Ruhi stormed out of my apartment, crying. Mannat tried to stop her,

"Ruhi, sun toh!" (Ruhi, please listen!) but she didn't stop.

Mannat turned to me instead,

"Tu theek hai? Dikha zara." (Are you okay? Let me see.) she said, cupping my face to examine the slap Ruhi had given me.

"Bohot zor se marti hai yaar yeh sukhi lakdi." (She hits really hard yaar, this dry stick,) I said with an awkward laugh.

"Idhar aa," she said, pulling me toward the fridge. (Come here.)

She took out an ice cube.

"Yeh laga, araam milega." (Apply this, it'll soothe the pain.)

"It's too cold, leave it... I'll just wash my face, that's better," I replied, walking to the sink.

Facing the sink, I muttered,

"Chudail... tu Ruhi ke paas ja, usko zarurat hogi teri... main theek hoon."

("Witch... go to Ruhi, she might need you right now. I'm fine.")

"Idhar muh karna."Turn your face here,"she instructed.

I splashed water on my face.

I splashed water on my face.

"Haan ji jaan, main theek hoon."

(Yes darling, I'm fine.)

"Rona hai tujhe?" (Do you feel like crying?)

"Nahi toh." (Nope.)

"Phir chup kyun hai, aurat? Bol kuch."

(Then why are you quiet, woman? Say something.)

"Abey ja na tu... mujhe bohot kaam hai, itne saare assignments bhi hain... nikal tu." pushing her towards the door.

(Oh just go... I've got a lot of work, so many assignments too... get out.)

"Ruhi ke paas ja sidha... kuch ho toh call karna," I added, then closed the door on her face.

(Go straight to Ruhi... call me if anything happens.)

---

After she left, I slid down in front of the door, landing on my bumb with a Thud sound bringing my knees together hugging my knees and burying my face in them.

I stayed there, numb, for a while.

Then, I raised my head, combed my hair in frustration.

"Pull yourself together, Alia," I said to myself, slapping my cheeks.

"...Bohot kaam hai tujhe, aise baithne se kuch nahi hoga. Mood sahi kar apna... Ruhi ka toh tujhe bhi pata hai, woh gusse mein kya bolti hai, usko khud nahi pata hota."

(Translation: "You have a lot to do, nothing will come out of sitting like this. Get your mood together... As for Ruhi, you know, when she's angry, she says things she doesn't even mean.")

I said and stood up.

I grabbed my headphones, connected them to my phone, and opened Spotify.

I searched for my personalized playlist of item songs and played it.

......

I started cleaning my bedroom, changed my white bedsheets and pillow covers, and threw them in the washing machine to clean.

I was grooving to the item songs, swaying my waist and hips left and right.

Until I went near the basin and saw my reflection in the mirror.

That's when I lost it.

My tears started falling as I looked at myself.

Then, I stood there, staring at my reflection, unable to move.

My heart felt heavy, and I couldn't stop the tears.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, trying to compose myself, but it was no use.

"Why am I like this?" I whispered to myself, my voice breaking.

"Yeh sab kuch kahan se agaya?"

(Translation: "Where did all this come from?")

I let out a shaky breath, trying to control my emotions.

I turned away from the mirror, feeling the weight of everything hit me all at once.

"I don't want my past to repeat again... not this time. I can't handle it this time," I thought, tears falling, drop by drop.

"Mere se nahi hoga ab... I can't lose this time," I whispered, breaking down.

(Translation: "I can't do this anymore... I can't afford to lose this time.")

I cried for a while, then slowly walked toward the shower.

Without even changing my clothes, I turned the water on and sat underneath it.

I kept crying as the cold water poured over me, my thoughts drowning in the flood of flashbacks that kept hitting me one after another.

(Flashback start)

"Hey Alia," she said, hugging me as she stepped into my home.

"Aaja, let's go inside," I smiled, leading her in.

(Come in, let's go inside)

Mom brought us some snacks and then left us alone.

We were chatting when she suddenly grabbed my phone.

"Wapas kar phone, Suhana," I said, reaching for it.

(Give the phone back, Suhana)

"Dekhne toh de bhai, itna kya private hai phone mein?" she teased.

(Come on, let me see, what's so private in your phone?)

"Aisa kuch nahi hai, bas mujhe pasand nahi ki koi mera phone use kare," I replied.

(Nothing like that, I just don't like anyone using my phone)

"I'm your best friend yaar," she said, trying to emotionally blackmail me with her pout.

(Come on, I'm your best friend)

I sighed in defeat.

"Yeh le phir," I said, handing her the phone.

(Here, take it then)

She instantly opened my Instagram.

"Yaar kitni boring hai tu, kisi se dhang se baat hi nahi karti!"

(God, you're so boring, you don't even talk properly to anyone!)

"I don't know them, why should I?" I shrugged.

"Still yaar... thoda toh socialize kar," she rolled her eyes.

(Still, at least socialize a little)

---

We were chatting, both sliding through our phones lazily.

"Oi tu ruk, main aati hoon washroom se," I said, getting up.

(Hey wait, I'll be back from the washroom)

When I came back, Mom called me into the kitchen to knead the dough. I was busy making the atta when my phone buzzed with a notification.

"Alia, notification aaya hai," she called out.

(Alia, you got a notification)

"Dekh le kya aaya hai, aur yahan aa ja," I replied from the next room.

(Check what it is and come here)

She walked over and glanced at the screen. "Yeh toh Kaustubh ka text hai," she said.

(This is a text from Kaustubh)

"Tera wala?" I asked, raising a brow.

(Your guy?)

She nodded.

"Delete kar de request," I said casually.

(Delete the request)

"Arey kyun? Woh mera boyfriend hai iska matlab yeh thodi na ki woh tera classmate nahi bhi nahi hein? Tu baat kar sakti hai usse, I don't mind," she said.

(Why? Just because he's my boyfriend doesn't mean he wasn't your classmate. You can talk to him, I don't mind)

"I just don't want to privately socialize with them. He was my classmate in school, not beyond that," I replied, firm.

"Tu aur teri boundaries! Tabhi toh teri koi dost nahi hai mere alawa," she teased.

(You and your boundaries! That's why you don't have any friends except me)

"That's true... but I don't even want anyone else if you're with me," I smiled softly.

She chuckled and gave me a side hug, her expression warm.

---

After I was done kneading the dough, I washed my hands and went back to her.

"Yaar main bore ho rahi hoon," she said, flopping on the sofa.

(I'm getting bored)

"Game khelna hai?" I asked.

(Want to play a game?)

"Nahi... tu hi khel ladkon ki tarah games and all," she rolled her eyes.

(No... you're the one who plays boyish games and all)

"Toh kya gossips aur makeup-makeup khelu?" I smirked.

(So should I play gossip and makeup stuff then?)

"Not a bad idea!" she suddenly lit up.

"I'm not gonna be the victim. I'm already on my periods," I warned.

"Uff, tu bhi na," she sighed dramatically.

(Ugh, you're too much sometimes)

"Ruk, Kaustubh ko text karti hoon tere account se," she said, already reaching for my phone.

(Wait, I'll text Kaustubh from your account)

"Please don't," I stopped her.

"Arey chill! Kuch ulta-seedha ho gaya toh main bata dungi ki it was me Alia ban ke Alia ke account se text kiya tha," she said mischievously.

(Chill! If something goes wrong, I'll say it was me pretending to be Alia from her account)

"Mat kar, I really don't want this," I said firmly.

(Don't do it)

"Pleaseee," she gave me that puppy face.

And just like that, I gave up again.

She opened Kaustubh's profile. He had sent a message saying: "Hey, it's been a while. Hope you're doing good."

She turned to me with a mischievous grin.

"Ae, yeh toh legit sweet hai," she said.

(Hey, this is actually sweet)

"He's your boyfriend, Suhana. And I don't care if it's sweet or bitter. Mujhe koi interest nahi hai," I replied.

(I'm not interested)

"Acha baba, samajh gayi. But can I reply just once? Kuch aisa jisse teri ego hurt na ho?"

(Okay okay, got it. But can I reply just once? Something that won't hurt your ego?)

"Not funny. Don't reply," I said sternly.

She sighed but nodded.

"Theek hai, tere liye. Waise tu lucky hai ki main teri dost hoon."

(Fine, for you. By the way, you're lucky I'm your friend)

"Main toh har roz thanks karti hoon universe ko," I replied sarcastically.

(I thank the universe every day)

"Ye sarcasm mujhe maar daalega ek din," she smirked.

(This sarcasm will kill me someday)

At one point, she looked at me and said, "Tu kabhi change nahi hogi na?"

(You'll never change, will you?)

"Mujhe zarurat hi kya hai?" I smiled.

(Why should I?)

"Bas, isi liye tu special hai," she said softly.

(Exactly. That's why you're special)

And for a moment, the room fell silent not awkward, but warm.

.......

We were having lunch when she suddenly said,

"Alia, tere paas meri tarah same red dress hai na?"

(Alia, you have the same red dress as mine, right?)

"Haan, toh?" I asked, already suspicious.

(Yeah, so?)

"Go and wear na! Let's do twinning and post photos!" she said excitedly.

"Can't I just click in these clothes?" I asked, gesturing at my comfy homewear.

"Naa... a big NO!" she said, crossing her arms like a stubborn boss.

I gave up again and changed into that red dress, just like she wanted.

We clicked photos some goofy poses, some serious ones, and even those fake candid shots that never really look candid.

.......

By the time we were done, it was already evening.

She had to leave.

That's how the day went loud, chaotic, a little annoying, but somehow... comforting.

After she left, I finally checked my phone, curious about what she might've talked about with Kaustubh, pretending to be me.

But the chat was gone.

Deleted.

And he was blocked.

I stared at the screen, confused.

No idea what happened.

No explanation.

Just silence.

A weird feeling crept in.

Was it something he said?

Something she did?

And more importantly... why did she hide it?

..........

FLASHBACK (END)

I let out a faint laugh...

"Why do my emotions always overpower me? Why does my submissive nature let them own me every time?"

I tried to stand up, but stumbled.

My legs had gone numb from sitting in the same position for too long.

I shook my head quickly from side to side, then forced myself up.

I went to freshen up, made wudu, wore a white dress, took my prayer mat, and draped a dupatta over my head.

After Maghrib namaz, I broke down in sajda crying loudly, no more holding back.

Or maybe... I simply couldn't anymore.

"Ya Allah... main hi kyun?" I whispered through my tears.

"Har cheez mein toh lucky rahi hoon Alhamdulillah. But when it comes to friendship... why am I always the one left behind? Why do I always fall short?"

"Itne saalon ka dard kya kaafi nahi tha? Heal hone mein zindagi nikal gayi... 24 ki ho gayi hoon, phir bhi andar se tooti hoon."

"Still unhealed... still unable to express. Abhi bhi lafz nahi milte... aur sabse zyada darr lagta hai khud ki nazar na lag jaye...."

"Aur kitni baar bikharun main? Har baar jodti hoon khud ko, kisi naye jazbe se... kisi nayi umeed se... par har baar wahi akelapan, wahi khamoshi. Wohi aake khadi ho jati hu mein jaha se shuru krti hu"

"Log kehte hain time heals... toh phir mera waqt kab aayega? Kab milega mujhe bhi woh yaar jahan main bhi matter karun? Mujhe khone ke liye koi dare mein kiu har baar unko khone se daru?"

"Main bhi chahti hoon kisi ka pehla khayal banna. Kisi ki first priority hona, bas ek baar."

"Main bhi deserve karti hoon kisi ki genuine mohabbat, bina expectations ke, bina comparisons ke."

"Par har baar... main hi sabse aakhri mein kyun khadi hoti hoon?".

"Har baar main hi kyun chhup jaati hoon, chup ho jaati hoon? Kya meri khushi sirf dusron ke liye hai, Ya Allah?"

Tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking the prayer mat beneath me.

"Kab tak main apne dil ko samjhaati rahun? Kab tak main khud se ladti rahun? Thak gayi hoon, Ya khuda... thak gayi hoon har roz ek jhooti muskurahat pehente hue. Har raat dar ke sona ki mere se koi galti na ho jaye mein... it's exhausting.

I placed my hands over my face, muffling my sobs.

"Mein kya bol rhi Hu mujhe khud nhi pata...par tujhe sab pta h mere haal....tere hawale kr dia h puri zindagi"

"ya allah tere....aage he sirf haath uthati hu mein tere aage he mangti hu sab....tu itna nhi kr skta mere liye?"

"Ya allahh iss baar nhi please....." Sobs...sobs...sobss...

"Iss bar nhi allah nhi jhel paungi another breakdown dosti ka nhi h himmat...mangna bhi nhi himmat or"

And just like that... with tear-soaked cheeks and a heart too tired to fight anymore, I curled up on the musalla and drifted into sleep on the cold, hard floor, where my soul had finally let go for a while.

A strange kind of peace lingered in the air broken, aching peace.

But peace, nonetheless.

.......

IN ENGLISH:

"Ya Allah... why me?" I whispered through my tears.

"In everything else, I've been lucky-Alhamdulillah. But when it comes to friendship... why am I always the one left behind? Why do I always fall short?"

"Wasn't the pain of all these years enough? I've spent a lifetime trying to heal... I'm 24 now, and still I feel broken inside. Still unhealed... still unable to express. Even now, words slip away from me. And more than anything... I'm scared that maybe it's my own gaze that's cursed me."

"How many times do I have to fall apart? Every time I gather myself again-with a new emotion, a fresh hope-and every time, I end up back in the same loneliness, the same silence. I end up right where I started... like pain is chasing me in circles."

"People say time heals... then when will my time come, Ya Rab? When will I have that one friend who makes me feel like I matter too? Why am I the one who's always afraid of losing them... while they're never afraid of losing me?"

"I want to be someone's first thought too. Just once, I want to be someone's first priority. Is that too much to ask? I deserve genuine love too... without expectations, without comparisons."

"But every time... I'm the one standing last. Every time... I'm the one who hides, who falls silent. Is my happiness only meant for others, Ya Allah?"

Tears spilled down my cheeks, soaking the prayer mat beneath me-warm, quiet, and heavy with years of unsaid things.

"How long do I keep convincing my heart? How long do I keep fighting myself? I'm tired, Ya Khuda... tired of wearing a fake smile every day. Tired of sleeping every night with fear in my chest-that maybe I'll make another mistake... that maybe I'm the problem. It's exhausting."

I covered my face with my hands, trying to silence the sobs that tore through me.

"I don't even know what I'm saying anymore... but You know everything, don't You? Even what I can't put into words. I've given You everything... my entire life is Yours now."

"Ya Allah... I raise my hands only to You. I beg only in front of You. Isn't that enough for You to ease this pain?"

"Ya Allah, not this time... please..."

My voice broke into pieces.

"Not this time... Allah, I won't survive another breakdown. Not when it comes to friendship again. I don't have the strength to bear it anymore... I don't even have the strength to ask anymore."

..........

After the first meeting, I went downstairs to make a call.

On my way back, I noticed some papers scattered near the meeting room like someone had accidentally dropped their work.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I picked them up.

The designs caught my eye immediately beautiful, almost ocean-themed, but oddly, I didn't remember seeing them on display today.

"I don't understand why no one has presented these work today that's perfectly aligned and flawless for the theme."

Then I spotted the watermark

-Mannat Oberoi.

And that signature... I recognized it instantly.

It was hers.

I had seen it earlier during the presentation, woven into her work.

a signature that looked like a butterfly.

Elegant.

Artistic.

Just like her designs.

I couldn't help but wonder why she didn't show those designs.

Why would she choose to present something else instead?

And then it clicked it must've been Miss Gupta who suggested she show those illustration instead.

Frowning, I walked over to a group of employees chatting near the coffee machine.

"Excuse me," I interrupted politely.

"Could you tell me where Mannat Oberoi's desk is?"

A girl with a clipboard smiled.

"Down the second row, last one by the window."

I nodded and made my way there.

When I reached her desk, I realized she wasn't around.

But the moment I looked at her workspace, a small smile tugged at my lips.

Everything was so perfectly arranged soft shades of purple and white, little trinkets and stationery all carefully placed.

Even her space carried that butterfly theme... delicate, vibrant, full of personality.

"She even designs her desk like she designs her work," I murmured to myself, amused.

On her desk, two photo frames caught my attention.

One had a picture of three girls laughing wildly, with the heading scribbled above it

- The Chudails.

I chuckled under my breath.

"Fierce name for such innocent faces," I muttered.

The second frame was a family portrait. Her smile stood out pure, bright, and somehow... fragile.

In both pictures, she looked exactly like her work felt like a butterfly.

"Found something interesting?" a voice broke my thoughts.

I turned around to find the girl from earlier the one with the clipboard standing behind me.

"She's got a good eye... even for the small things." I said honestly, glancing back at the desk.

The girl smiled knowingly.

"That's Mannat. She's a bit of a dreamer. But... not everyone here sees that."

I nodded thoughtfully, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness rising inside me.

Not everyone needs to see it, I thought to myself.

I did.

"what's your name?" I asked.

"Saisha Blake" she replied.

I nodded.

After lingering for a moment, I reluctantly tore my eyes away from her desk and the designs that had drawn me in.

I had to leave, but I couldn't just leave them there.

I walked over to one of the employees, still lingering nearby.

"Could you please let Mannat know I've returned her work?" I asked.

She nodded. "Sure Sir."

With that, I tucked the papers carefully under a file on the desk and turned to leave her desk.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd learned something about her today something deeper than I expected.

--

I made my way upstairs and spotted a small café. The idea of a coffee break seemed perfect, so I walked in and ordered an espresso for myself.

But as I turned around, there she was.

Mannat.

Sitting at a corner table, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate, her smile lighting up the space.

A chocolate pastry sat beside her, untouched for now.

She was on a call, laughing lightly, her whole demeanor radiating that sunshine vibe I had first noticed at the Airport.

She was happy, genuinely engaged in the conversation, and it hit me harder than I expected.

There was something about seeing her so carefree, so... unbothered by the world.

It made my chest tighten a little, a strange ache I couldn't quite place.

Maybe it was the overdose of caffeine kicking in, or maybe it was something about her that had me feeling this way.

Either way, I couldn't look away.

-

I made my way to the counter to pay, ready to get out of there. But when I tried to swipe my card, the machine decided to malfunction.

The online payments were down too.

I paused.

"Great," I muttered under my breath.

I reached into my pockets.

Nothing.

I'd left my wallet in my desk.

I cursed softly under my breath.

Now what? I had no cash on me, and the worst part was... I'd already tasted the coffee.

There was no way I was walking out of here without paying for it.

I looked around the café helplessly, and my mind raced.

Okay, think, Kabir... think.

I stood there, still struggling with the situation, when out of nowhere, she walked up to the counter and paid for my coffee again.

The café owner handed her the change, and I just stood there, dumbfounded.

"Thank You.... but..." I started, trying to catch up with her, but she was already paying.

I quickly asked her, "Could you give me the cash? I'll pay you back online."

She glanced at me, hesitation flickering in her eyes, but then nodded, accepting without a word.

The transaction was smooth, but the moment felt... awkward.

And before I could say anything else, she turned and left like a storm, leaving me standing there, almost breathless.

She didn't even give me a chance to speak.

But the worst part?

The look she gave me as she left. It was like... like I'd done something wrong to her.

And for some reason, it made me feel like I was the villain here.

I shook my head, trying to brush it off.

No big deal.

I'm always the villain anyway... It didn't matter.

Work had to come first.

With a deep sigh, I made my way back to my room, focusing on the files waiting for me.

I signed the papers, sorted through everything for the next fashion week session, trying to push the nagging feeling to the back of my mind.

---

The workday had ended, and the office was empty.

Everyone else had already left, but I was still sitting at my desk, buried under piles of paperwork,pushing through to wrap up the day.

Once I finally finished, I stretched my arms, letting out a tired sigh. As I removed my spectacles, rubbing my eyes, something on my desk caught my attention.

The cash.

The same cash she had given me earlier, sitting there, untouched.

I stared at it for a moment, unsure what to make of it, as I reached out and picked it up.

I stared at the note in my hand, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

It was a simple note, but it carried something... unexpected.

On it was a quote, neatly written:

"Don't forget your debt to me... Mr. Coffee" and doodled a small drawing of eyes with a coffee cup.

- M.O."

I couldn't help but chuckle softly to myself.

DESTINY?

I glanced at the note again, as if it had just spoken to me.

Maybe it was just a quirky coincidence... or maybe, there was something deeper to it.

The words of that day echoed in my mind,

"One day this cash will return to you, and that day, think it was our destiny to meet."

I couldn't stop replaying them over and over again. It was like a little puzzle piece had clicked into place in my brain, and the more I thought about it, the more it didn't feel like just a coincidence.

Her voice, her words, fate.

My mind buzzed, her words repeating themselves, and for the first time today, I felt that strange pull.

Something was stirring inside me, something I couldn't quite explain.

I shook my head, trying to snap myself back to reality.

Focus, Kabir.

I folded the note carefully, the words still lingering in my mind, and tucked it inside my wallet, trying to push the whole strange moment aside.

It didn't make sense to get lost in thoughts about fate and destiny, not now, not when there was work to be done.

But as I closed the wallet, I couldn't help but feel a tiny spark of curiosity. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't the end of it.

----

A few days had passed, and everything had been non-stop approvals, designs, deadlines... I barely had time to breathe.

Today, I was on my way to a meeting to inquire about the process. The usual hustle, the usual chaos.

But as I walked through the corridors, my mind kept drifting back to that note, to her words.

I tried to push it aside, focusing on the task ahead, but something about it was still there, lingering in the back of my mind.

Today, I saw her again.

But this time, something was different.

Her face looked dull, tired, like she hadn't slept properly. There was a kind of unrest in her eyes, as if she was carrying some invisible weight.

Am I giving her too much work pressure, Kabir?

My self-conscious mocked me, a sharp reminder of the things I might not be seeing.

I pushed the thought aside quickly.

I don't think so.

But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe there was something more to it something I wasn't aware of.

The meeting continued, but my attention drifted. The dresses Ms. Gupta showed today didn't align with the aesthetics of the illusion I had approved earlier.

I glanced over at Mannat, only to find her zoned out, her eyes distant.

She didn't seem to care about what was happening in the room.

Her attention was fixed on her phone, glancing at it every minute, as if she was waiting for something or someone.

Is she waiting for her boyfriend to text?

I shook the thought away.

No... no... I'm sure she's single.

But then, my subconscious poked at me, Who knows if she's single or not?

I felt the sudden urge to ask her...

What's going on?

But I quickly dismissed the idea. I had no right to interfere in her personal life.

As the meeting went on, I kept stealing glances at her, wondering what was going on behind those tired eyes.

Was she okay?

Was something bothering her?

I tried to focus back on the discussion, but the image of her distracted state kept pulling me in.

She seemed so detached, like the whole thing wasn't even real to her. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

But I kept my mouth shut. It wasn't my place to ask. I barely knew her, and besides, I had no idea what was going on in her life.

Maybe she was dealing with something personal.

But why is it bothering me so much?

I questioned myself again.

I dismissed the meeting with a frustrated sigh, muttering under my breath.

"What the hell are they showing?"

..........

Reb: Finally apna 3rd hero ka entry ho shuka h.... I don't know kya he likha h.

MANNAT KA KABIR ON THE FLOOR.

Toh make sure batana mujhe kya hua h kaha galti kia h.... Kaha kch express krne ki need h

Honest reviews dena yrr konsa mein tumhe kha jaungi 🫩

OR ANY GUESS WHY MANNAT IS DISTRICTED? woh zone out kiu h? Uska koi chakkr chal rha h kya? Jo meine suspense rakha ho? Btao btao kya chal rha h dimaag pe tumlogo ka bhi🤭🤭....

........

REB:

KAISA THA CH LET ME KNOW😭😭

EK SUGGESTION BHI DO SHOULD I WRITE MORE ABOUT THE FLASHBACKS OF ALIA'S PAST YA BASS ENOUGH ITNA🤣.

Let me know ur favourite part from this ch today 💗

Tata see u next time😺 bt kab mujhe bhi nhi pta 🤣😂

Hectic schedule and poor health 🥲