The inside of Brew & Bliss smelled like overpriced coffee and Instagram dreams. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over wooden tables packed with laptops, pastel cups, and chattering college kids. Arjun's palms were sweaty as he followed Kiara to a corner table, her arm still casually looped through his. He felt like a side character in a rom-com, except the script was missing and he was already forgetting his lines.
"Chill, Arjun," Kiara whispered, her voice teasing as she slid into a chair. "You're acting like we're robbing a bank, not having coffee."
"I'm chill," he lied, adjusting his glasses for the fifth time. His eyes darted around, searching for Riya. Was she even here? What if this whole ₹2,000 plan was a waste? He glanced at Kiara, who was scanning the menu with the ease of someone who belonged in places like this. Her blue kurti hugged her shoulders just right, and when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, Arjun's brain glitched again.
"Okay, game plan," Kiara said, leaning forward. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "We need to look like a couple, but not like we're trying too hard. Laugh at my jokes, maybe touch my hand once—don't overdo it. And if your ex shows up, follow my lead. Deal?"
"Deal," Arjun said, though his voice sounded like it was auditioning for a nervous squirrel. He wasn't sure how to "look like a couple." Did couples stare at each other like idiots? Or was he supposed to, like, feed her a macaron?
Before he could spiral further, Kiara leaned closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. "By the way, you're doing great at the awkward-cute thing. It's kind of adorable."
Arjun's face burned. "I-I'm not trying to be adorable!"
She grinned, resting her chin on her hand. "Sure you're not. Now, order something before the waiter thinks we're here for the free Wi-Fi."
He fumbled with the menu, picking a cold coffee because it seemed safe. Kiara ordered a caramel latte and a plate of cheesy fries to share—"because couples share food," she said with a wink that made his heart do a weird flip. As they waited, she started asking him questions, like this was a real date: favorite movie (*Interstellar*, obviously), dream job (something in AI, maybe), and whether he'd ever tried dancing at a college fest (definitely not).
"You're telling me you've never done the garba at Navratri?" Kiara gasped, mock-horrified. "Arjun, you're in Mumbai! You've got to sway to at least one 'Falguni Pathak' song before you graduate."
"I'd trip over my own feet," he muttered, but her laugh was so warm it made him smile despite himself. For a moment, he forgot about Riya, the café, the whole fake-date thing. Talking to Kiara felt… easy. Like she could tease him into being someone braver.
Then, the café door jingled, and Arjun's stomach dropped. Riya walked in, her hair tied in a high ponytail, laughing with a tall guy in a leather jacket. *Mr. Exciting*, Arjun thought bitterly. They grabbed a table near the window, close enough for Arjun to hear Riya's giggle—a sound that used to make him happy but now felt like a jab to the chest.
Kiara followed his gaze, her expression shifting to something sharper, like a chess player spotting a checkmate. "That's her, isn't it?" she whispered. "Showtime."
Before Arjun could panic, Kiara reached across the table, her fingers brushing his. The touch was light, deliberate, but it sent a jolt through him. "Laugh," she said under her breath. "Like I said something hilarious."
Arjun forced a chuckle, sounding more like a dying engine. Kiara rolled her eyes but leaned closer, her voice loud enough to carry. "Oh my God, Arjun, you did *not* just say that! You're too much!" She tossed her head back, laughing like he was the funniest guy in Mumbai. Heads turned, including Riya's.
Arjun's heart pounded. Riya was looking at them—*at him*—her eyes narrowing as she took in Kiara's radiant smile and the way her hand lingered on his. Kiara didn't miss a beat. She picked up a fry, dipped it in cheese, and held it out to Arjun. "Try this, you'll love it," she said, her voice sweet but loud, like she wanted the whole café to hear.
He took the fry, his fingers brushing hers again, and shoved it in his mouth before he could overthink it. "It's… good," he mumbled, cheeks burning.
"Good? It's life-changing," Kiara teased, leaning so close he could smell her perfume—something floral and dizzying. She glanced sideways, confirming Riya was still watching, then whispered, "She's hooked. Keep up."
For the next ten minutes, Kiara was a masterclass in fake dating. She told a loud, animated story about a "crazy date" they'd supposedly had at Juhu Beach, complete with details about him "heroically" saving her ice cream from a seagull. Arjun nodded along, trying not to laugh for real. She was good—too good. Every time she touched his arm or tossed her hair, he forgot this was a performance.
But then, something shifted. Riya stood up, tugging Leather Jacket Guy toward their table. Arjun's stomach twisted. "She's coming over," he hissed.
Kiara's eyes gleamed. "Perfect. Follow my lead."
"Arjun?" Riya's voice was sharp, like she'd caught him stealing samosas from the canteen. She stood by their table, arms crossed, her boyfriend looming behind her. "Didn't expect to see you here… with someone."
Kiara didn't miss a beat. She slid closer to Arjun, her shoulder brushing his, and flashed a megawatt smile. "Oh, hi! I'm Kiara, Arjun's… well, you know." She let the word hang, vague but suggestive, then turned to Arjun with a look so affectionate it almost fooled *him*. "Babe, you didn't tell me your friends would be here!"
Babe. The word hit Arjun like a Mumbai local train. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Riya's eyes widened, darting between them. "You're… together?" she asked, her voice tight.
"Recently," Kiara said smoothly, resting her hand on Arjun's. "He's been keeping me busy with his cute little quirks. Like, did you know he explains physics when he's nervous? Adorable, right?"
Riya's smile was brittle. "Yeah, adorable." She glanced at Leather Jacket Guy, who looked bored, then back at Arjun. "Well, good for you. See you around."
As Riya walked away, her ponytail swishing like an angry cat's tail, Arjun let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Kiara squeezed his hand once, then let go, leaning back with a satisfied grin. "Nailed it," she whispered. "She's jealous. You're welcome."
Arjun's heart was still racing, not just from Riya's reaction but from the way Kiara's hand had felt in his. "That was… insane," he said, voice low. "You're like a professional liar."
"Performer," she corrected, popping a fry in her mouth. "And you're not bad for a first-timer. But next time, maybe don't look like you're about to faint."
"Next time?" he squeaked. The idea of doing this again—spending more time with Kiara, fake or not—made his head spin.
Kiara tilted her head, studying him. "You booked me for two hours, right? We've got 45 minutes left. Want to keep practicing? Or are you ready to call it a day?"
Arjun glanced at Riya, now sulking by the window, then back at Kiara, whose smile was equal parts challenge and charm. He didn't know what he was doing, but for the first time since the breakup, he felt alive.
"Let's keep going," he said, surprising himself.
Kiara's grin widened. "That's the spirit. Rule three of fake dating: have fun. Ready for round two?"
As she leaned forward, her eyes locking with his, Arjun wondered if ₹2,000 was about to buy him more trouble than he'd bargained for.