Chapter 1
Ahana
A year has passed, but the pain of losing the one I loved most is still raw. Every morning feels like a struggle, but dwelling on the past won't help. I have a flight to catch in a few hours, so I need to get a move on.
Speaking of flights, who books an early morning flight? It makes me feel like a wide-awake owl, while everyone else assumes I'm a night owl because of my early replies. Little do they know I sleep in most mornings!
But hey, working for a fashion tycoon isn't an everyday opportunity. With no time to waste, I scrambled to pack my things in my tiny studio apartment, the house was eating me alive with the memories.
Finally! I got my favorite window seat! Pure bliss! Sometimes I wish I were a bird, soaring through the fluffy clouds. Lucky things! As the plane took off, revealing a panorama of adorable, puffy shapes, I knew sacrificing sleep was worth it. These clouds remind me of my first time seeing them up close, a truly mesmerizing experience.
Lost in the view, I drift off to sleep, only to be jolted awake by the tap on my shoulder. Damn! I even missed the landing! At least I slept like a baby for an hour.
Exiting the airport, I see my name displayed on a board. The driver whisks me away to a luxurious hotel – a five-star paradise. The money they earn is, I guess, beyond the zeros I can count. Anyway, it's not like math is my forte.
After freshening up, I ordered a delicious brunch. Gazing out the window, the busy street scene felt like a fast-forwarded video. Exhaustion, not jet lag (a two-hour flight wouldn't do that!), set in after my meal. Just being around people, or even the thought of them, drains my energy.
I woke up famished, and with no energy to venture out, I ordered dinner in my room. As I devour my delicious Rajma Chawal, I steal glances at the breathtaking night sky of Mumbai, its skyscrapers piercing the darkness. No wonder they say the city never sleeps. With a contented sigh, I drift off to sleep, the taste of blueberry ice cream lingering on my tongue.
The morning was a blur - wake up, get dressed, conquer the city streets. But all that forward motion screeched to a halt as I stood outside the CEO's office. His assistant, Mira, was out on an emergency, leaving me to face the big man himself.
Taking a deep breath, I gathered every ounce of courage and knocked. A deep, masculine voice boomed from within, "Come in."
Stepping inside, I found the voice belonged to a handsome man, sitting behind a Mahogany desk and focused on his phone.
"How may I help you?" he mumbled, eyes glued to his phone screen.
"Hello, sir," I began "I'm Ahana, the fashion designer for the new project."
A flicker of recognition crossed his face. "Ah, Mira mentioned you'd be arriving. Please, have a seat, Ahana." His eyes, however, remained fixed on the screen. "Thank you, sir," I replied
A chuckle escaped his lips. "Hold on, Ahana, ditch the 'sir.' I'm not your boss. Aryan's the name."
"Not your boss?" Confusion clouded my face.
"Right," he chuckled again, finally meeting my gaze. "I'm Aryan, his brother. I'll be holding down the fort for a few months while he opens a new branch in Paris. Heard anything about that?"
A weight lifted from my shoulders. "Of course!" I exclaimed. "Who hasn't heard of this huge Indian fashion brand taking Eastern Europe by storm?"
"Woah, slow down there, Ahana," he said with a playful smile. "Please, ditch the formalities. 'Sir' makes me feel ancient."
My cheeks flushed. "Right, okay," I stammered.
He sighed dramatically, pushing himself out of his chair, "Since Mira isn't here to show you around and introduce you, looks like I'm on temporary guide duty." The sigh, however, seemed more playful than burdened.
"Ok" I replied, stifling my smile
"And of course," Aryan drawled, a hint of mock seriousness in his voice, "the never-ending paperwork you get to grace with your signature." The playful jab softened the blow of the seemingly endless pile of documents.
He led me down the hall and into my cabin, then proceeded to introduce me to my new colleagues - the people I'd be collaborating with for the next few months.
Finally came the contract - three months of creative freedom! After what felt like an eternity of signatures, I emerged from the office just past lunch. Back at the hotel, I booked a cab, eager for a well-deserved rest. It was the weekend, and while a normal person might hit the club or explore the city, my introverted nature craved a different kind of recharge. Food, sleep, and repeat - a perfect weekend for a level-one social introvert like myself.
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