The first text

★ Asif's POV ★

The world was dark and quiet when I opened my eyes again.

A strange, spicy aroma floated in the air—soft but sharp enough to break through my dreams.

"…Curry?"

I blinked, still lying on the couch, the dim light from the kitchen casting long shadows on the wall. My head felt foggy, like I had just drifted through space and landed back in reality.

I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and checked the clock on the wall.

"Past 10?!"

I had come home, slumped onto the couch for a short nap, and ended up time-traveling again.

The sounds of utensils clinking and the faint simmering confirmed the kitchen wasn't empty. I quietly shuffled toward it, still in my school pants and wrinkled shirt.

"Hmm. Finally woken up?"

My dad turned around from the stove, still holding a spatula in one hand and wearing a kitchen apron over his office shirt. His hair was a little messy, and his face had that typical tired-yet-peaceful look he always carried after a long day of work.

I gave him a sheepish smile and ran off to the washroom. A quick bath later, I was in my casual t-shirt and shorts, now slightly more alive than before.

The two of us sat down to eat. He'd cooked potato and egg curry—his favorite combo. We quietly shared the meal with the soft clinking of metal spoons and the occasional distant honk from the street below filling the silence.

"How was your day?" he asked after a few bites.

I froze.

The football match, Ayesha, the ice cream shop, the DM bomb Sajim dropped—all of it spun in my head like a storm. But I kept it simple.

"It was… good," I replied.

Not a lie. But not the full truth either.

He didn't press further. He just smiled warmly.

That was the kind of dad he was—never pushing, always waiting.

After finishing the meal and helping him clean up, I bade him a quiet goodnight and went back to my room.

And there it was.

My phone.

Still charging beside the bed.

One notification blinked up.

📨 Sajim: "Here's the link… good luck, lover boy 😏"

I stared at it.

A deep breath later, I tapped on the link.

It redirected to "Ayesha's Instagram profile".

Her feed was beautiful and vibrant.

Full of food pics, cafe aesthetics, soft-filtered sunsets, and the occasional mirror selfie. Her follower count? Way higher than mine. Way too high. Her captions were filled with soft jokes, life thoughts, and sometimes even cheesy food puns.

And then there was my Instagram.

One post.

A middle school group photo.

That's it.

A digital ghost town.

I sat there for almost fifteen minutes, unsure what to do. I opened the chat box, closed it, opened it again.

Then finally, I typed:

"Hi…"

And hit send.

What have I done?

I wanted to delete it, run away, uninstall the app, and move to a different continent.

But it was too late.

I saw the message was seen.

And then…

Typing…

My heart began racing. My fingers trembled.

> "Oh hey, Asif. How are you doing?"

I felt my cheeks go warm.

She replied. She actually replied!

"I'm doing fine. What about you?"

I typed as fast as I could—trying not to sound like a robot, but a textbook reply.

> "It's been great. Do you need anything?"

I stared at that sentence.

What do I say?!

Should I say nothing and pretend I just wanted to say hi?

Should I say yes? No? Maybe?

But no—

my brain was overruled.

My hands, without my consent, typed:

"I just wanted to talk to you…"

I hit send.

Immediately regretted it.

Oh no. That sounded way too much. She'll block me. I'm doomed. It's over. Sajim, you set me up for failure—

But then…

> "Well, I was just going to bed, so I guess we can chat for a bit 😊"

…what?

Did I just get lucky?

I quickly replied, "Thank you!", while trying not to scream.

I stared at the chat again, wondering what to say. My brain was blank.

Seconds passed, minutes passed. Then—

> "Couldn't think of a topic? How about we talk about movies."

Bless you, Ayesha. Bless your kind soul.

And so we did.

For nearly an hour we texted back and forth—comedy, thrillers, anime, favorite classics. I couldn't believe how easy it became once we started texting. Her energy, her vibe—it was natural, kind of comforting.

Then, just as I was typing a message about Studio Ghibli, I saw her send the final text for the night.

> "It was fun talking to you about movies. Hoping we could see the new movie together."

Wait—

Did she just—

A movie… with me?

I dropped my phone in panic.

My heart couldn't take this.

I scrambled to reply.

"Really.. I think it's time for sleep. Good night."

I pushed my phone to the side and fell face-first into the pillow, gripping it tightly.

What is this night. What is this life. What is this blessing.

The phone buzzed again.

> "Goodnight ❤️"

I saw the red heart emoji.

My whole soul malfunctioned.

I hugged my pillow tighter and fell asleep in the deepest state of secondhand embarrassment… and joy.

---

★ ???'s POV ★

—Somewhere unknown. A room with no light but one.

In a dark room, barely lit by a dim table lamp, a figure sat silently—legs crossed, a cup of steaming coffee in hand. The glow from the monitor reflected on the person's sharp eyes.

He took a slow sip, the silence only interrupted by the hum of a machine beside him.

"Well, it seems… he's taken the bait."

His lips curled into a slight smirk.

"Asif finally approached her…"

He leaned back, eyes narrowed.

"Just a little more push, and he'll tumble right into the abyss."

The coffee cup landed softly on the desk.

"The girls… they'll make fine fuel for the story I want."

Then he paused.

His expression darkened.

"…But that Sara girl…"

He clenched the armrest of his chair.

"She might be trouble."

He tapped his fingers on the table.

"I'll deal with her before she ruins my plans."

The screen glitched faintly.

The camera feed showed Ayesha's profile.

Another screen beside it blinked—Sara's.

The figure grinned.

"Let the game begin."