laughed to myself, this was the daily battle.

Half an hour later, I shut off the shower, pulling two towels from a nearby rack. One I twisted around my hair, the other I wrapped snugly around myself. The mirror caught my flushed face as I left the bathroom and turned left–staright into my closet.

It wasn’t a walk-in place, but it was mine. Originally it was just a spare stretch of wall in the bathroom, I’d insisted on tearing it open, carving out a tiny, functional walk-in space. Now, soft spotlights glowed on rows of clothes lined with precision, shoes stacked neatly below, and shelves filled with fabrics that smelled faintly of roses. My smell. 

I had done a lot of changes in this room, especially after we–as in me and Vidhi—decided on opening our company in Pune only. We needed a place that gave corporate exposure, and this city had the pulse we were looking for.

Two years ago, Aviraa was just us–two girls sketching late into the night, chasing a dream with coffee and chaos. Now, it was a name people whispered with admiration. We both became the co-founder of….

AVIRAA—where elegance finds its form. 

Our pride. Our creation. Our Aviraa.

I smiled, running my hand over the neatly hung shirts. From childhood, jewels fascinated me—not wearing them, but designing them. Strange, right? I loved how a curve of gold or a tiny diamond could amplify beauty by a thousand, but on myself, I kept it minimal, almost rare. Vidhi, on the other hand, adored dressing herself in her own designs, clothes that carried her signature flair. 

Different passions, same fire. Together, we had carved our dream into reality. We pursued designing but in different fields, however that thing couldn’t separate us. When we were discussing our brand name, we both wanted something that reflects us, so after a lot of searching and scrolling we made this–Aviraa.

Aviraa means eternal strength and fearless radiance. ‘A’ in it stands for Aashi and ‘Vi’ for Vidhi, after we merged our names it was not to our satisfaction level, so we added ‘Raa’ to it which means shine. Then we got our perfect name. Our own brand. Our Aviraa.

Finally I pulled out an oversized plaid shirt in a black and brown color scheme, slipping it over a black camisole and pairing it with fitted black pants. I puffed the long sleeves to my elbows, buttoned it down neatly, and tied the look together  with crisp white sneakers…perfect for a road trip.

I stepped back into the bedroom, my towel-dried hair tumbling as I secured it with a matte white clutcher from the dressing table. Music played softly from my phone, I loved these little rituals, humming and swaying as I dressed up–it lit up my mornings in ways nothing else did.

Reaching for my moisturizer, I worked it gently into my skin, then tugged open the top drawer for my lip balm… when my fingers brushed against a small velvet box.I paused.

Slowly, I lifted it out. The small, wine-colored box opened with a soft snap, revealing my lucky charm—my very first design.

The ring caught the light immediately— It was a dual-band ring, with one band appearing smooth made of gold and the other encrusted with small, clear diamonds. They twisted together at the top, forming a golden knot. My design. My beginning. That knot wasn’t just jewelry—it was a promise, a symbol of ties that last forever. 

I slipped it into my ring finger, the weight of it familiar yet rare, since I barely ever wore jewelry. Still, today it felt right. After applying my lip balm, I picked up my phone. One last glance at the beige-and-white haven of my room, and I stepped out toward the living room, the quiet warmth of my space left behind as excitement for the day ahead began to stir.

We both live in a penthouse–SKYLINE ELEVEN– on the top floor. Till date, I’m still curious about its name. I mean, there are more than twenty penthouses in the building, so why eleven? And ‘skyline’? Please. It doesn't even touch the sky. There are buildings around us taller, shinier, grander. But still, whenever I say it out loud–Skyline Eleven—it sounds like something that belongs in a movie, and maybe that’s enough.  

The penthouse is huge–six bedrooms, a living room that can host a small wedding, a kitchen that looks like it belongs in a magazine. Yet, despite all that space, only two bedrooms are alive—mine and Vidhi’s. The other four? Useless. Silent. Ghostly. They only come into existence when someone from our family visits—which they did till now once, because currently it’s only been six months since we started living here—otherwise they’re the kind of rooms that creak in the night and make you imagine shadows. Honestly, I avoid that hallway when I’m alone. But Vidhi? She is a chudail, who thrives on my fear.

Every time I begged her to renovate them into something useful–-a studio, a library, gym–she smirked and said no. That satan loves my horrified face when I run across the corridor like some cartoon character. I am telling you, she is a satan…a real one, who is wrapped in a human body and ofcourse ek bhoot ko hi dusre bhoot ki company achi lagti hai, tabhi tho mana kardeti hai haar baar.

At last she finally gave in. After our trip, we’ve promised to decide what to do with them.

But the rest of the penthouse? It’s our world. The living room is massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that pour sunlight onto cream couches and a baby pink rug so soft your feet seek in. The glass wall opens to a long balcony wrapped in fairy lights, where we sometimes sit at night with tea or coffee, music, and our endless chattering. The open kitchen flows right into the living room, sleek with white marble counters glowing under pendant lights. It looked elegant and expensive–-though 90% of the time, it’s filled with sketches, coffee mugs, tea cups, and random late-night snacks. That’s just our brand of ‘organized chaos’.

And this morning, stepping into that perfect mix of homely warmth and quiet luxury—-

What the heck!!

Am I dreaming..??

I rubbed my eyes, pinched my arm, even tapped my cheek twice, but nope…the view in front of me wasn't changing.

"Are you done?" Vidhi rolled her eyes, flipping something on the pan with the elegance of someone who had done it all her life. Note the sarcasm.

"Bro.. I think I’m hallucinating, because no way in reality THE VIDHI MEHRA is ready on time, and that too before me" I gasped dramatically, hurrying towards her. She was standing confidently on the other side of our marble kitchen island.

I leaned across the counter and placed my hand on her forehead “Teri tabiyat tho theek hai na?…Aur tu kitchen mai?” My tone was dead serious, but the teasing glint in my eyes and the twitch tugging at my lips gave me away. 

She slapped my hand away and pouted like a five-year-old. My eyes instinctively scanned her outfit–she wore a creamy-white ribbed V-neck thin sweater with puffed three-quarter sleeves, tucked neatly into high-waisted light-wash jeans. A simple silver pendant caught the light at her collarbone, her watch sat snugly on her wrist, and her hair neatly clutched behind. And of course, she had paired them with the same crisp white sneakers I was wearing. Bestie Goals!!.

“Ye khane layak hai na?” I asked, pointing at the toast which she had been flipping for an eternity now. 

“Don’t you dare to touch it now!!” she warned, pointing the spatula at me like it was a sword , after placing the toast on a nearby plate.

But before she could react, I snatched the plate off the counter and grinned wickedly. “Too late.” I stuffed a piece in my mouth, hopping onto the counter like I owned the place.

And then–out of the corner of my eye—I caught something. My chewing slowed. My head tilted. And the next second, I choked violently on the toast. 

Vidhi, unfazed, rolled her eyes and slid the glass of water across the counter toward me. “Nautanki,” she muttered under her breath, going back to her cooking.

“Nhi nhi, bata de! Tu kya chahti hai ki main sach mein shock se hospital chali jau?” I spluttered, still staring at her in utter disbelief.  

Because honestly? From morning, she had been nothing but a bundle of surprises. First, she got ready before me—a rare phenomenon that had happened only once in the twenty three years of our friendship. This girl usually couldn’t wake up before nine even with three alarms, and today at nine she is making breakfast. Second, she had already dragged both our suitcases down by herself. Vidhi Mehra voluntarily lifting luggage? Impossible. Without any tantrum. And yet–there they were. Lined up neatly at the entrance— patiently waiting for our arrival. I bet if this was some other time, she didn't have touched a single one….but today, she has some different level of energy in her.

“Kitna natak karegi….kabhi-kabhi tho mujhse princess treatment milta hai. Appreciate it, babe!!” She winked at me, smirking as if she hadn’t just broken her own lifelong record.

“I still think I’m  dreaming,” I said through a mouth full of toast.

She carried her own plate, sat beside me, and without warning, pinched both my cheeks–-hard. I yelped, swatting her hand away while rubbing at the redness. 

Ughhh!! I hate it.Why is everyone obsessed with my cheeks?They love to squeeze them or pinch them. Like I know they are soft and fluffy like some cotton but…they’re my cheeks, and they hurt when people treat them like stress balls.

"Aa gyi na sapne se bahar? Ya phir dubara karu " she grinned wickedly, eyes sparkling.

We ended up eating together, laughing, tossing gossip back and forth in that cozy kitchen. After washing our plates, we headed into the living room. Vidhi grabbed her light-colored sling bag with its golden strap, tossing her hair back like some movie heroine.

I snatched my Mercedes keys from the cute wooden key-holder by the main gate–handmade by yours truly. That car was my Dad’s 21’st birthday gift to me, a sleek black Mercedes that still made me grin every time I drove it. 

Did I ever tell you my dad is a diamond merchant? His company deals in every kind of precious jewel but mostly diamonds. Perks of being his daughter? Half of my design materials came straight from his collection. Paisa bachta hai, aur waise bhi…Dad mujhse paise thodi na lenge.

We locked the penthouse securely and rolled our suitcases to the elevator. Vidhi pressed the parking button with an exaggerated flair, and the doors slid shut.

As soon as the elevator started gliding downwards, a shrill ringtone pierced through the steel walls, making me wince. With an awkward smile tugging at my lips, I fumbled in my pants pocket and pulled out my phone, blinking innocently at her–though the glare she shot me was enough to burn a hole through my head. I know, I know. My horrible habit of keeping every single volume setting at its absolute maximum always gets on her nerves. Honestly, if my phone rings in a library, half the population might actually go deaf. 

‘DAD’ with a heart emoji flashed on the screen. My face instantly softened, my thumb sweeping the green icon without a second thought, before pressing the screen against my ear.

"Good morning dad "my voice brimmed with happiness, like it always does when I talk to him. 

"Good morning, my princess " his chuckle filtered through, warm and safe. "I know you’re grown up now, but still, please take care of yourself  bo–" 

"Dad!” I interrupted with a dramatic pout—though he couldn’t see it, he knew exactly what I was doing. “ It's not the first time we’re going somewhere on our own….You are forgetting we had lived alone in London for the whole three years” 

At the mere mention of dad, Vidhi snatched the phone right out of my hand, plopping it on the speaker before I could protest. Typical. Our families are practically fused at the hip, so none of this is new.

"Good morning, cutie uncle! " Vidhi chirped with over-the-top enthusiasm--is ladki ko dekh ke koi nhi kahega iska kal breakup hua hai ise jyada dukh tho mujhe ho rha hai iske breakup ka. She’s been calling my dad cutie uncle since childhood–a nickname he treasures. He’s always treated her like his second daughter, never forgetting her while buying gifts for me and  Kashvi—my younger cousin sister, who is pursuing MBBS from Surat only. 

The same way her dad is my Santa. When we were kids, he was the one who used to dress up in a Santa suit and deliver our Christmas presents. From that day, he became my Santa forever–-my secret-keeper, my partner in endless chatter. Whenever we meet, we literally talk like two long-lost best friends, and God saves everyone around us.

"Good morning, cutiepie!" Dad’s voice sparkled with his usual enthusiasm, snapping me out of the memory.

"And I was saying…”he continued, his tone shifting, “you might have gone alone before, and even lived too,  but guards were always with you. This time, you both aren’t taking them along, and you’re traveling by road. It can be dangerous. Just be careful, alright? Your mom is already worried–”..so-" 

Ah. Classic Dad. Forever in trouble when Mom is hovering nearby. I swear, his respect for her is something I admire endlessly. He’s the perfect father, the perfect husband…and I hope someday I find someone just like him.

Before I could reply, Vidhi sighed dramatically, cutting him off mid sentence. "Cutie uncle, you know naa…I just had a breakup. Obviously, I’m sad. I just need some alone time to move on from this pain”. Her voice cracked with such conviction that anyone who didn’t know her would think she’d been left shattered. Reality? She dumped the poor guy for such an insane reason and now she is going to celebrate. And I clearly can’t see any-type of healing program in this.

I scoffed loudly enough for her to hear, which earned me a cringe-worthy air kiss from her. I scrunched my nose in disgust, glaring daggers. She only grinned in response.

"Mujhe toh us ladke ke liye bura lag rha tha,” Divya aunty’s voice floated in from the other end, laced with humour. “Bechara….acha hua bach gaya." 

That did it– I burst into laughter.

"Mom!" Vidhi whined, while muffled giggles echoed in the background. Clearly the Mehra’s and Khanna’s were having breakfast together.

"Aashu beta, why did she break up this time?" Divya aunty asked, half curious, half exasperated. 

I snatched my phone back, smirking at Vidhi’s murderous glare."You won't believe this, aunty. That poor soul's only crime was…he dared to disturb her beauty sleep" I dragged out the last two words just to annoy her.

"You did right, angel! " Jay uncle–my santa chimed in, his voice firm with approval.

“Aww…thanku, Dad!” Vidhi beamed, patting her shoulder as if she’d just won the Nobel Peace Prize.

“Are you both father-daughter out of your minds?” Divu aunty finally snapped. “Instead of scolding her, you’re supporting her?” It seems like today Santa had to sleep out of their room. Poor him. 

We finally stepped out of the elevator, dragging our luggage behind us, still tangled in family chatter.

Vidhi slid into the driver;s seat while I settled into my rightful throne as passenger princess–for the first half at least. It's a long eleven-hour road trip, we’d be taking turns. Our suitcases rested in the backseat, because it was looking too lonely.

"Mom, ye ek sacrifice hai jo main jo main karti hu,”Vidhi announced dramatically, flipping her hair. “Instead of praising me, you’re scolding me, that's not fair.Be happy that your daughter is contributing to the welfare of this world. " 

A long silence stretched, I stared at her with the blankest 'are you serious?' look,  and I could almost hear the synchronized facepalms happening on the other end of the call.

Finally, aunty sighed " Continue your sacrifice…and have a happy, safe trip. If I talk to you any longer, I swear I’ll lose my mind. Tu call rakh.”

The line filled with laughter, Vidhi pouted at the phone, and both families showered us with enough safety instructions as though we were launching into space. Seriously—It’s just a road trip. Not a mission to Mars.

I ended the call, and the moment our eyes met—
“Yehhhhhhh!!!”
We screamed in unison at the top of our voices, throwing ourselves into each other’s arms, crushing bones and hearts alike.

“Finally, Vidhu!”
“Finally, Aashu!”

We both said at the same time before bursting into laughter, the kind that leaves your cheeks aching but your soul lighter.

This is our world. Just us. Pure. Blissful. Warm. A tiny bubble stitched together with inside jokes, reckless love, and unshakable trust. No matter how clumsy I am or how idiotic she can be, we always end up laughing at our problems, shooing them far away from our lives.

Reluctantly, we pulled apart, settled into our seats, I whispered a quick prayer to Narayan for a safe journey, and she set the car in motion.

“Yaar…we dreamt about this so many times, and finally—it’s real.” Her voice was hushed, dreamy, eyes soft with wonder.

“Map lagau..??” I raised my brow at her.

She shot me a side glance, dripping with sarcasm. ““Nhi..why will we need a map, Goa tho mera roj ka up-down hai”

I gave her a tight-lipped smile and keyed the destination into the navigation anyway. Unlocking my phone, I opened Snapchat—sundar dikhne ka raaj. I angled it so both of us could come into the frame, choosing a sunlight filter. The shutter clicked the moment Vidhi’s smile bloomed across her face, hands steady on the wheel. Perfect. I’ll post an aesthetic story after reaching there, till then let's collect photos.

“This ring…” Her voice drew me back. She glanced briefly at the band on my finger before returning her gaze to the road.“You wore it after a long time.”

I lifted my hand, nodded. “Yeah. Just… felt like wearing it today.”

My fingers absentmindedly traced the grooves of the metal. That strange feeling stirred again—the one that had been coiling inside me since last night. Excitement, maybe. Nervousness, possibly. Or something far beyond either. My soul kept whispering that after this trip, nothing would ever be the same again.

I don't know if it's something bad or good. But it is something.

The last time I wore this ring was on my birthday. Today, its box had brushed against my hand as if…urging me to wear it. Almost as if someone else needed this ring….or me.

“Aashu?” Vidhi’s voice cut through the fog of my thoughts.

“Huh?” I blinked, disoriented. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even heard her.

“I’ve been calling you for the last five minutes. Where were you lost?” She gave me a fleeting glance before fixing her eyes back on the road.

I sighed, lowering my gaze to the ring. “Don’t know, Vid. It…It just feels like….I don’t know anything, but there is some kind of weird–very weird feeling growing in my pit, which I can’t explain.”

“You’re overthinking, Aashu” Her tone was light, reassuring. “Let’s just enjoy the trip. Everything will be fine.”

Maybe she is right. Maybe I am really thinking too much.

Hey Narayan, bas kuch bura na hu. I still silently offered a prayer to my narayan.

To steer me away from my own spiraling thoughts, she asked, “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Hmm… we’ll reach around three or four. And honestly, exhaustion won’t let us do much.”  I replied to her, forgetting about my previous dilemma…for now. 

“So basically, a wasted day,” she groaned in displeasure.

I tapped my chin, then suddenly clapped my hands with excitement. “Night club?” I raised my brows, hopeful.

Her eyes widened before she grinned and gave me a thumbs up. “Best.”

By one in the afternoon, hunger struck hard. Very badly. Vidhi, of course, reminded me for the fifth time how she had driven an entire hour extra because we hadn’t stopped to switch,so we– I– didn’t change the seats.

After having our lunch, I will be the one to drive.Ughhh!!.

“See, there’s a dhaba!” I pointed eagerly at a small structure by the highway.

She hesitated, voice uncertain. “Tujhe nahi lagta…Mercedes se dhaba jaana thoda ajeeb hoga?”

I laughed. “Ajeeb kyu? Khane ke liye hi toh jaa rahe hain. How does it matter if we are from Mercedes or not?”

Her reluctance lingered on her face. I tried again. “I know you like–scratch that– you love dhaba food as much as I do…..acha if you want we can park a little away, than take a walk to there” I looked at her expectantly trying to reason with her, while we are waiting at the side of road for madam to grace us with her precious yes.

After a pause, she gave a tiny smile. “Chalo, let’s just go like this.” She ignited the engine moving towards our destination– where my lovely food awaits for me with open arms.

Looks like luck is with us, the dhaba was quiet, almost too quiet. No customers, just a couple of workers lounging inside. We parked to the side and stepped out, phones in hand. Silence wrapped around us, broken only by the hum of passing trucks on the highway.

The signboard above the entrance read Ghar Dhaba in bold red letters, stretching almost the length of the building. A faded arrow pointed towards it from the roadside tree, swaying faintly with the breeze.

I grabbed the glass door and pushed. It didn’t budge. Is the place closed.?

My brows knit. “Arre…ye toh band hai.”

Vidhi, absorbed in her phone, looked up. She stared at me, then at the door, then at me again, almost as if doubting my existence….…..itni jaldi pagal ho gyi ye. With a sigh, she stepped forward, pushed me aside and pulled the door outward—and it opened smoothly.

I blinked. Haiiii abhi tho nhi khula tha ye.

She gave me a mocking bow, lips pressed in a thin line, gesturing dramatically for me to enter first.

Ignoring her, I stepped in. Not my fault. They should’ve written push or pull. How was I supposed to know?.

“Wahhh, Aashi Devi….Apke jeevan ko twenty-three saal ho gye par aj tak apko ek darwaja khulna nhi aya.” She clapped sarcastically, giving me a proud look….fake one, while walking beside me.

I pouted. “Not my fault,” I muttered, already grinning.I took a seat below the ceiling fan while she settled opposite me.  

“Common sense kehte hain use,” she added with a roll of her eyes.

Before I could snap back at her, a waiter appeared beside our table. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen or twenty, a skinny boy with a faded shirt and trousers, a pinkish-red printed scarf draped across his shoulder. In one hand he held a small pocket diary, in the other a ballpoint pen, poised like he was ready to scribble every word with utmost seriousness.

“Namaste, didi. Kya rahega aapka?” he asked softly, his voice polite and oddly sweet.

I smiled back in the same polite way. “Namaste, bhaiya. Aap menu dijiye, hum batate hain.”

He nodded, plucked a laminated menu from the table nearby, set it gently on our table, and left.

The moment his footsteps faded, Vidhi flipped the menu open with a speed that made me raise a brow. This was the same girl who, ten minutes ago, was fussing about how ‘Mercedes se dhaba jaana ajeeb hoga.’ Now, she was rifling through the pages like the dishes might jump out straight onto her plate.

“Menu hi khayegi kya?” I teased, snatching it from her hands.

Her eyes narrowed instantly. She lunged for it, but too late. I had already lifted it high above my head, giving her a smug grin of victory.

“Order kar na jaldi! Since this morning, my poor body is surviving on just one toast.” She pouted dramatically, patting her stomach giving a so much bechari type expression.

I chuckled,“Hmm… toh kya mangwaya jaye?” flipping through the pages trying to find something tongue-catching. Jaise aankhon ke liye eye-catching hota hai, waise hi khane ke liye tongue-catching bhi hona chahiye.

“Just don’t order Chinese,” she muttered, scrolling absently on her phone.

My eyes narrowed. “Tu phone mein kya kar rahi hai? Hawww… mujhe dhoka toh nahi de rahi?” I gasped, covering my mouth in fake shock.

She shot me a withering look. “Bhkk!!…Pagal hai kya. Kuch bhi.”

I leaned closer, glaring suspiciously at the phone. “Sach sach bata.” How can she be surfing through her phone when we are out on a girls trip…huhhh!!.

Rolling her eyes, she shoved the screen in my face. “Oh nautanki!! I’m looking up nightclubs in Goa.”

“Ohh.” I returned to the menu, pretending my little jealous outburst hadn’t just happened.

The waiter returned when I beckoned him, wiping his hands on the scarf draped across his shoulder. Pen and diary ready, he waited with the patience of a saint.

“Ek full plate Kadai Paneer,” I said, counting on my fingers, and looked at Vidhi for confirmation, once she nodded then bhaiya scribbled that down.

“Six Butter Naan.”

“Ek full plate Jeera Rice.”

“Half plate Aloo Gobhi Mas–” “ Full rahega”she cut me in between and bhaiya jolted down.

I rolled my eyes but continued. “Full plate Khandvi.”

“Dal Dhokli,” Vidhi added quickly, then glanced at me. “Full.”

Once the long recital was over, I closed the menu and slid it aside. “Bas bhaiya, abhi ke liye itna hi.”

“Bas itna?” Vidhi frowned, reaching for the menu again. Arghh!! This girl.

“Oh, no you don’t.” I whisked it away, this time putting it safely on the empty table behind me. “Vidhu, don’t forget we still have to travel after this. Yeh sab kaafi hai.” 

She pouted, clearly dissatisfied, but didn’t argue back knowing how right I am…well I am always, just this world couldn’t accept this.

Bhaiya scribbled dutifully, then glanced at us with a polite smile. “Tho didi, aur chair lagwa dun isi table pe?”

We both blinked, confused. Vidhi spoke first. “Aur chair? Kiske liye?”

By then, another worker had already appeared, dragging a chair towards us. The waiter nodded at him, still smiling faintly. “Aapke saath aur log aa rahe hain na.”

Vidhi and I exchanged baffled looks. “Nahi bhaiya,” she said firmly. “Hum dono hi hain, humne kab kaha ki aur log hai?”

The boy hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Nahi, aapne toh nahi kaha… lekin aapne order bahut saare logon ke liye kiya hai, toh laga ki bas aate honge.” He forced a small, nervous smile. “Koi baat nahi… aap bata dijiye kitna pack karna hai baaki ka.” and waved to the previous worker to go from here.

Vidhi and I stared at each other, wide-eyed. What the hell? We hadn’t ordered that much. In fact, today we’d kept it deliberately light, mindful of the long drive ahead.

Now here we were, locked in an eye-battle with the unspoken caption: “You clear the confusion.”

“Didi?” The waiter’s voice broke our silent game. His polite smile lingered.

I forced a grin. “Nhi bhaiya… kisi ke liye pack nahi karna. Na hi koi aa raha hai. Vo–poora khana hum dono ke liye hi hai.” My tone was casual, but my fingers tightened around the glass of water as I avoided his gaze, sipping while staring at the plain wall in front of me. Anything to escape those judgy eyes.

Vidhi cleared her throat, and the boy seemed to snap out of whatever expression had been on his face. “Ji, didi,” he muttered quickly and hurried away.

“He must be seeing someone eat this much for the first time,” Vidhi deadpanned, sinking back into her chair.

“Thank God I didn’t order more, or the poor soul would’ve fainted right here.” I touched my hand first to my chest, then my forehead, sending a silent prayer to god. We both chuckled lightly, shaking off the awkwardness.

“But I am still ordering my sweet dishes,” I added, lips pursed in fake misery. Her laughter cut short instantly. She shot me a glare sharp enough to slice through my appetite.

I clasped my hands dramatically. “Pleaaaase, Vidhu! Meri pyari Vidhu.”

“No. Not even a glance.” Her arms crossed, her tone colder than an ice cube. Such a cold hearted person she is. Hmphh!!.

“Only five?” I tried bargaining, raising five fingers. 

Her glare made two fingers retreat instantly.

“Three?” 

More daggers. I gulped and folded the rest down.

“Aree… ek toh khane de!” I begged shamelessly. Honestly, my sweet tooth has always been the villain of my life. And Vidhi? The villain who is blocking my pleasurable reunion with my sweet dishes.

After a long pause, she finally sighed and nodded. I squealed in delight. The next moment, the menu flew open like divine scripture, its sweet-dish section shining down upon me.

Ahh! Rasmalai, Jalebi, Ice cream… all tempting, all calling my name. But if I picked Rasmalai, Jalebi would sulk. If I chose Jalebi, Ice cream would glare at me. Emotional turmoil over food — my eternal curse. At the end only one will get justice, then what about others?.

I peeked at Vidhi. She was watching me with arms folded, eyebrows raised, the warning clear in her expression: Don’t even try me. 

I gulped and quickly settled on Jalebi with Fafda — our classic Gujarati breakfast. Every weekend, Maa used to make it, but no matter how much I begged, I’d only get one piece. Actually, the thing is, I have a sweet tooth. Very bad one. From childhood, I consumed sweets more than water, resulting in—

Just then Vidhi’s voice snapped me out of my sugary nostalgia. “Food is here.”

Two waiters emerged from the kitchen-like space, carrying steaming plates. They arranged everything neatly, placing cutlery on the side. One reached for the serving spoon, but Vidhi stopped him. “Bhaiya, hum kar lenge.”

Of course. Her way of doing things. Which meant no actual serving into bowls. She’d go straight to the big dish. Her reasoning? Simple:

Less cutlery = less dishes for the workers to wash.
Eating directly from the big bowl saves “precious” gravy from being wasted.
Plus, according to her, we are helping the workers like this.

I sometimes pity myself for having such a unique best friend. Truly, in this 7.2 billion population, there’s no duplicate of Vidhi —thanks to her whole insane being.

True to form, she shoved the small bowls aside and dug in. I turned slightly, praying the waiter had left already. Thank God he had. Otherwise, we’d be financing his hospital fees after watching us eat like escaped wild animals.

Pakka soch rahe honge — kaise janwar chut ke aa gaye hai….but who cares? Food first, duniya baad mein!. 

AUTHOR'S POV

Every utensil on their table gleamed as though it had been scrubbed within an inch of its life—though in truth, it was the two besties who had done the scrubbing, with their mouths. They had pounced on the food like prisoners freed after years of starvation, leaving behind not even a rebellious grain of rice.

Since the dhaba was nearly empty, all eyes were naturally on them. A group of waiters stood huddled near the counter, watching in wide-eyed disbelief as the girls demolished dish after dish. One of them whispered something to another, who shook his head slowly, as though they’d just witnessed a live wildlife documentary.

Aashi raised her hand, signaling a waiter over. He swallowed, nodded quickly, and grabbed their bill from the reception. Sliding it into a black cover, he marched toward them—reinforcements in tow to clear the battlefield that was once a dinner table.

“Didi… khana kaisa tha?” the waiter ventured nervously, his smile wobbling like jelly.

“Bahut acha tha, bhaiya!” Vidhi beamed at him, flashing a grin full of satisfaction.

He nodded back, relieved, and gently placed the black bill folder on the cleared table.

“Didi… bill.” Both of them blinked at him, confused.

“Humne abhi kaha bill mangvaya apse?” Aashi arched a brow, glancing from the cover to the waiter.

“Haan… abhi toh hume aur bhi order karna hai,” she added. The poor man followed her gesture toward Vidhi—who was already buried in the menu again.

His face fell in horror.

“Ab tu kya dekh rahi hai usme?” Aashi muttered, shaking Vidhi’s arm and nodding toward the waiter’s stricken face.

Vidhi looked up, then at the waiter, and sighed sheepishly. Deciding to put their jaanwar-pana aside for the day, she set the menu down.

“Bhaiya, ek plate jalebi aur fafda le aaiye,” she said sweetly.

The waiter scribbled it down, carefully keeping his expression neutral, though his eyes betrayed dread, he looked at her to go on.

“Uske sath bill bhi le aaiyega,” Aashi added with a polite smile.

The moment he left, she turned to Vidhi. “Pagal hai kya tu?” she hissed.

“The food was really nice… I wanted to order more,” Vidhi pouted, leaning back in her chair, arms folded.

“Is there a black hole inside you?” Aashi teased, lips curling into a playful smirk.

“As if you don’t have one,” Vidhi shot back, rolling her eyes.

The waiter returned with the sweets and the bill. Aashi, however, was already lost—her eyes glued to the golden spirals of jalebi like it was the love of her life. Vidhi sighed, took the bill, and scanned through it.

“Bhaiya, scanner hoga?” she asked.

“Ji, didi. Abhi laata hoon.” He hurried off.

In the meantime, Vidhi glanced at Aashi and shook her head with a helpless smile. Her friend’s face had softened into pure bliss—eyes closed, lips parting as she savored the syrupy jalebi like it was nectar from heaven.

“Ye lijiye, didi,” the waiter’s voice pulled Vidhi back. He held out the scanner. She quickly scanned and confirmed the payment, showing him her phone screen. He grinned, relieved, and retreated.

“Jaldi khayegi ya yahi rukna hai?” Vidhi teased, stealing a piece of fafda.

“Hmph! Don’t you know, sweets should be eaten slowly to truly enjoy them?” Aashi lectured, proceeding to demonstrate with excruciatingly slow bites of jalebi.

Vidhi burst out laughing, chomping on fafda so it wouldn’t go to waste, as her best-friend was too busy savouring the love of her life–her sweets.

Once they finished, both wiped their hands neatly with tissues.

“Bill nahi aaya,” Aashi frowned, glancing toward the reception.

“Payment bhi ho gayi, mata… jab aap apni sweet ride pe thi,” Vidhi flicked her forehead with a grin.

They exchanged a smile, picked up their phones, and finally strolled out of the dhaba together.

Aashi deliberately veered toward the passenger side, talking to Vidhi as casually as she could. After stuffing herself at the dhaba, the only thing she wanted was sleep, not the steering wheel. The moment they reached the car, she darted forward, silently praying Vidhi wouldn’t notice.

But heaven had other plans.

As soon as she pulled the door open, her scream split the day.

Vidhi was already sprawled across the seat, smirking like a cat that had caught its prey.

Aashi shrieked again, stumbling back, then once more when she dared peek inside.

“Witch!!” she gasped, clutching her chest. She opened the door wider as if to drive the spirit out, then circled the car in defeat to the driver’s side.

Vidhi laughed until her shoulders shook, eyebrows arched in mock victory. “Aww, my Aashu thought she could fool me?” she teased, cupping Aashi’s cheeks until Aashi slapped her hands away and jammed the key into the ignition.

“Sach-much ki chudail hai tu,” Aashi muttered under her breath, only to earn another burst of laughter. 

Vidhi soon drifted into peaceful sleep, while Aashi fixed her gaze on the dark highway. Despite the heavy meal, sleep refused to come—her mind was restless.

What’s waiting ahead?

Good… or bad?

The thought pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, not too loud, not too soft, but steady and insistent—like a drum in the distance. Her fingers brushed against her ring again and again, the metal cold against her skin.

Beside her, Vidhi breathed evenly, blissfully unaware of the storm inside her best friend.

Hours later, the black Mercedes purred into the palm-lined driveway of La Vida Royale, Goa’s most expensive and glamorous hotel. The evening sun had just started melting into the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. A sea breeze carried the mingled scent of salt and jasmine, wrapping the evening in a deceptive calm.

The car curved into the underground parking, guided by a valet. The descent felt royal—soft amber lights washed over the walls, the air cool and faintly perfumed. Their Mercedes slid neatly into its private slot, surrounded by gleaming Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and Rolls Royce.

They were two hours late from their estimated time. Aashi nudged Vidhi lightly, while keeping her focus on parking the car in their designated place. Every guest of La Vida Royale was provided with their own personal parking lots

She stretched with a groan, blinking at the sight around her. “You should’ve woken me when we entered Goa…” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“You were sleeping like a log,” Aashi replied, killing the engine, though her eyes lingered on the mirror—on the endless row of cars gleaming under the spotless white lights. Their Mercedes slid into place, blending seamlessly with the elite collection.

A valet opened their doors with a polite smile. “Welcome to La Vida Royale, madam.” Their luggage was whisked into a trolley, and the girls were led to a private elevator that carried them smoothly into another world.

As the doors slid open, the scene shifted into pure magic–an enormous chandelier of blown glass resembling seashells, a girl in black mid length dress softly playing a giant white piano near the lounge, and the faint sound of waves crashing not too far beyond the glass walls that overlooked the private beach.

Heads turned them as they walked past in casual clothes–for someone staying in such an expensive place–drawing subtle frowns and raised brows.

“Reservation under Miss…?” The receptionist eyed them with polite disinterest.

Vidhi leaned forward with effortless confidence. “Under us. The Sea Breeze Suite.”

The woman froze, her eyes darting to the screen. Shock flickered over her features as the names lit up: Miss Vidhi Mehra and Miss Aashi Khanna. At once, her bored mask cracked into a nervous smile. Around them, whispers rose—curious glances shifting from their clothes to their faces. None of them thought that they were VIPs. By now they had become the centre of attention, long forgotten the soft music of piano, and the sound of waves crashing—as now all eyes were at them, who carried an aura of wealth and royalty but still perfectly blending into the world around them.

With bowed head, the receptionist handed them their key card. “Madams, have a wonderful stay.”

A butler in cream uniform guided them to their suite. The private corridor was hushed, lined with golden lamps and thick carpets that swallowed every sound. When the door unlocked with a soft beep, the world inside seemed to sigh open.

The Sea Breeze Suit instantly welcomed them with a calm, coastal charm. The space was wide—warm wooden flooring, cream-coloured walls, and subtle blue accents that echoed the sea outside. A large sliding glass door opened to a private balcony, where two lounge chairs faced the ocean. From there, the waves could be heard clearly, rolling and retreating like nature’s own music. The air smelled faintly of salt and jasmine.

Inside, the living area had a comfortable sofa, a coffee table with fresh tropical fruits. A woven rug with patterns added character to the room. The bedroom carried the same seaside vibe—a queen-sized bed with crisp white linen, soft pillows stacked high, and a carved wooden headboard. The lamps on each side gave off a mellow golden glow. A ceiling fan spun lazily above, matching the relaxed, ‘susegado’ mood of Goa.

Vidhi dropped onto the queen-sized bed with a laugh. “Forget the sea—I’m not moving from here. This bed is heaven.”

They burst into giggles, their laughter filling the suite like a seal against the world outside.

But Aashi drifted toward the balcony. She leaned on the railing, her hair stirring in the wind, her eyes locked on the horizon where the sun melted into the sea. Her thumb brushed over her ring, almost unconsciously.

“Whatever it is…” she whispered, voice steady despite the storm inside, “I’ll face it.”

The waves roared faintly in answer, as if mocking her resolve.

But little did she know, fate had already played its dice…..now it depends on her will she be able to face that…or?