It had been a week since Piya joined ShadowByte.
A week of nerves, late-night overthinking, and replaying every little mistake in her head. But somehow, she hadn't crashed and burned yet. In fact, thanks to Asha's quick guidance and Ram's gentle patience, Piya felt as if she was... surviving. Maybe even learning.
That morning, she and Asha squeezed into their usual cab. Asha leaned back against the seat and studied Piya's face.
"You know what I noticed?" Asha said, smirking.
"What?" Piya asked warily.
"You smile a lot more these days."
Piya blinked. "Do I?"
"Mm-hmm," Asha nodded with mock seriousness. "Especially when a certain someone is around."
Piya's heart skipped. "W-what do you mean?" she stammered, staring out the window.
"Oh, don't play innocent. The way you light up when Ram says 'Good morning'... girl, you're not even subtle."
Piya's cheeks turned crimson. "I don't—"
"If he sneezes, you'll probably faint," Asha teased, dramatically fanning her face.
Piya shoved her lightly, laughing despite herself. But inside, her thoughts betrayed her. She couldn't deny it—Ram's warm smile had a way of melting her guard.
At the office, Piya was bent over her desk, frowning at a report template when a gentle voice startled her.
"Need help?" Ram asked, leaning slightly toward her screen.
"Oh—um—I was just trying to figure out this formatting..." she said nervously, trying not to stare at him too obviously.
"Here," he said softly, pulling a chair beside her. His sleeve brushed against hers as he clicked through the document, explaining each step. His tone was calm, patient, and his smile carried no judgment—just reassurance.
"There you go," he said after a few minutes. "You've got it. Don't worry, it takes everyone some time in the beginning."
"Thank you..." Piya murmured, clutching her pen tightly so her trembling fingers wouldn't show.
"Anytime," Ram replied with that easy, heart-melting smile before heading back to his desk.
Her chest fluttered uncontrollably.
Why does my heart... feel like this?
Later that afternoon, the cafeteria buzzed with whispers.
"Did you hear? The success party is next Friday."
"Yeah, it's going to be huge. The CEO himself will attend."
"I already booked my salon appointment!"
Asha leaned toward Piya, her eyes sparkling. "Did you hear that? Our CEO, Liam Asher, is going to be there. I've never seen him in person before—people say he's like a king."
Piya tilted her head. The name felt oddly heavy, though she couldn't say why.
"And you know what that means, right?" Asha continued dramatically. "We have to look our absolute best. No excuses."
Piya blinked. "Best?"
"Yes! You think you can just wear jeans and a kurti to a ShadowByte party? Girl, this isn't your college farewell."
Piya froze, the fork in her hand slipping slightly. Her throat tightened.
"I... I don't know," she whispered.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Asha asked, frowning.
"I've never been to anything like this before. I don't even have a dress that fits such a place. Everyone will look so beautiful, and I'll just..." She trailed off, her chest tightening with panic.
Her mind spiraled—images of elegant women in gowns, dazzling smiles, expensive perfumes. And her? Just plain, invisible Piya.
Asha noticed her silence and softened. "Hey," she said gently, nudging her. "Don't overthink. We'll figure it out together, okay? We'll go shopping after work this week. You're going to look gorgeous, trust me."
Piya gave a small nod, but her heart was restless. Gorgeous? Me?
That evening, when she returned home, she sat at her window under the moonlight.
"Mr. Moon..." she whispered. "Why does happiness always come with fear for me? Why can't I just enjoy this without doubting myself?"
She hugged her knees and stared at the night sky, unaware that in another corner of the city, a man named Liam Asher sat in his office, unreadable, already preparing for the very party that made her heart tremble.
The entire office was buzzing with one word—party.
Every corridor, every desk, every lunch table echoed the same excitement. ShadowByte's success party wasn't just another company event; it was the kind of gathering that made people pull out their best designer outfits and their most polished smiles.
For Piya, however, the word "party" sounded less exciting and more... terrifying.
The office was no longer about deadlines or meetings—it was about the party.
ShadowByte's success party had taken over every conversation. Snippets floated through the corridors:
"They say even some top industrialists will attend..."
"...and the media will be covering it live. Imagine being on camera!"
"...the CEO himself will give a speech."
Every new whisper added weight to Piya's chest. The thought of standing under the same roof as business tycoons, celebrities, and the dazzlingly rich made her palms sweat.
"Piyaaa," Asha sang as they packed up their desks. "Tomorrow, we shop. No ifs, no buts."
Piya groaned. "You're making it sound like preparing for battle."
"Well, duh," Asha winked. "It is a battlefield. And trust me, darling, your weapon is going to be the right dress."
Piya groaned. "Do we really have to?"
"Yes, madam! Unless you plan to show up in your office kurti and give the CEO a heart attack."
Piya laughed nervously. "What if I just... don't go?"
Asha stopped in her tracks, staring at her like she had just suggested murdering a unicorn. "Don't go? Piya! This is the ShadowByte party. Everyone who's anyone will be there. You'll regret it forever if you skip."
Piya stayed quiet, chewing her lip. Asha nudged her. "Don't worry. I'll help you pick something. You're going to look stunning, I promise."
The boutique the next day looked like another world—glittering chandeliers, rows of shimmering gowns, and mannequins that seemed carved out of perfection. Piya froze at the entrance, overwhelmed.
"Asha," she whispered, "I don't belong here."
Asha grabbed her hand. "You belong everywhere. Now come on before I drag you."
While Asha confidently flipped through racks, holding dresses against herself like she was born to shine, Piya lingered behind, feeling smaller with every sequin that sparkled at her.
Finally, Asha shoved a soft navy-blue gown into her arms. "Try this. No excuses."
Inside the trial room, Piya pulled the dress over her head and turned toward the mirror. Her heart sank.
My shoulders look too narrow. My arms... ugh, why do they look like this? And my waist—it's not even close to perfect.
Every angle she looked at, she found a flaw. Her throat tightened, and for a moment she almost wanted to cry.
Still, when she stepped out, tugging at the fabric nervously, Asha's reaction was instant.
"Oh. My. God. Look at you!"
Piya shook her head quickly. "No, no... I look weird. It doesn't suit me."
"Stop lying," Asha scolded, spinning her toward the mirror. "That dress was made for you. Look at that glow! And wait till you see mine."
When Asha emerged in a sleek emerald-green gown, she looked radiant, confident, every bit like she belonged in that glamorous world. Piya's smile faltered.
"You look amazing," she said softly, meaning every word. But a voice inside whispered, And I'll never look like that.
That night, back home, Piya tried to hide her anxiety, but her father noticed.
"You look like you're going to an execution instead of a party," he joked, folding his newspaper.
Piya sighed. "Papa... I don't think I can do this. Everyone will look so perfect, and I'll just... embarrass myself."
He set the paper aside and grinned. "My daughter, the most beautiful girl in the world, is worried about what others think? Impossible."
"Papa..." she rolled her eyes, but her voice cracked.
He leaned closer. "Listen, even the great CEO of the biggest company—what's his name, Liam Asher?—would fall flat on his face if you walked in. That's how stunning you'll be."
Piya burst out laughing, covering her face. "You're so dramatic."
"That's because it's true," he said, patting her head. "Now stop doubting yourself. You're my little star."
Later, in the quiet of her room, Piya sat by the window.
"Mr. Moon," she whispered, gazing at the silver disc above. "Everyone's going to shine at that party. What if I fade into the background? What if no one even notices I exist?"
She hugged her knees, voice softer now. "But maybe... maybe that's better too. If no one notices me, then at least I won't make a fool of myself."
The moonlight spilled gently across her face, softening the sharp edges of her doubts. It was as though the silent listener in the sky wrapped her in wordless reassurance, reminding her she wasn't as alone as she thought.
Her reflection in the glass looked small, uncertain, but her heart carried her father's words like a fragile shield.
Still, as the party day drew closer, the anxiety only grew stronger.
And somewhere across the city, Liam Asher glanced at the invitation list one last time. For him, the party wasn't about glitter or dresses—it was about decisions. But fate was preparing its own plans, ready to intertwine two worlds that had been walking separate paths until now.