I have exactly three priorities in life.

Passing MBBS without crying in the washroom.

Coffee strong enough to revive a dead patient.

And…Nishit.

My boyfriend.

Yeah. Mine.

(Still can’t believe that sometimes.)

The order changes depending on how badly exams are attacking me, but today? It is gonna get worse.

(P.S. Nishit is permanently at number one.)

Delhi is being unnecessarily dramatic again.

The sun is literally out here behaving like it owns the sky, and I’m this close to filing a legal complaint against it. I walk into college half-dead, white coat wrinkled, hair in a messy bun that screams “I gave up but I tried”, and coffee in my hand like it’s oxygen.

“Listen,” I say, taking a sip, “if I fail anatomy, I’m suing the human body.”

Riya nearly chokes. “Sue your brain first. It stopped working in first year.”

I gasp. “Excuse me, my brain works perfectly fine.”

“Yeah?” she raises an eyebrow. “Then why did you write ‘femur is emotionally strong bone’?”

I pause.

“…Because it is.”

She just stares at me. “I need a new best friend.”

---

We’re walking through the corridor when I see him.

No dramatic slow turn today.

No hesitation.

Just… instinct.

Because when you love someone, you don’t search for them.

You just… find them.

Nishit.

Leaning against the wall, talking to his friends, looking effortlessly perfect like always. That stupid half-smile that still makes my heart trip over itself like it’s running late.

Riya sighs. “Oh look. The reason your academic downfall is confirmed.”

“Shut up,” I mumble, already fixing my hair.

“You don’t even need to ask…you look decent for once.”

“Wow,” I glare. “Supportive queen.”

---

I walk up to him, trying to act normal.

Failing, obviously.

He looks up—

And his entire expression softens.

That’s the thing about him.

He doesn’t just look at me.

He sees me.

“Hey,” he says, smiling.

And God.

I don’t care how many times I hear that.

It still does something to me.

“Hey,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

He steps closer. “You look tired.”

“Wow, thank you,” I deadpan. “That’s exactly what a girl wants to hear.”

He laughs softly, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I mean it,” he says. “You need sleep.”

I roll my eyes. “I need a new life. Preferably without exams.”

He smirks. “Can’t help with that. But I can get you coffee.”

“I already have one.”

“Then I’ll get you another.”

“Now that,” I nod seriously, “is boyfriend material.”

He grins. “Good thing I already am.”

We walk together, talking about random thing...his classes, my never-ending syllabus, Riya third-wheeling and giving us commentary like a live audience.

Everything feels… normal.

Easy.

Safe.

Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

And then—

My phone rings.

I groan. “If this is another spam call, I’m throwing my phone.”

I check.

Bhai Calling.

My smile fades a little.

“Give me a sec,” I tell Nishit, stepping aside.

I pick up. “What happened?”

“Shivika,” my brother’s voice is serious.

Instantly, my chest tightens.

“What? Is everything okay?”

“Pack your bags.”

“…What?”

“You need to come to Home. Today. Dad's Order.”

I blink. “What do you mean today? I have college, I have exam today and—”

“Flight is booked. You have to board at night. It won't affect your today's exam.”

My brain literally crashes.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’ve sent the ticket. Don’t argue, just come.”

I start pacing. “At least tell me WHY?!”

Silence.

And I hate that silence.

“Something important has come up,” he says finally. “You need to be here.”

“Bhai—”

“Shivika.”

That tone.

The one that shuts everything down.

My fingers tighten around the phone. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes,” he says quickly. “Everyone’s fine. Just come home.”

The call ends.

---

For a moment, I just stand there.

Everything feels… off.

Like someone just pressed pause on my life.

---

“Hey,” Nishit’s voice pulls me back. “What happened?”

I look at him.

And suddenly, it hits me.

I’m leaving.

“Bhai called,” I say quietly. “I have to go to Bangalore.”

His expression changes. “Now?”

I nod. “Flight’s in a few hours.”

There’s a pause.

A heavy one.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“I… don’t know,” I admit.

And I hate that.

I hate not knowing.

---

Riya walks up. “This is insane. Who books a flight like this?!”

“My family,” I mutter.

Nishit looks at me, softer now. “When are you coming back?”

That question.

It hits harder than anything.

“I don’t know.”

Silence.

---

He exhales slowly, then steps closer.

“Call me when you land,” he says.

“I will.”

“And text me before the flight.”

“I will.”

“And—”

I smile weakly. “I’ll miss you too, idiot.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, but his eyes don’t.

“I’m serious, Shivu.”

“I know.”

And in that moment—

Standing in a crowded college corridor—

Everything feels too real.

Too sudden.

Too unfinished.

Because just when life feels stable…

It shifts.

No warning.

No explanation.

No permission.

☆☆After Some Moments.☆☆

I had always believed hunger was a manageable emotion.

Like stress.

Like exam anxiety.

Like the sudden urge to re-evaluate your entire life at 2 AM.

But this?

This was not hunger.

This was betrayal.

I was not prepared for hunger to turn me into a criminal.

That’s the only honest explanation I have for what happened next.

Because I, Shivika—final-year MBBS student, responsible (sometimes), mildly functional human being (rarely)—was currently standing inside a random wedding like I belonged there… while actively lying about an entire engagement with a stranger.

And the worst part?

My stomach was still growling.

Like it had no respect for consequences.

---

It had started in the hostel room.

My suitcase was open on the bed like a crime scene.

Half my clothes were packed for the college fest back in my city—soft pastel outfits, one nice kurti, comfortable jeans, and a dupatta I had absolutely no idea how to manage but still packed anyway because “maybe I’ll feel pretty.”

That was the plan.

Simple.

Normal.

But then hunger entered the chat.

Not regular hunger.

Not “I’ll eat Maggi and survive” hunger.

This was “hostel mess food has emotionally damaged me” hunger.

My best friend had been watching me spiral for the last twenty minutes.

“You’re going to miss your flight,” she repeated, calmer than a therapist.

I wish I miss my flight.

“I won’t,” I said confidently, while forgetting where I kept my charger for the third time.

She sighed. “You’re still packing.”

“I’m not packing. I’m… re-evaluating my life choices while constantly searching for my stuff.”

“That’s also packing.”

I ignored her and suddenly froze mid-fold.

“I’m hungry.”

She didn’t even look up. “Obviously.”

“No, this is different.”

“What kind of different?”

“This is pre-flight existential hunger.”

She finally looked at me. “That’s not a medical condition.”

“It is now.”

---

And that’s how we ended up outside.

Somehow. Planning to go to a cafè or some hotel.

I still don’t remember deciding it. It felt like my stomach signed a contract and my legs followed instructions.

We just needed food.

Something quick.

Something normal.

Something legal.

But life, unfortunately, has a sense of humour.

Because twenty minutes later, we saw it.

A wedding.

Not a small one.

A full cinematic, flower-covered, music-blasting, gold-lit wedding.

And the smell…

Oh God.

The smell of fried snacks, sweets, spices, and pure emotional stability hit me like oxygen after drowning.

I stopped walking.

My soul physically paused.

My best friend grabbed my wrist instantly. “No.”

I turned slowly.

“Yes.”

“We are NOT going in.”

“We are starving students. This is basically survival.”

“That is still not allowed.”

I stepped forward anyway.

Because at that point, morality was losing to samosas.

---

Inside, everything was louder.

Music echoing. People laughing. Colour everywhere.

And food.

So much food.

Buffet counters lined up like heaven’s entry gate.

My stomach made a sound so emotional I almost felt bad for it.

“I think I’ve been chosen,” I whispered.

My friend hissed, “You’ve been chosen to get caught.”

“Whatever”

We moved carefully, trying to look like we belonged.

And honestly?

That was easy.

Because I was wearing my college fest outfit.

A soft pastel kurti with delicate white embroidery, paired with simple pants.

It was something I had packed thinking I’d wear it casually during fest events.

It looked innocent.

Respectable.

Harmless.

And for a moment, I actually thought—okay, maybe I can pass as a guest.

Until I saw a Guy.

He was standing slightly away from the crowd.

Not involved in the chaos.

Just… there.

Tall.

Calm.

Wearing a light-toned kurta that matched the entire aesthetic of the wedding so perfectly it almost felt intentional.

And for a split second, I just stared.

Not romantically.

Not dramatically.

Just… confused.

Because it looked like someone had coordinated us.

Like I had accidentally matched outfits with a stranger at a wedding I was illegally attending that too just for food...

“No,” I whispered. “Focus. Food first.”

---

We reached the buffet area.

I could SEE it now.

Samosas. Paneer. Rice. Desserts.

My life was literally one plate away from healing.

I reached forward—

“Excuse me?”

I froze.

That voice cut through everything.

Sharp. Authoritative.

A woman stood in front of me, dressed like she was in charge of the entire universe.

Her eyes scanned me slowly.

Not friendly.

Not welcoming.

Suspicious.

“Umm...Who are you?” she asked.

My brain blanked.

My friend subtly stepped back.

TRAITOR.

I smiled instantly. Too fast. Too fake.

“Umm...Hi,” I said.

She didn’t smile back.

Bad sign.

My stomach growled loudly again like it wanted to ruin me personally.

Even louder this time.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

Think, Shivika. Think.

And then my eyes landed on him again.

The guy in the matching outfit.

Still standing there.

Still completely unaware of my downfall.

Still my only exit strategy.

So I did it.

I pointed.

Straight at him.

With full confidence I did NOT actually possess.

“I am with him,” I said.

---

Silence.

The world paused like someone had pressed mute on reality.

The woman blinked. “With… him?”

I nodded quickly. “Yes. I am his fianceé.”

That sentence left my mouth like it had its own permission.

Like I wasn’t even involved in the decision anymore.

The guy turned.

(WHY DO I TALK SO LOUDLY!?!)

Slowly.

Very slowly.

Like his brain had to restart to process what just happened.

His eyes landed on my finger.

Then me.

Then the crime scene I had created.

“Ye Kab Hua?” he said.

(Translation: When did this happened?)

That was it.

That was my contribution to humanity.

☆☆☆☆☆

Who is this not so RANDOM... RANDOM GUYY??