The air still felt thick with the echo of laughter from the day before. The memory of Ayaan walking back into that studio—the way his teammates had swarmed him with warmth and excitement—was still fresh. Noor hadn't known what to expect after that moment. But as she stepped inside the studio the next morning, the familiarity of the space almost welcomed her like it had been waiting.
Kartik was at the center of it all—joking, teasing, mocking himself before anyone else could. He had this self-deprecating charm that made even his pain sound poetic. Especially when it came to Mahira.
"She doesn't love me," he once sighed dramatically, tossing a stress ball in the air, "but she doesn't want me to leave either. Basically, I'm her houseplant."
Everyone laughed.
But if anyone else joked about Mahira, even lightly, Kartik's smile would freeze for half a second. He could joke—but no one else was allowed to cross that line. Not even Ayaan, who tried once and received a look so sharp, sliced the room's warmth for a second.
"Sensitive topic," Ayaan had muttered later with a shrug, letting it go.
Then there was Pihu. Coffee was her religion, and feminism was her second language. She once said she wouldn't date a man who didn't believe in equal chores—and meant it and her stance on everything from lipstick shades to the wage gap came with facts and unshakable opinions.
Amid all this, I simply listened at first.
It felt like watching a sitcom unfold in real life—except this wasn't scripted. This was real, messy, unfiltered friendship, full of inside jokes and incomplete stories.
And strangely, despite being the newest person in the room, no one made me feel like i didn't belong.
Their team worked with an ease that felt rare—no pressure, no hierarchy, just flow. Tasks moved like conversations, laughter mixed with edits, and feedback came with coffee, not commands. Everyone knew their role, and no one had to prove a point. It wasn't just work—it was a rhythm they moved in, together.
I simply pulled the chair I always used—between Kartik and Ayaan—and settled in, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The table was slightly cluttered—chargers, a laptop playing lo-fi music. It didn't feel like work. It felt like a little corner of their world I was slowly being invited into.
Ayaan glanced sideways, offering a small smile.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi," I replied softly.
His voice wasn't deep or theatrical. It was calm. Almost warm.
A flashback bubbled up
Not the entire memory.
Just a moment.
That moment.
The first time I had seen Ayaan.
He had stood by the entrance with Kartik, that army green t-shirt snug across his shoulders, his eyes catching hers like they'd been waiting. I remembered how my heart had stuttered when he smiled and said, "Hi, you must be Noor."
I didn't expect him to know my name.
I didn't expect my world to tilt with a single glance.
I didn't known that a stranger's voice could feel so warm.
There was something sacred about that moment—like time had slowed for just the two of us. And I didn't want to forget it. Not ever.
Coming back to the present, I realised that i spaced out
Kartik took the lead. "So Ayaan was just telling us how his U.S trip goes?"
I perked up.
"Wait," I said, turning to Ayaan. "What was the most annoying thing there that made you miss India?"
He grinned. "Delivery, hands down."
I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Not the food, not the people, not the chaos... but delivery?"
"Exactly," he said, laughing now. "Amazon delivery there is a nightmare. I once had to call the delivery guy like four times for one package. He kept delivering it when I wasn't home and then just left a note saying, 'We missed you.' I even wrote specific timings, like 'Come after 6 PM,' and he still showed up at 3."
Pihu chuckled softly. "That would drive me insane."
"It did," Ayaan said. "One time, we coordinated on text like it was a secret mission. 'Are you home?' 'Yes, come now.' 'I'm on my way.' I finally got my package, but not without emotional damage."
I laughed. "Indians really are spoiled with deliveries."
He nodded. "Exactly! We expect everything at our doorstep, within minutes. There, it felt like a part-time job just chasing your parcel."
We all laughed, the kind of laugh that builds slowly, from shared amusement to real connection.
And in that moment, my mind quietly began stitching together all the silent encounters before this day.
We didn't talk after that first smile. Not really. But we had shared glances.
Quick, stolen ones on the stairs.
Lingering ones near the water dispenser.
One time, as I walked past him while he was with Kartik, he looked at me and muttered, "Nepotism."
It wasn't cruel. Just cheeky. Mocking, in the way boys mock girls they notice.
It happened more than once.
Every time I passed by with Aliza, he'd grin and say it again—"Nepotism, nepotism."
He'd learned from Kartik that Noor had gotten in through a referral. And the fact that Aliza, the HR, was her friend only added fuel to the teasing.
It annoyed me. But it also made my heart beat faster.
Because even teasing meant he noticed me.
Back in the studio, as the laughter from the delivery conversation faded, Ayaan turned to me casually.
"So, Noor," he said, "you really did come in with the source, huh?"
My eyes narrowed, playful. "I cleared two interviews, okay?"
He raised both hands, mock innocence. "I'm just saying what the office is saying."
Kartik leaned over, grinning. "This is the start of every HR-love story, isn't it?"
Pihu giggled.
I rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
Ayaan looked at her for a second longer than necessary.
Then turned back to his laptop. It is not like he is multi-tasking but he didn't want to leave the work and the gossip either