Saisha was genuinely happy. After weeks of texting, today she was finally going to see Aman, in person, up close, for the very first time. Her heart was fluttering, her thoughts racing, and one look at her closet had her sighing in confusion.
"I seriously don't know what to wear!" she groaned, flopping on the bed as she called out, "Sam! Yaar, help me out! I want to look so good today that Aman won't be able to take his eyes off me."
Sam, her best friend, looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow. "Saisha... calm down for a second. No matter how amazing you look, he's not going to look at you like that."
"What? Why?!"
"Because in his head, the girl he likes is the one online. And guess what — that's technically you. But since you're pretending to be her friend, not her, he has no idea."
Saisha blinked. "So?" She was confused; she totally forgot about her lie.
"So... he doesn't like you, Saisha. He likes the version of you he thinks is someone else."
There was a long pause.
"Oh. My. God." Saisha's jaw dropped. "Sam... I'm literally my own rival in love."
A tiny frown appeared on her face, lips parting in a mix of horror and realization. Sam couldn't help but laugh.
"Exactly. You're jealous of yourself. Welcome to the chaos."
Saisha sighed, the excitement dimming just a little. "This is so messed up."
"Don't stress too much, okay?" Sam said, sitting beside her. "Just go, enjoy the evening. And later... We'll tell him everything. Let the truth hit him when it's meant to."
Saisha nodded slowly. Deep inside, she knew — this story had only just begun.
Saisha's heart wasn't ready to overthink anymore, not after reality hit her like a cold splash of truth. Aman didn't like her. He liked the version of her that lived behind a screen, the online girl with no name, no face... just words.
With a dull ache in her chest and no desire to glam up, she reached for something simple, a white frock scattered with yellow sunflowers. It felt soft, almost childlike, and maybe that's what she needed, comfort. She slipped into soft yellow heels, tied her hair, and silently walked out with her family to attend the party.
The moment they reached, her eyes scanned for him.
And there he was.
Aman stood casually in a yellow sweatshirt and white cargos, his usual black-frame specs on, and that messy, untamed hair, the one thing that made her heart skip every single time. He looked good. Really good.
And just like she'd predicted — he didn't even notice her.
"Why would he?" she thought bitterly, forcing a smile while nodding to some distant relative. "There are so many guests here. Why would he look at me?"
But just a few minutes later, she felt a presence behind her, a familiar one. The scent of his perfume gently reached her nose before his voice did.
"Hello, video-editing girl," he said, his tone light, teasing.
That voice.
That fragrance.
The boy she had only known from a glowing screen was now standing right behind her. So real. So close.
"Hello," she said, turning around and meeting his eyes. "How are you?"
"Doing great. What about you? Oh — actually, I need your help."
She smiled softly. "Aman, I told you... I won't share any details about your secret girl, so please don't start again."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "No no, not about her! You're doing a video-editing course, right? I need help with something there."
"Ohh," she blinked, then laughed at her own assumption. "Sorry! Sure, what help do you need?"
"Come with me, I'll show you."
They walked together to his studio room. He opened a video on his system, his back to her, then casually said, "Why are you standing there? Come closer."
Her feet moved slowly, her breath catching as she stood beside him. Aman had no idea her heart was racing just by being near him.
"Sit here," he said, pulling a chair. "Please check what glitch is showing up. I can't figure it out. I'll go grab something to eat in the meantime."
She simply nodded, her voice locked somewhere deep in her throat, and focused on the screen, or at least pretended to.
After a few minutes, Aman returned, carrying a tray filled with delicious snacks. He placed it on the table, then bent slightly to adjust the tray...
And just like that, unintentionally, his chest brushed the top of Saisha's head.
Her breath hitched.
Her knees weakened.
And her heart threatened to explode.
"Any updates?" he asked casually, completely unaware of what just happened. "Did it get fixed?"
Aman didn't even look at her.
When Saisha quietly got up to leave the studio, he didn't stop her. Not even a glance. Just a flat, "Thank you" — eyes still on the screen.
No eye contact. No smile. Nothing.
The party eventually came to a close, and the laughter faded as guests began to leave. Saisha returned home with her family, exhausted not just in body but in heart.
She changed into her nightwear, washed her face, and curled up on her bed — her mind a chaotic blur of everything that had happened.
Aman hadn't noticed her. He hadn't felt anything.
All she could think was How do I fix this?The mess she had created...This entire lie, this web of pretending to be her own friend — it was now choking her.
She reached for her phone, which had been on Do Not Disturb the entire evening. Just for peace. Just for escape.
But the moment she unlocked it… her heart nearly dropped.
20 missed calls.50 unread messages.All from Aman.
Her eyes widened. Fingers trembling, she opened the messages — each pinging louder in her chest than the next.
She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the screen. Fifty unread messages. Each one was from him.
She read them all.
Every single word felt like a tight hug wrapped in panic. His words weren't just texts — they were worry, care, the kind that said "you matter."
A smile bloomed on her lips. For the first time, she didn't feel invisible. She felt… important.
Without overthinking, she hit the call button.
One ring. That's all it took.
He picked up immediately."Aman—" she barely got a word out when—
"Where were you?""I was so tense.""You left just like that—why?""Did I do something? Please tell me I didn't—"
His voice was rushed, filled with a cocktail of relief, worry, and frustration.
She let out a soft laugh."I'm okay, Aman. You didn't do anything wrong," she said, gently. "It was just… a family night, so I kept my phone a little away. That's all."
There was a moment of silence, then Aman's voice, softer this time, but laced with something deeper, something that made her heart clench:
"Why? Am I not your family too?"
She froze.
Her breath caught.
What was she supposed to say?
One part of her wanted to scream Yes, Aman. You're mine. I love you. But the other part — the one haunted by guilt, by lies, by the version of herself she hid — held her tongue.
She closed her eyes. And with a shaky voice, she whispered,"You're more than my family, Aman."
He chuckled lightly. "Good… I thought you were gonna straight up deny me. Right to my face. Would've been epic humiliation."
But before he could say more, Saisha interrupted — her voice soft but certain.
"You're my home, Aman."
And on the other end, everything fell silent.
He froze.
Not because he didn't know what to say. But because in that one line, she'd said everything.