❝ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔'𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 - 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒈𝒍𝒚. ❞
•••
Sometimes love doesn't knock on the right door. Sometimes it slips in through a misdial, a l...
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Author'sPOV-
"Wrong number. But good luck, stranger."
He blinked. Read it again. Then grinned.
For the first time that day, something felt... light.
He replied: "Thanks. Maybe your good luck will work better than mine."
No reply.
But Arjun didn't mind. The stranger had no clue who he was. And somehow, that made the message mean more.
He looked down at his lucky keychain.
"Stranger ne dua di," he whispered to himself. "Match toh jeet hi jaayenge."
("A stranger wished me luck. I guess atleast we'll win the match now.")
Ping. Came another text and then another and another... And after an eternity there's chat came to an end...
He closed his eyes. For the first time in days, sleep came easy.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
MUMBAI, MAHARASHTRA
(Earlier the same day....)
Mira Sharma was late. Again.
She zipped through the Mumbai traffic on her Activa like it owed her money, one hand on the handle, the other half-texting her best friend, and her backpack swinging like a pendulum behind her.
Her hair was in a state of rebellion against gravity, her eyeliner uneven, and her mouth stuffed with half a vada pav.
TYPICAL MIRA!
"Beta, helmet!" an uncle shouted from a fruit stall.
She blew him a kiss.
Oh did I tell you there were only two things Mira took seriously in life:
1.) Her memes
2.) Not taking life seriously. Literally.
She screeched into the digital marketing agency she worked for, ten minutes late but grinning like she invented the concept of being fashionably unbothered.
"Why are you always late?" her boss asked, arms crossed.
"Because my charm needs time to load," Mira replied, tossing her helmet onto her desk and high-fiving the intern beside her.
"Also, I tripped on a pigeon. You wouldn't understand. Trauma."
The rest of the day was a blur of Reel and Tik-tok edits, client rants, and Mira secretly photoshopping her boss into a Minion for revenge.
