“Yeah Mom, what happened? Why did you and Dad call me so many times?” Shivay asked the moment he picked up, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
“I told you to come home early, didn’t I? And you’re still stuck at the office.” Maanvi’s voice carried unmistakable annoyance.
“Yeah, Mom… actually, the clients showed up late, so…” Shivay replied quietly, like a guilty child caught in the act.
Maanvi sighed on the other end. “Anyway… everyone’s asking about you. They want to know when you’re coming.”
“What? Everyone’s already there?” Shivay’s tone shifted to surprise.
“Yes! So hurry up now.” She said, her voice sharp with urgency.
“Alright, Mom. I’m leaving now.” He said, finally realizing he was actually running late.
“Good. I’ll hang up now.” Maanvi replied curtly.
“Okay, Mom.” Shivay answered before the line disconnected.
As the call ended, he let out a deep breath—like the whole day’s exhaustion had landed on his shoulders all at once. He stood up, grabbed his coat from the table, slid it on, and stepped out of his cabin, locking the door behind him.
Within minutes, he was in the parking lot of the office building. Unlocking his car, he slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
The soft glow of the setting sun fell across his face, but all his mind could focus on was one thing—getting home… as fast as he could.
At Rajbhandari Mansion
The kitchen was bustling with activity. Servants moved swiftly, preparing dinner with practiced coordination. Upstairs, the younger sons—Rishi and Aarav—were holed up in their rooms, busy revising for upcoming exams, while the rest of the family lounged in the living room, chatting and unwinding from the day.
Just then—
Trin Trin...
The doorbell rang.
A servent rushed over and opened the door.
Shivay stepped inside, walking in with long, purposeful strides. The moment he entered, all the elders turned to look at him. Without missing a beat, he walked straight toward the living room and respectfully touched the feet of each elder, one by one, seeking blessings.
Their faces softened with fond smiles—equal parts love and pride for him.
After greeting everyone, Shivay straightened up.
“I’ll head to my room now.” He said calmly.
“Alright, but come downstairs after freshening up.” Maanvi said gently.
“No, Mom. I’ve got a bit of office work to finish, so I’ll have dinner in my room.” He replied, glancing at her briefly.
“Okay, that’s fine.” Maanvi nodded with a soft smile.
Shivay turned to leave but paused mid-step.
“Oh—and bring me a cup of coffee.” He instructed one of the servants.
“Yes, sir.” The servant replied with a nod and immediately hurried off to the kitchen.
Shivay made his way up the stairs, his steps heavy, each one echoing the exhaustion of a long day. The weight of responsibilities clung to him like a second skin, his face calm yet distant—like even speaking to himself required too much effort.
As soon as he entered his room, he quietly shut the door behind him. He slipped off his coat and headed straight to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he emerged, freshened up but still looking just as burdened.
Without wasting a second, he walked over to his desk and flipped open his laptop. The screen lit up with unread emails, pending reports, and a half-finished client presentation. He got to work instantly, his fingers moving across the keyboard with practiced precision.
A soft knock at the door broke the silence.
Knock knock.
“Come in.” Shivay said, eyes still glued to the screen.
The door creaked open slowly. A house staff member stepped in, holding a tray with a steaming cup of coffee.
“Sir, your coffee.” The servent said politely.
“Put it on the table.” Shivay responded, his gaze never leaving the laptop.
“Yes, sir.” The servent placed the cup gently on the side table
“But sir, what about your dinner? Should I bring it up to your room?” The servant asked politely, his voice soft and hesitant.
“There’s no need. I already ate something at the office.” Shivay replied, eyes still fixed on the laptop screen, his tone firm yet detached.
“Okay, sir.” The servant nodded and quietly exited the room, closing the door behind him.
Shivay reached for his coffee, taking a long sip before diving back into his files. The room fell into silence again, broken only by the steady tick-tick of keyboard strokes echoing through the air.
Then—another knock.
Knock knock.
“Come in.” Shivay said, still not lifting his gaze from the screen.
The door creaked open, and in walked Aarav and Rishi—the youngest members of the Rajbhandari clan. Their faces were lit with mischief, that familiar spark of sibling chaos.
“Bro, you’re seriously back on your office grind again?” Rishi said, strolling over to Shivay’s chair.
“Exactly! Come on, bro, let’s watch a good movie together. Just us three!” Aarav chimed in, practically bouncing with excitement.
Shivay let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead in frustration. Slowly, he turned toward them, giving both of them a sharp look.
“No. I’ve got important work to do. Don’t disturb me. Go study for your exams.” he said, his voice clipped, no room for argument.
Before either of them could protest, Shivay stood and began ushering them toward the door.
“Out. Now.” He said sternly.
“But bro, just listen—” Rishi started, trying to plead his case.
“Please, bro! Just one movie!” Aarav added quickly.
“I said no, and no means no!” Shivay snapped, his temper finally showing.
With a final push, he herded both of them out of the room and slammed the door shut. The click of the lock echoed through the silence.
Back to work. Back to silence. Back to being the man who had no time to pause.
“Bro, is so boring…” Aarav groaned, letting out a dramatic sigh as if all his dreams had just been crushed in one go.
“Totally agree. Come on, let’s watch a movie ourselves.” Rishi said, patting Aarav on the shoulder with a sly smile.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Aarav nodded instantly. The two of them exchanged a quick glance—eyes sparkling with silent mischief, an unspoken plan already taking shape.
Without another word, they tiptoed down the stairs, heading straight for the living room where the TV awaited them like an old friend. The world of movies was ready to whisk them away—far from reality, at least for a little while.
Meanwhile upstairs, Shivay hit send on his final email, then leaned back in his chair. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes, letting the noise of meetings, pressure of deadlines, and weight of responsibilities slowly dissolve into silence.
A moment later, he stood, walked over to his bed, and lay down. The tension in his body finally began to ease as sleep wrapped him in its quiet embrace.
Next day at rajbhandari industrial company
The morning sunlight filtered through the glass panels, casting a soft, golden glow across Shivay’s office. The room was quiet—peaceful—except for the occasional rustle of papers and the soft clicking of his laptop keyboard.
Shivay sat with intense focus, eyes glued to the files spread out before him. Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Come in.” He said without looking up.
His assistant entered, holding a tablet and a few documents in hand.
“Sir, your schedule.” The assistant said, placing a file neatly on his desk.
“Schedule? Yeah, go ahead.” Shivay put down his pen and looked at him.
“You have four meetings today, sir. And a few interviews lined up too.”
“You and Miss Adhikari handle the interviews. Just tell me the meeting timings.” Shivay said, his tone firm but professional.
“The first one’s at 11 AM, second at 2 PM, then 4 PM, and the last one’s at 6:30 PM. But the 6:30 meeting might run late… could go till 9.”
“Alright. What time is it now?” Shivay glanced at the clock.
“It’s 10:15 AM, sir. And the interviews start at 11:30.”
“Okay. Go check the interview room. See if all the candidates have arrived.” He instructed, his voice calm but commanding.
“Yes, sir.” The assistant nodded and quickly exited the room.
Shivay exhaled slowly, picked up the next meeting’s file, and buried himself in work once again—focused, composed, and ready to lead another day like the powerful force he was.
Meanwhile – At Divya’s House
The soft morning light streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow on the dining table where Divya and Reyansh sat enjoying a peaceful breakfast.
“Bro, pass me the chutney, please.” Divya said, pointing toward her plate.
“Here you go… anything else?” Reyansh asked with a smile, handing over the bowl.
“Nope, that’s it, bro.” She replied, and the two of them quietly continued their meal.
Once they were done, Reyansh stood up and began loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
“I’m heading to the office now.” He said, glancing at his watch.
“Okay, bro.” Divya said as she pushed her chair back and stood up.
“Hmm… take care of yourself, okay?” He added, giving her one last look before leaving.
“Wait a minute, bro… I needed to talk to you about something.” Divya said, her voice suddenly more serious.
“Yeah? What is it?” He asked, pausing in the middle of putting on his blazer.
“Um… I have an interview today.” Divya said softly, a mix of hope and nervousness in her eyes.
“That’s amazing! And I’m 100% sure my sister is going to ace it. So, what time is the interview?” Reyansh beamed with pride.
“They called me at 11:30 AM.” Divya answered.
“It’s already 10:45. Come on, go get ready fast. I’ll drop you.” He offered, checking his watch again.
“No need for that, bro. You go ahead to the office. I’ll drive myself.” Divya said with a confident smile.
“Alright, fine… but give your best in the interview. Don’t be nervous, okay? Hmm? Best of luck, my princess.” He said warmly, placing a gentle hand on her head.
“Thank you, bro,” She said, her eyes now glowing with new confidence.
Reyansh headed off to work, and on the other side, Divya went to get ready, grabbed her car keys, and walked out the door with determination in her step.
Back to Rajbhandari Company
Inside the grand building of Rajbhandari Industrial Company, the atmosphere in the waiting hall was thick with anticipation. Rows of hopeful candidates sat clutching their files and resumes—each face telling a different story. Some looked nervous, some confident, and some simply calm, silently preparing for what lay ahead.
Among them was Divya Paudel
As she stepped in, her eyes scanned the room, taking in the competition, the energy, and the slight tension in the air. She walked over to an empty seat beside a group of girls and settled in, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
A flicker of worry crossed her face.
“I think I’m late… the interview isn’t over already, is it?” She whispered to the girl beside her, trying to hide the nervous tremor in her voice.
“No, it hasn’t even started yet. There’s still time.” The girl replied with a soft, reassuring smile.
“Oh, thank god.” Divya exhaled in relief and quickly adjusted the papers in her resume folder.
For a few minutes, the room was filled with nothing but the quiet ticking of the clock and soft murmurs. Every second seemed to stretch endlessly.
And then—
Click.
A door at the far end creaked open.
A sharply dressed woman with crisp posture and confident strides walked in—it was one of the company’s staff.
“Attention, candidates.” She announced in a firm tone. “The interview round has officially begun. Please come in one by one when your name is called.”
Silence instantly fell over the room.
Everyone sat a little straighter. Breath hitched. Palms grew clammy.
The first name was called, and a girl stood up, clutching her file tightly as she made her way into the room with hesitant steps.
One by one, the others followed, slowly shrinking the list of names.
Divya’s heart thudded in her chest. Thoughts raced through her mind—Will I be able to speak properly? Will they like my portfolio? What if this is the start of my new journey… or just another rejection?
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a steady breath.
The hall was nearly empty now. Most of the candidates had already finished their interviews and left. Only two girls remained seated—Divya and the girl she had recently befriended.
“Looks like it’s just you and me now.” The girl said with a light smile, as if trying to ease the tension hanging in the air.
“Yeah… and I’m really nervous.” Divya admitted, twisting her fingers together in her lap. The anxiety in her voice was unmistakable.
“Don’t worry, you’ll do just fine. Just believe in yourself.” The girl said encouragingly.
Divya offered a small, grateful smile.
“So, which position are you here for?” She asked, trying to keep the conversation going—anything to distract her mind from spiraling thoughts.
“I’m here for the marketing post. What about you?” The girl replied.
“I applied for the fashion designer position. Actually, one of my friends told me about this company… so I thought—why not give it a try?” Divya shared, a flicker of confidence glinting in her eyes for the first time.
“Oh, that’s nice!” The girl nodded supportively.
Just then, a staff member stepped out of the interview room and called out—
“Miss Neha Giri!”
The girl instantly perked up.
“Oh! That’s me… my turn now.” Neha quickly gathered her file.
“All the best, Neha!” Divya said, her voice warm and sincere.
“Thank you!” Neha smiled, then walked confidently toward the interview room.
And now… Divya was alone.
The hall fell into a heavy silence. The only sounds left were the ticking of the wall clock—and her racing heartbeat.
“Oh God… I’m so tense. Please let everything go well.” She murmured to herself, eyes glued to the door—waiting, hoping for Neha to return soon.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open.
Neha stepped out.
Neha stepped out of the room, a faint smile on her face, though there was a hint of fatigue in her eyes.
“How was it?” Divya asked instantly, her voice laced with both curiosity and nervousness.
“It was okay... I was a little nervous at first, but I managed to pull myself together,” Neha replied with a relieved sigh.
Divya gave a slow nod.
“Now it’s my turn... and I’m honestly terrified.” She admitted, clutching her file tightly. Her heart was pounding so loud, it felt like the rest of the world had gone quiet.
“Don’t stress. You’ve got this. Just trust yourself,” Neha said with a reassuring smile, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
At that exact moment, a voice echoed from the hallway—
“Miss Divya, please come in.”
Divya’s breath hitched.
She stood up, closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself, then nodded with a faint smile and began walking toward the room.
One step at a time…
And with every step, she whispered a silent prayer in her heart. Please… just let me be enough.
Inside the Interview Room...
Divya stepped in, her footsteps light but her nerves loud. In front of her was a long table, behind which sat Miss Adhikari and an assistant, both with serious expressions. Her palms were slick with sweat, but she wore a confident smile like armor.
“Please, have a seat.” Miss Adhikari said in a calm, composed voice.
Divya nodded gently and sat down. She opened her folder and placed her designs neatly in front of them. Her breath was uneven, but she forced her trembling hands to stay still.
“Miss Divya Paudel, right?” The assistant asked, flipping through her résumé.
“Yes, sir.” Divya replied, her voice slightly shaky but clear.
The assistant examined her designs closely—every stroke, every pattern, like he was reading the story of her hard work.
“You made this yourself?” He asked, pointing to one of her sketches.
“Yes, sir.” Divya replied with a soft smile.
There was a brief pause.
Then his gaze met hers, lingering for a moment.
“Impressive.” The assistant finally said, the faintest flicker of appreciation on his face.
Divya’s heart skipped a beat.
Then she smiled—genuine, relieved.
“Thank you, sir.” She said humbly.
“Well, we’d like to ask you a few questions now. Are you ready?”
Divya took a deep breath, gathering all her nervous energy and turning it into strength.
“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” She replied, lifting her chin with quiet determination.
The assistant asked with a slight smile—
“Tell us about yourself and your journey as a fashion designer?”
Divya took a deep breath, her grip on the portfolio tightening just a little. But then she lifted her head, her voice steady—soft at first, but filled with honesty and quiet passion.
I’ve recently graduated in fashion designing, and since childhood, I’ve had a deep interest in art, colors, and clothing. Even though I haven’t had formal experience in the industry yet, I’ve worked on several college projects, designed outfits for local events, and built a small portfolio that reflects both my creativity and my personal style.” Divya said.
She spoke with calm sincerity, her words unpolished but real—like someone who might be new, but not uncertain of her path.
“And where did you find the inspiration to become a fashion designer?” Miss Adhikari asked, her tone both curious and professional.
“Fashion has always been a way for me to express my creativity,” Divya began, her eyes lighting up slightly as she spoke. “Watching fashion shows and reading about designers like Sabyasachi and Manish Malhotra inspired me. I wanted to create something unique—something that blends tradition with innovation. I love how fashion can boost confidence and reflect who we are on the inside.”
Her voice held a quiet passion, the kind that didn’t scream for attention but made you want to listen anyway.
“How do you stay updated with the latest fashion trends?” The assistant asked, flipping through her portfolio once more.
Divya smiled, her nervousness slowly fading as she found her rhythm.
I follow major fashion weeks, read magazines like Vogue, and keep up with fashion influencers on Instagram and Pinterest. I also pay close attention to street style and cultural trends—they’re often the best source of fresh ideas,” She replied.
There was a spark in her voice now—subtle but sure. Like a girl who might be new to the industry, but had the heart of someone born for it.
“What is your design process like?” Miss Adhikari asked, curiosity flickering in her tone.
Divya straightened slightly, her fingers no longer clenched around the edges of her portfolio.
“I always begin with inspiration—whether it’s drawn from nature, art, or culture. Then I sketch my ideas, select suitable fabrics, and decide on the color palette. After that, I create a digital version of the design using software like Illustrator, and finally, I work out all the details related to stitching and construction,” She explained, her voice calm but confident.
In that moment, Divya wasn’t just a fresh graduate with big dreams—she was a creator, an artist in the making.
“What would you say is your signature style?” The assistant asked, a pen paused above his notepad.
Divya smiled faintly, her confidence building with each question.
“My style is a fusion of modern minimalism and traditional ethnic elements. I love experimenting with textures and asymmetrical cuts—to create designs that are both bold and wearable,” she said with a quiet pride.
There was a spark in her eyes now—like someone who had finally found the language to describe her soul.
“And how do you handle criticism or feedback?” Miss Adhikari asked, her tone calm yet probing.
Divya paused for a beat, then answered with quiet maturity, “I believe constructive feedback is essential for growth. As an emerging designer, I genuinely welcome suggestions from seniors and mentors. I try to stay open-minded and use every piece of feedback as a stepping stone to improve my designs.”
She spoke with a sincerity that lingered in the room—like someone not afraid to grow, even if it meant unlearning and starting again.
“And how would you handle a difficult client?” The assistant asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Divya’s expression remained composed, but her voice carried quiet confidence.
“I would listen calmly, try to understand their concerns, and offer solutions that align with their vision. Clear communication and a professional attitude are key. I always aim to strike a balance between the client’s expectations and my own creative instincts.”
Her words reflected not just skill, but maturity—the kind that doesn’t crumble under pressure, but adapts with grace.
“What are your career goals for the next five years?” Miss Adhikari asked.
Divya smiled softly, her eyes shining with determination.
“I want to gain real-world experience, sharpen my technical skills, and eventually start a brand that promotes sustainable and culturally inspired fashion. For now, I’m excited to learn, contribute, and grow in a creative environment.”
Her words carried the spark of ambition and hope—ready to turn dreams into reality, one step at a time.
The assistant leaned forward slightly, curiosity sparkling in their eyes.
“If you could design for any celebrity, who would it be—and why?” He asked.
Divya took a deep breath, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“Deepika Padukone,” She said with quiet confidence. “She embodies both strength and grace. I’d love to create something for her that captures that—something powerful yet elegant. Maybe a modern silk saree with bold metallic embroidery. Designing for her would be like a dream coming true.”
Her words hung in the air, filled with hope and passion, revealing the artist’s heart behind the designer.
Miss Adhikari’s eyes softened with interest as she asked,
“What has been the proudest moment in your design journey so far?”
Divya’s smile grew a little wistful as she recalled, “That moment when someone wore my design for the first time at a college event. When she looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes sparkled like she was seeing herself in a whole new light. That moment—when someone feels beautiful wearing something I created—that’s what made all my sleepless nights, hard work, and struggles worth it.”
Her voice carried a quiet passion, revealing the heart behind her craft.
The assistant asked thoughtfully, “Do you believe fashion can bring about change?”
Divya nodded with conviction,
“Absolutely. Fashion tells stories—of people, places, and cultures. It holds the power to preserve heritage and break boundaries. I want to create designs that connect not just with trends, but with identity. Designs that honor the past and imagine the future.”
Her eyes shone with a visionary spark, reflecting her deep belief in the transformative power of fashion.
Miss Adhikari leaned forward with curiosity.
“Describe your dream fashion show.”
Divya’s eyes sparkled as her imagination came to life.
“A runway set against the golden sands of Rajasthan, beneath the open sky—bathed in the amber glow of twilight. The sand shifting softly underfoot, and the air echoing with the rhythm of folk music. Models would walk wearing a collection that fuses traditional craftsmanship with bold, contemporary silhouettes. It wouldn’t just showcase clothes—it would tell a story.”
For a moment, it wasn’t an interview anymore—it was a glimpse into the world Divya was determined to create.
The assistant smiled, pen poised. “Any advice for aspiring designers like you?”
Divya didn’t hesitate. Her voice was calm, yet full of quiet conviction.
“Don’t wait to be perfect. Perfection is a myth. Just start—messy, small, imperfect. What matters is your passion, your voice, your story. One day, that will become your signature.”
There was a beat of silence. The kind that settles in when truth is spoken simply—and it lingers, because it means something.
The assistant smiled as he closed the file and said, “Well done, Miss Divya. You're selected.”
Divya’s eyes sparkled with joy. She immediately stood up, her voice filled with gratitude— “Thank you, sir! Thank you so much for this opportunity.”
“So, when will you be joining? If you wish, you can start from today itself.” The assistant nodded.
“Sir, I have an important personal matter to attend to today… so if you allow, I’d prefer to join from tomorrow.” Divya replied politely.
“Alright, Miss Divya. You may join from tomorrow. You're free to go now.” the assistant said with a nod of approval.
“Okay, sir. Thank you so much.” Divya said with a bright smile.
She slipped the folder into her bag, offered one last polite smile, and with a graceful nod, walked out of the room—her steps steady, her heart confident.
As soon as Divya stepped outside, she headed straight for the exit.
Her sketchbook was clutched tightly to her chest, as if it didn’t just hold designs—but pieces of her very soul, fragile and deeply personal.
The echo of her heels rang softly against the tiled floor, yet her heartbeat thundered louder in her ears.
She paused near a pillar.
Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
The questions still swirled in her mind—along with countless answers she could’ve given. Maybe stronger ones, maybe more impactful.
But one thing was certain—she hadn’t faked a word.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated.
Divya quickly pulled it out of her bag and answered the call. “Hello...?”
On the other end came the most comforting voice she knew—Reyansh’s.
“How was the interview, Princess?” His tone was laced with warmth and excitement, just like always.
Divya's eyes lit up instantly. “It went really well, Bro!” She replied, her voice bubbling with joy.
“That’s amazing to hear!” Reyansh chuckled, the kind of smile you could hear through the phone—as if he were hugging her from miles away.
“Yes, bro! Come home early this evening, okay? I want to tell you everything in detail!” Divya was nearly bouncing on her feet now.
“Alright, Princess. I’ve got a few meetings to wrap up, then I’ll head straight home.”
“Okay, bro. Bye!”. “Bye, Princess.”
As soon as the call ended, Divya slipped her phone back into her bag. She took a deep breath and walked toward her car. Sliding into the driver's seat, she started the engine and headed home, her heart light with hope and excitement for the new beginning ahead.
Around 7:30 in the evening – Somewhere else
“Hey, when does the plane land?” The girl asked in a sleepy voice.
“Probably in half an hour.” The boy replied, eyes still fixed on his phone.
“Okay... wake me up once it lands. I’ll take a quick nap till then...” She reclined her seat slightly and closed her eyes.
“Okay, ma’am.” He said with a soft smile before going back to scrolling through his phone.
The girl slowly drifted into sleep, while the boy turned toward the window, lost in his screen.
Some time later, the plane landed. One by one, passengers began standing up to deboard.
“Ma’am, the plane has landed… time to wake up.” The boy leaned in and said.
But she didn’t move. Still fast asleep.
He tried again—
“Ma’am... ma’am, wake up...”
He gently shook her shoulder, raised his voice a little, but still—nothing.
“Great, she’s not waking up… what now?” He muttered to himself, looking around.
His eyes landed on the water bottle next to her seat. With a mischievous smile, he picked it up, poured a little water into his hand and—
Splash!
A light sprinkle hit her face.
Her eyes shot open in panic. “H-Hey! Is it raining?! Run…!”
“Ma’am, finally you're awake!” The boy sighed in relief.
The girl squinted at him, then furrowed her brows and said, “Oh… so this was your doing?”
The boy looked a little nervous, then smiled sheepishly— “Yeah, ma’am… you just wouldn’t wake up, so… desperate times. Sorry if it bothered you.”
She bit her lip, trying to hide a smile, then softly said, “It’s okay...”
The boy grinned with relief. “Great. Let’s get out of here before the entire flight keeps staring at us.”
“Hmm… let’s go.” She said as she stood up, fixing her hair and adjusting her shawl.
Together, they slowly made their way out of the plane.
“Ma’am, just wait here for a minute… I’ll call home and have the car sent over.” The boy said quickly.
“Alright.” The girl nodded gently, her voice now calmer.
The boy stepped a little away to make the call. A few moments later, he returned— “The car’s on the way. Should be here in five to ten minutes.”
Then, glancing at her a bit hesitantly, he asked— “Ma’am, while we wait… would you like something to eat?”
She smiled softly and nodded, “Yeah… just a cold coffee will do.”
Immediately alert, he replied— “Okay, ma’am. Please wait right here, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Sure.” She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
The boy quickly headed toward the café nearby. A few minutes later, he returned—carrying a tray with a perfectly frothed cold coffee in hand.
“Ma’am, your coffee.” The boy said softly, handing her the cup with a gentle smile.
“Hnm… thank you.” The girl replied, taking it from him. Her voice carried both exhaustion and something unspoken.
She sipped slowly, like every drop was helping her gather her thoughts. Then, suddenly, her eyes rested on him.
“By the way… there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
The boy immediately straightened up. “Yes, ma’am? Go ahead.”
She was silent for a moment, then said quietly, “Please don’t tell my brother why we came back early.”
The boy looked surprised. “But… why, ma’am?”
She let out a slow breath, then murmured, “Because… my brother still doesn’t know I have a boyfriend.”
For a second, the boy looked uncomfortable. “But ma’am… I can’t lie to the boss.”
She gave him an innocent, pleading look. “One small lie won’t hurt anyone. Please… just this once?”
After a moment’s hesitation, the boy nodded slowly. “Okay… but what do we tell him then?”
Without missing a beat, she said, “Just tell him my solo trip ended sooner than expected. That’s all.”
The boy nodded. “Okay, ma’am…”
But then, a flicker of frustration—maybe even bitterness—flashed in her eyes.
“Just don’t tell him the real reason… that I came here for a two-month trip with my boyfriend, and he was too busy working the whole time. So I ended up exploring everything with you.”
The boy laughed lightly, “Don’t worry, ma’am. Next time, maybe you’ll get to travel with him.”
She gave a soft chuckle, finishing the last sip of her coffee. “Yeah… next time. If there ever is one.”
Just then, the boy’s phone vibrated. He checked the screen and smiled,
“Ma’am, the car’s here. Let’s go… everyone’s going to be so surprised to see you back.”
She nodded gently, “Alright… let’s go.”
And with that, the two walked off together, stepping into the car and headed home.
At Rajbhandari Industrial Company – Head Office
Shivay had just wrapped up his final meeting of the day. Now seated in his cabin, he sifted meticulously through the scattered files on his desk. His eyes darted between the computer screen and the papers—his face carved with the same seriousness, the same mark of a perfectionist.
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door.
“Sir, your black coffee.” His assistant said as he entered.
Without lifting his gaze, Shivay responded, “Hnm… just place it on the side.”
“Okay, sir.” The assistant replied, gently placing the cup on the table.
“By the way, what happened with the interviews? How many candidates were selected?” Shivay’s voice was calm but carried a strict undertone.
“Uhm… ten candidates have been selected, sir. They’ll be joining from tomorrow.”
“Good. You can head home now.” Shivay said, subtly masking his fatigue.
“But sir, what about you?” The assistant asked, hesitantly.
“I’ll head out… in a bit. Need to go through some files.”
“Alright, sir.” The assistant said and quietly exited.
Now, only the soft hum of the AC filled the room… and Shivay’s unwavering focus.
He sat straighter in his chair, flipping through files, then opened his laptop and started going through emails. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard—wasting time was simply not in his nature.
After reading through several emails, his eyes finally drifted to the wall clock.
“Ah, it's already 10… I should head home now.” Shivay muttered to himself as he glanced at the clock.
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