Anjali? Different broadcast. Boys gave her a respectful buffer zone, like she carried her own caution tape. Loud in the best way. The mouth of a stand-up comic and the timing of a judge's gavel. If something bothered her, she wouldn't DM—she'd deliver. Right there. Middle of the crowd. Boom. Dignity? Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times.
The Ferrari ate up another mile. Wind in, city out, the road a glossy ribbon unspooling beneath them. Amaya tapped the steering with a grin that meant trouble; Anjali cranked the volume and threw her head back, laughing like the night had RSVP'd to them. For a moment, the world shrank to speed, music, and two girls who knew exactly how to take a turn without blinking
On the other hand, Anjali was stunning in her own right—just usually cast as "second" whenever Amaya entered the frame. It had been that way since childhood, and by now it didn't bother either of them; the scorecard had long been thrown out the window.
"Hey, babe," Anjali drawled, propping her elbow on the window as the city blurred by. "Heard Raj Khurana's been orbiting you lately."
Amaya's mouth tilted, a slow, amused curve. "He has," she said, tapping the wheel to the beat, "but plenty of people orbit. How many orbits am I supposed to track?"
"Sure," Anjali said, grin sharpening, "but Raj Khurana isn't exactly background noise. If he shows up tomorrow with a proposal, then what? Be practical—B.Tech's about done, and with the size of your dad's business, you're not exactly polishing a resume. You'll be running the empire." She ticked points off on her fingers. "No siblings, no split—no one to bargain for a slice. So what's the holdup on love? Unless…" She leaned in, stage-whisper, eyes dancing. "Don't tell me the interest in boys is… strictly theoretical?" She winked, shameless, then threw her head back and laughed.
Amaya side-eyed her, mock-offended, but the smile breaking at the edges gave her away. The wind cuffed their hair; the road unspoiled like a glossy ribbon. Somewhere between the tease and the throttle, the moment brightened—two girls, one joke too many, and a city that pretended not to listen.