Rahul had to put in a ridiculous amount of effort before he could finally force Kabir to hang up the video call.
Kabir, who had been single and grinding away in the corporate rat race for years, went absolutely manic after seeing the highlight reel Rahul had showed him! It took ten minutes of solid persuasion and promising to share his "secrets" before Rahul could finally end the call.
But as he tossed his phone onto the mattress, Rahul suddenly realized something—he hadn't received a single new message from Samina all evening.
He opened WhatsApp and switched over to Instagram.
Aside from the initial flurry of messages he received right after giving her his handles the day before, Samina had been completely radio silent.
Rahul didn't think too much of it; she was probably busy with her billionaire heiress duties. He still had to go out and 'hunt' for Charm Points on the streets tomorrow anyway.
After plugging in his phone, DJI camera, and power bank, Rahul's head hit the pillow and he was asleep in seconds.
What he didn't know was that at that exact moment, across the city in a massively opulent, aesthetically decorated bedroom, Samina was sitting cross-legged on her plush mattress, staring blankly at her iPhone screen.
Open on the screen was her Instagram DM chat with Rahul.
It was completely packed with the frantic messages she had sent him yesterday morning. And Rahul hadn't replied to a single one since they spoke on the phone.
Samina was currently trapped in an agonizing spiral of extreme internal conflict.
Should I send a message to ask if he's had dinner? No, Rahul explicitly told me he'd reply when he had free time. Maybe he's editing his vlog right now? But that makes no sense. It's already late at night; he should be relaxing at his hotel. Why hasn't he replied? Did I send way too many messages yesterday? Did I come off as a crazy stalker and make him hate me?! Thinking of this, Samina felt a sharp, heavy tightness in her chest.
No! I absolutely cannot let Rahul hate me! I really, really like him! If Rahul actually hated her, she'd want him to say it straight to her face so she could figure out exactly how to change!
Should I just drive over to his hotel right now to check on him? The second that thought popped into her head, Samina's face instantly flushed a brilliant shade of crimson.
Is doing that too aggressive? She had lived for twenty-two years and had never even been alone in a room with a boy, let alone chased one to his hotel at midnight!
But... this was Rahul!
Everything about his personality, his flawless looks, and his laid-back confidence perfectly matched her ideal type. He was so incredibly outstanding. If she didn't hurry up and lock him down, she was absolutely terrified some other girl in the city would snatch him up first!
Fueled by panic, the blushing Samina opened YouTube Shorts and Instagram Reels, typing rapidly into the search bar.
What kind of girls do Indian guys like? As she hit search, the algorithm immediately fed her a barrage of glamorous Indian influencers and Bollywood actresses. Stunning women wearing incredibly stylish modern lehengas, chic dresses, and flawless, heavy makeup appeared on her screen, dancing to upbeat Hindi songs with effortless grace.
Scrolling down further, she saw aesthetic aesthetic travel couple vlogs featuring effortlessly beautiful, sun-kissed Indian girls laughing on beaches.
Staring at the screen, Samina's face turned completely red.
Is this what Rahul likes? This is probably the standard for guys from Mumbai, right? Determined, Samina typed another frantic query into the search bar.
How can I make an Indian guy happy? What are the green flags when dating an Indian man? That night, the wealthy heiress suffered from intense insomnia.
Her head was swirling with images of those impossibly glamorous Indian girls. Samina suddenly felt like every girl in India was ten times prettier and more stylish than she was. Her heart was filled with a deep, crushing sense of crisis and newfound inferiority.
It wasn't until late into the night that Samina finally locked her phone screen, a look of absolute resolution settling over her face.
So, modern Indian guys value girls who are confident, stylish, and bring positive energy! At this moment, the pampered heiress who had lived in pure luxury since childhood and stood at the very peak of Dhaka's high society felt an intense, burning surge of competitive spirit.
No! I refuse to lose! I must find a way to win Rahul over! ***
Early the next morning, Rahul woke up from his deep slumber, stretched his stiff muscles, and checked his phone.
Seeing no urgent messages, he walked into the bathroom to wash up, taking a few extra minutes to properly style his hair.
Looking at his unfairly handsome, chiseled face in the mirror, Rahul nodded in deep satisfaction.
With the 5,000 Taka Samina had forced upon him safely tucked in his pocket, he could afford to hail a rickshaw today and head to one of the massive luxury malls in the wealthy district to go 'hunting'.
Today's main objective: Farm exactly 1 Charm Point.
Grabbing his phone, DJI camera, and power bank, Rahul pulled his room card from the slot and headed down to the lobby.
He originally intended to walk straight into the hotel's breakfast buffet, but as he passed the reception desk, the male clerk on duty enthusiastically flagged him down.
"Mr. Rahul, sir! Someone dropped off breakfast for you again. Please sign here."
The clerk handed over a neat brown paper bag.
Rahul peeked inside to see the exact same order: two fresh sandwiches and a hot latte.
He didn't even need to guess; Anjali had clearly sent it. He hadn't expected the thoughtful, busy government worker to actually remember to buy him breakfast on her morning commute to the office.
This simple, consistent act of care gave Rahul a strange, inexplicably warm feeling—almost like the flutter of a high school first love.
Am I really this easy to please? Rahul mocked himself internally.
But honestly, after dealing with Ananya's high-maintenance, financially draining demands for six years, these small, genuine daily gestures were incredibly effective at breaking through his defenses. It was like surviving on plastic, fake delicacies for years, only to suddenly be handed a plate of perfectly home-cooked comfort food. It just tasted exceptionally sweet.
"Mr. Rahul?"
Just as Rahul was about to walk away with his breakfast, the male clerk called out to him, his voice suddenly dropping to a nervous whisper.
"Yes? Is something wrong?" Rahul asked.
The clerk hesitated, looking around the empty lobby before speaking in a highly sincere, desperate tone:
"Sir, I just wanted to ask you... how can I be like you? How do you get so many beautiful, high-class girls to treat you so well?"
"One wealthy girl yesterday, another VIP today... I just..."
Rahul held up a hand, stopping the clerk's desperate plea. He looked the guy dead in the eye and spoke with absolute, solemn sincerity:
"First, you have to develop a deeply interesting personality."
"Second, you have to look exactly like me."
With that mic-drop advice, Rahul turned and carried his breakfast into the restaurant. He left the poor clerk staring blankly at his reflection in the lobby mirror, shaking his head in total despair.
After quickly polishing off the sandwiches, Rahul stepped out of the hotel and flagged down a CNG auto-rickshaw on the bustling street.
He told the driver in flawless Bengali to take him to 'City Centre', one of the largest, most upscale shopping complexes in Dhaka.
The driver instantly tried to fleece the foreigner, asking for 1,000 Taka. But Rahul, channeling his inner Mumbai haggling spirit, ruthlessly slashed the price down to 200. After a minute of aggressive bargaining, they met in the middle at 400 Taka.
After inhaling Dhaka's infamous traffic exhaust for thirty minutes, Rahul stepped out of the rickshaw, dusting himself off.
Looking up at the massive, gleaming glass facade of the shopping center, which was significantly more luxurious than the one he had visited on his first day, Rahul felt a surge of confidence.
He flipped his camera screen on, checked his angles, and strode confidently through the grand sliding doors.
Just like the past two days, the absolute second Rahul stepped into the air-conditioned atrium, he was like a high-powered spotlight in a dark room. He instantly magnetized the attention of every woman in the vicinity.
However, because it was a Monday morning, the demographic currently roaming the luxury mall was mostly wealthy housewives, 'aunties', and young mothers pushing strollers.
Rahul had absolutely zero intention of farming Charm Points from them. Setting aside whether they were attractive or not, his moral compass simply wouldn't let him flirt with married women!
Still, Rahul maintained his polite, magnetic aura. After reluctantly, but charmingly, agreeing to take a selfie with a group of giggling older aunties, he quickly escaped deeper into the mall.
At that exact same time, down in the VIP underground parking lot, Samina's Range Rover pulled into a reserved spot.
Ever since she had spiraled over those Indian Instagram Reels the night before, she had made it her mission to revamp her wardrobe. She rushed to this specific mall the second she woke up because it had the best selection of international and South Asian designer boutiques.
Rahul was completely unaware that Samina was currently riding the escalators up into the same building.
He was holding his camera, casually strolling down the sleek, marble-floored corridors of the fashion wing.
As he walked, two girls entered his line of sight, walking about ten feet ahead of him.
They looked absolutely identical. From their sleek, perfectly styled hair, down to their sharp, tailored corporate pencil skirts and fitted blazers.
Wait... are they twins? Just as Rahul was admiring the view, the twin on the left suddenly swung her arm while talking. A delicate silver bracelet flew off her wrist and landed with a soft clink right in the center of the marble floor, directly in Rahul's path.
Rahul paused, staring at the shiny bracelet on the ground, a deeply amused smirk spreading across his face.
Holy crap, System. Could you possibly make this setup any more cliché?