Light cuts through the curtains-sharp, unwelcome.
I don't move. Stillness is easier. The silence up here is absolute. Just the whisper of the wind against glass, the low hum of the heating system. No voices. No steps. No mistakes.
No one comes up to the second floor. It's not allowed. They all know that.
If anything needs doing, it's left at the door. I hear them pause, hesitate. Then walk away.
My room is silent, like a held breath.
Everything has its place-nothing more, nothing less. The walls are a soft, matte charcoal, no art, no distractions. Just space. Space to think. To breathe. To not be seen.
The bed is large, angular, dressed in crisp white sheets and a slate-gray coverlet folded with exact corners.
To the right, tall windows framed in minimal black drapes overlook the private garden. Not that I care about the view. It's the light I measure-morning, afternoon, dusk. It matters for fabric.
I sleep here. I work here. I think here.
No one else steps inside. Not even to clean.
This room is mine. And mine alone.
I head to bathroom, after freshening up, from the back door in the bathroom I head to walk-in closet. After wearing, white shirt, black pant, my perfectly polished leather shoes, and Rolex watch, i exited the room. I descended the stairs, and head towards dining room.
After serving breakfast everyone left, as no one is allowed in the dining room when I'm eating, as I prefer solitude.
Heading out, I went inside the lift, which leads me to basement, where my cars are parked, i chooses Mercedes-Benz-S-Class and drove off to my company- my Empire.
---
I was in my cabin, when Ashok entered and informed me about the incomplete task, which I left behind yesterday.
"Sir... You've to visit private fitting department. Models are already waiting." Ashok spoke.
"Hmm." Next minute we were at the private fitting room. A minimalist white room flooded with natural light, a select group of models stands in gowns.
"Step forward." I ordered one of the models. "Turn. Thar neckline- adjust it by an inch. Tailor- take note." A senior tailor steps forward to make the change.
"This isn't a dress. It's a declaration. Make sure it says something. The gown tells a story, don't make it whisper." After checking everything I left.
Now last but not least, the Runway rehearsal.
Light, music, movement. I was sitting, and watching from the centre seat of a private hall. Models walk one by one. "Stop the track, that walk- redo it. That pause- half a second too long, Reset. Be confident." Even slightest mistake is not an option.
---
I was checking the list of fabrics. Someone suddenly barged in. "Who the hell....." I stopped mide-way seeing Dhruv.
"Hello buddy." Dhruv my best friend from school.
"What the hell Dhruv, why don't you knock?" I questioned irritated by disturbance.
"Calm down Aaryan, you know I hate to knock. And why should I knock, when I can barge in." He winked.
"Shutup idiot."
"By the way, I came to tell you that, be ready at 6 PM, we're going to fresher's party, that is going to held in my college." Dhruv is a professor of English literature.
"Who told you I'm coming?" Tu
"Come on Aaryan. kitna kaam karega? I know you've lot in your plate. That's why I'm taking you to relax."
{ How much work will you do? }
"Please.... Mere liye aaja." He made puppy eyes. Huh! This man is still kid.
{ Come for me. }
"Okay." I replied not so excited.
" I love you Aryan." He jumped happily.
"Ruk, kriti ko batata hu." I joked a he said I love you.
{ Wait, I'll tell kriti. }
"I was just joking. I only love kriti." He replied like a scared kitten.
---
Okay. Deep breath.
I've had my outfit planned for two weeks, but somehow, I'm still standing in front of the mirror second-guessing everything. The soft blue dress I picked is hanging off my shoulders just right-flowy, a little vintage, not too flashy. It's totally me. But my hands are still fidgeting with the hem like I'm not sure if I should change.
I'm getting ready for a fresher party. Which is going to be held in our college in about an hour, and I'm still here, in my room, deciding my outfit.
"Come on sakshi. You're looking best."I whispered to myself.
I do my makeup carefully-dewy skin, a hint of blush, just a touch of gloss. Nothing dramatic. I'm not here to stand out. I just want to feel like I belong.
I left my hair open. I slide on a pair of white flats-heels just aren't my thing-and double-check that I have my ID and lip balm in my bag.
Taking a last look of myself in the mirror, I left my room. I was heading downstairs, "Sakshi." Papa called me making me halt my steps.
"Is tomorrow your day off from college?" He questioned
"Yes, papa." I replied already knowing the reason.
He just hummed in response.
I slide into my sleek, pearl-white Audi A3. My phone buzzed, I look at my phone for caller I'd, karthik. I answered the call, wearing my seat belt. We're are not close friends, but he is my only friend. We don't hang out everytime, no chit chat every hour. Still, we're friends. He'll be there to update me about gossips, about who is dating whom, and check on me.
"Where are you, Sakshi? The party is about to start." He questioned.
"I'll be there in next 30 mins." I replied.
"You better come fast." He warned me in not so serious time.
I Just hummed before ending the call. And started driving. After 30 mins finally I'm here.
I was looking at the crowd, when someone waved at me. It was karthik. The party was already started.
"I'm i late?" I inquired.
"No you're not. The party just started." He replied.
"Thank God." Saying we both went to join others. I'm don't talk with everyone, but karthik never leave a chance to drag me into groups.
The party was alive with music, dance, screams, evryone taking photos, karthik drag me to our class group. Here we are talking about random things, laughing, creating memories.
"Now it's time for a dance. Come on fresher's enjoy yourself." Some seniors yelled in mic.
For the first time I want to keep my introvert ass aside, and enjoy the moment.
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