At The Velvet Cafe

Kiara and I entered the cozy cafe after school, just like we always did. It was our safe haven, a place we loved more than anything.

As soon as we stepped in, Kiara shouted, "Oh, ki haal paaji!"

(Oh, how are you?)

From behind the counter,

Manjit paaji, the owner of the cafe and our unofficial guardian, shook his head at her dramatic entrance. Every customer turned to look at us.

"Don't shout like this!"

Paaji scolded, though his tone was more amused than angry. "You’ll scare my customers away!"

Kiara and I made our way to our usual table as she retorted, "Paaji, we’re your special and regular customers. Admit it!"

Paaji muttered, “And annoying too,” before heading back to the counter.

Kiara laughed, but I was barely paying attention. My mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the day.

Specifically, what had happened in the library.

Ahaan Malhotra, the bad boy of our school, had asked me to be his dance partner.

Me.

Of all the girls in our school—beautiful, confident, and far more popular than me—why would he choose me?

I rested my chin on my hand, staring blankly at the table. Was it a prank? That thought kept gnawing at me. I had avoided his gaze all day, too afraid to look into his eyes for any hint of mockery.

Why me?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a shutter. I looked up to see Kiara holding her phone, grinning.

"Gotcha!" she said. "Look at this—your angelic pose. This is perfect for your Instagram DP!"

I glanced at the photo. She wasn’t wrong—it was beautiful, a candid shot that captured me lost in thought.

But Instagram?

"You know I don’t use Insta," I said, shaking my head.

Kiara rolled her eyes. "Why not? You should! You’re so photogenic. You’re wasting good pictures!"

I just shrugged, not in the mood to argue.

Paaji arrived with our usual order: cupcakes and boba tea. Without a word, he placed them on the table and walked away, muttering about "here your regular order."

I stared at my cupcake, but my mind was still clouded.

Should I say yes to Ahaan?

What if it was a prank? I’d be humiliated in front of the whole school. But what if it wasn’t?

Why me, though?

I sighed in frustration, running my fingers through my hair.

Kiara looked at me, frowning. “What’s wrong with you? Tera result itna acha aaya hai, aur tu munh latka ke baithi hai!”

(What's wrong with you? Your result has been so good, and you are sitting with your face hanging.)

I hesitated for a moment and then said, “Nothing... just... nothing.”

I sighed, feeling frustrated with myself. That was the problem with situations like this—I could never manage to say what I was really thinking.

Paaji, who had been watching us while wiping down the counter, decided to step in. He walked over and pulled up a chair, sitting down with his characteristic ease.

“Ki hoya?” he asked, looking at me with concern.

(what happened)

“It’s nothing,” I mumbled. “I was just... thinking.”

Kiara, never one to miss an opportunity to stir things up, leaned forward dramatically. “Thinking about what? Ishi, tell me! Is someone bothering you? Because, let me tell you, I just bought a brand-new hockey stick.”

I shook my head quickly, panicking a little. “No, no, it’s not like that. Actually...”

I hesitated again, looking between them. “There’s a friend of mine... and she told me that a guy asked her to be his dance partner. So... what should I—I mean, she—do?”

Kiara blinked at me, processing my words. “Hain?”

(What?)

I quickly added, stumbling over my words, “I mean, what should she do? Because she already has a crush...”

Kiara smirked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Is that boy hot? The one who asked her to dance?”

I looked down, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I... I don’t know.”

Which was a lie—I did know. Ahaan Malhotra was undeniably hot. But then there was Rahul...

Kiara interrupted my thoughts impatiently. “Tell me na, is he hot or not?”

I hesitated before finally muttering, “Yeah, he is... but she already has a crush!”

Paaji, who had been listening silently until now, leaned back in his chair and declared, “Uss crush nu goli maar!”

(Shoot your crush)

My eyes widened in shock. “Paaji!”

Kiara burst out laughing, almost knocking over her boba tea. "Woah I liked the idea paaji"

Paaji shrugged nonchalantly. “Sach baat hai. Crush-shrush kuch nahi hota.   jo tuhade samne hai use baare mein socho. Life chhoti hai!”

(It is true. Nothing fancy happens. Think about what is in front of you. Life is short!”)

I couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his straightforwardness, even though my mind was still spinning with thoughts of Ahaan... and Rahul.

Kiara nodded enthusiastically, pointing at Paaji. "You're absolutely right, Paaji!" Then she turned to me, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Ishi, leave your so-called crush and move on. Life’s too short for all this confusion."

"Yeah, but..." I stammered, trying to find a way to steer the conversation back to my imaginary "friend."

But before I could come up with something, Kiara interrupted. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you seriously telling me this is about your ‘friend’? Come on, Ishi. How long are you going to keep pretending?”

I froze. “No, no, it’s not me. It’s really my—”

“Yeah, yeah, your so-called friend,” Kiara said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at me.

I sighed deeply, realizing I was completely caught. There was no point in denying it now. She knew me too well.

At 4 PM, I headed home, reminding myself that I had tuition classes soon.

The worst part?

Ahaan also attended the same tuition.

How am I going to face him?

Relax, it’s fine. I’ll just say no to him. Simple. He can find any girl he wants; I’m definitely not his type.

But a nagging thought crept in. What if he gets angry?

I shook my head. That’s his problem, not mine.

I let out an annoyed groan before grabbing my black top and blue jeans. After fixing my hair, I picked up my phone, only to hesitate.

I still hadn’t made up my mind about Instagram.

Should I download it?

I also didn’t have Snapchat.

Rahul probably uses both of these apps.

My heart fluttered at the thought of Rahul. I didn’t have the courage to confess to him in person, but maybe, just maybe, I could confess online. That thought was enough to push me into action.

Before I could overthink it, I downloaded both Instagram and Snapchat.

Feeling a tiny bit accomplished, I grabbed my bag and headed out. The tuition center was quite far from home, but luckily, Kiara’s car horn blared as I stepped out of the gate.

We always carpooled to tuition because of the distance, and honestly, it was one of my favorite parts of the day.

Kiara didn’t bring up the topic of the dance partner, which I appreciated. She knew me too well and understood how nervous I got.

She was more than my best friend—she was my soulmate, always knowing when to push and when to back off.

We clicked a few photos in her car—her idea, of course—and then made our way to tuition.

When we arrived, there was still some time before the class started. A few students were lingering outside, gossiping in small groups.

And then I saw him.

Ahaan was there with his gang, leaning casually against their bikes and laughing about something. He looked effortlessly cool, as always, and the sight of him sent my heart racing.

I quickly got out of the car and turned my gaze elsewhere, pretending he didn’t exist. But I could feel his eyes on me.

I walked with Kiara, heading toward another group of friends who were from different schools.

Kiara struck up a conversation immediately, but I couldn’t stop glancing out of the corner of my eye. Ahaan and his gang were still there, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was watching me—or if I was just imagining things.

At 4:00 PM, our classes began.

Usually, I’d sit on the first bench, but Kiara had insisted we sit on the third bench instead. I didn’t argue much; I rarely won with her.

Predictably, Ahaan and his gang occupied the last bench, as always. They didn’t seem to care about studying. Half the time, they were on their phones, laughing and whispering among themselves. If they don’t want to study, why do they even come to tuition?

I shook my head, annoyed. And why am I even thinking about him?

The lecture started

The classroom buzzed faintly with whispers until the teacher’s voice cut through, steady and commanding.

“Today, we’ll talk about solenoids,” he began, his words drawing the class into silence.

I sat up straighter, my pen poised over my notebook. “A solenoid,” he continued, “is a coil of wire wound in the shape of a cylinder. When current flows through it, something fascinating happens—it produces a magnetic field.”

As he spoke, he drew a diagram on the board, the white chalk moving swiftly, creating loops and arrows that illustrated the flow of current. “This magnetic field,” he explained, “is not random. Inside the solenoid, it is strong and uniform, resembling the magnetic field of a bar magnet. Outside, it weakens. This is why solenoids are used to make powerful electromagnets.”

but I couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling of someone staring—or glaring—at me. My skin prickled with awareness, and I tried to focus, but it was impossible to ignore.

When the class ended, Kiara quickly packed her bag and called out,
It was 6 pm

“I’ll be waiting downstairs! Hurry up, okay?”

I nodded and stayed back to gather my stuff. The room emptied quickly, leaving me alone. I glanced around and realized everyone had already left.

I grabbed my bag and rushed toward the door. But my steps faltered as I noticed someone standing there.

Leaning casually against the wall, hands tucked in his pockets, head slightly bowed—it was Ahaan.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

I gripped the straps of my bag tightly, my palms clammy with nervousness.

What will I tell him?
Just say no and leave.
But what if he gets angry?

I hesitated, stealing a glance at him. He was wearing a sleek black outfit, looking effortlessly cool. The sharp contrast of his outfit against his confident posture was making my stomach do flips.

Stop checking him out, Ishi!

Taking a deep breath, I decided to ignore him and walk past. But just as I tried, he shifted slightly, his leg blocking my way.

I froze.

He tilted his head, his gaze locking onto mine. His dark eyes had a calm intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

And then he spoke. His voice was low and commanding.

“Yes or no?”

My heart raced as his words sank in. He’s not wasting time. No small talk, no explanations.

I swallowed hard, looking down.

“Sorry, but... no.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, suffocating. I could feel his gaze on me, sharp and unyielding. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

I didn’t dare look up. I kept my eyes on the floor, my grip on my bag tightening as I braced myself for his reaction.

I heard the soft scuff of his footsteps as he moved closer.

Oh no. He’s coming closer.

I clenched my eyes shut, feeling the heat of his presence inching toward me. My breath hitched.

But then—he brushed past me.

I opened my eyes just in time to see him grab his bag from the chair and walk away without another word.

For a second, I stood frozen, my chest heaving. Hud, that was close.

But the feeling of his piercing gaze and the intensity of his presence stayed with me long after he left.

I came downstairs, and the first thing I saw was Kiara, leaning against her car and scrolling through her phone. She looked up as I approached, giving me a raised eyebrow.

But what caught my attention next made my steps falter.

Ahaan was standing a few feet away with his gang. They were laughing—loud and carefree—but their eyes occasionally flicked toward him. Ahaan, however, didn’t seem amused. His jaw was clenched, his posture stiff. He looked... angry.

Is it because of me?

I quickly looked away and walked over to Kiara, trying to ignore the heaviness in my chest.

“You’re late,”

Kiara said, slipping her phone into her pocket. “What took you so long?”

“Nothing,” I muttered. “I was searching for my pen.”

She didn’t press further, and we got into the car. As we drove, we started talking, and I finally decided to bring it up.

“Kiara,” I began hesitantly, “will you help me set up my Instagram and Snapchat?”

Kiara turned to me so fast I thought she might sprain her neck. “WHAT?!”

Her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she just stared at me. Then, as the shock faded, excitement took over.

"OH MY GOD finally!” she exclaimed, nearly bouncing in her seat. “What happened? What changed? Tell me everything!”

I shrugged, trying to act casual. “Nothing much. I just... thought it might be nice to make some online friends. Share my posts, stories... you know, normal stuff.”

Kiara grinned like she had won the lottery. “Normal stuff, huh? Sure, Ishi.” She didn’t believe me, but she didn’t push. Instead, she held out her hand. “Give me your phone. Now.”

I handed it over, and she immediately got to work. Her fingers moved rapidly across the screen as she set up both apps for me.

“There,” she said after a few minutes, turning the phone back to me. “I even put a nice photo of you as your DP. And now, you just need to write something for your bio.”

I stared at the screen, thinking. What should I write? Something good... something simple but meaningful.

After a few moments, I typed:

"Lost in books, found in art, and making memories along the way. 🎨🖌️🧁"

Kiara looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Perfect. Now you’re officially part of the online world, my Ishi!”

I smiled softly, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the right step—or if I was just complicating things further.

I came home, greeted by my parents and my danav brother, as usual. The warmth of home always felt like a relief after a long day.

We sat down at the dinner table. My brother was too busy texting someone—likely his friends—focusing on his phone screen like he always does. Dad, absorbed in a book, barely looked up. Mom, as usual, was making dinner, the smell of it filling the room.

I sat quietly, glancing around at my family, feeling a sense of comfort in the stillness. My phone buzzed in my hand, drawing my attention back.

I tapped on the colorful Instagram icon, opening my profile. There it was me —Kiara had already posted the photos she took of me. I'm looked stunning. She truly had an eye for photography, capturing every angle so perfectly.

As I scrolled, I noticed I had a few followers, some people I recognized.

Then my brother, breaking the silence, looked up from his phone and asked, “Did you actually install Instagram?”

I nodded, a bit nervous about what my parents might think. Would they scold me for being online? For stepping into the world of social media?

But to my surprise, Mom and Dad didn’t react the way I expected. Instead, Dad gave me a smile and said, “Good, now you can post your paintings too. You should share your art with others, Ishi.”

I felt a rush of gratitude. Oh, I love my family.

Even my brother, the one who usually teased me, followed me and liked my post. As annoying as he could be, I knew he loved me and always had my back. He was protective in his own way, even if it didn’t always show.

I entered my bedroom, feeling that sense of peace I always got when I was in my personal space.

My room was always neat and organized, a habit I had picked up over the years. You could call me a bit of a clean freak, but there was one exception—my painting corner.

There was a small room attached to my bedroom, almost like a sanctuary. It was where I could escape into my world of colors and brushes.

As I looked at the unfinished painting sitting on the easel, I felt a wave of inspiration. I grabbed my brush, mixed some colors, and began to paint. The strokes felt right, and the canvas slowly started to come to life.

That was my day—peaceful, creative, and just how I liked it.

But then, to throw a little curveball into the mix, my phone buzzed.

I unlocked my phone and my eyes widened in shock. There were two follow requests, and the names on the screen nearly made my heart stop:

Follow Requests (2)

@rahul_5678.        [Confirm]  [ Delete]

@ahaan_0017.      [Confirm]   [Delete]

I froze, staring at the notifications. What?

Rahul—the boy I had a soft spot for. And Ahaan—the popular, confident guy who had made things so confusing lately.

Wow, what a great day, I thought sarcastically, trying to process everything. Was this some sort of sign? Should I accept them? Ignore them? A whirlwind of thoughts hit me all at once.

But for now, I just set my phone down and tried to focus on my painting. Sometimes, the simplest things helped clear the clutter in my mind.

If you’re enjoy this journey, please show your love and support! Every vote, comment, and share means the world to me. Thank you for joining me on this story, and I hope you’ll continue to follow Ishita and Ahaan’s journey! Your support truly motivates me to keep writing and sharing their world with you. 💖

Thank you 🫶🏻

➽─────────────────❥ 💕⃝🕊️