🎭 Character Designs

Protagonist A – Naina Kapoor

Age: 22

Job: Lifestyle content creator (Instagram & YouTube)

Traits: witty, ambitious, a little clumsy under pressure

Flaw: Obsessed with curating a “perfect” online image, struggles to relax & just live

Comedy role: often gets into embarrassing viral situations (mic accidentally left on during a livestream, tripping onstage, etc.)

Protagonist B – Aarav Mehta

Age: 28

Job: Software developer, co-founder of a new dating app

Traits: sarcastic humor, intelligent, grounded

Flaw: Avoids serious commitment, too logical at times

Comedy role: dry one-liners during chaotic situations, contrast to her bubbly energy

Supporting Characters

Riya (Naina’s bestie): overly dramatic, always giving bad but funny dating advice.

Kabir (Aarav’s cousin): wannabe playboy, constantly interfering, comic relief.

Naina’s Mom: sends her daily marriage proposals via WhatsApp, making her life chaotic.

...📖 Chapter 1 – The Worst Date Ever...

Naina Kapoor hated waiting.

Waiting for Uber drivers who claimed they were “two minutes away” but hadn’t even started moving. Waiting for YouTube videos to upload on her glacial Wi-Fi. And especially waiting for first dates from apps where the guy’s profile picture looked suspiciously like it had been taken in 2017.

She tapped her phone screen again, pretending to check the time though she already knew: seven minutes late. In dating-app time, that wasn’t “running behind.” That was “he saw my Instagram without filters and bolted.”

“Relax,” she whispered to herself, adjusting the strap of her pastel blazer. “He’ll be here. Maybe he’s just… parking. Or lost. Or abducted by aliens. Honestly, aliens would be better than being stood up.”

Just as she typed out a furious ‘forget it’ text to her best friend Riya, someone bumped into her chair hard enough to make her water glass wobble.

“Sorry—sorry,” a voice said.

She turned. Tall. Messy black hair. A black T-shirt that looked like it had been chosen for its zero effort. He was holding not one but two takeaway coffees like a man failing at a circus act.

“You’re… Naina?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re Aarav? Wow.” She couldn’t stop herself. “You look… different.”

He set the cups down with a smirk that was just this side of arrogant. “Different from my profile?”

“Different from the guy I imagined would actually show up on time.”

“Ouch.” He slid into the chair across from her, entirely too calm for someone with a coffee stain on his sleeve. “In my defense, the barista was moving slower than dial-up internet.”

Naina blinked. “Dial-up? You mean like the sound my mom’s landline used to make?”

He grinned. “Exactly. The screech of a dying robot. Glad you get it.”

Naina Kapoor had been on enough first dates to know the signs of a bad one:

The guy showed up late.

He wore sunglasses indoors.

He said “I don’t believe in labels” within the first five minutes.

By those standards, Aarav Mehta wasn’t the worst she’d met. He was punctual. Dressed decently. Didn’t talk about “manifesting crypto wealth.”

But as she sat across from him in the crowded café, sipping an iced latte, she knew this wasn’t going well.

“So,” she began, flashing her practiced influencer smile, “what do you do for fun?”

Aarav looked at her like she’d asked him to define string theory. “Fun?”

“Yes, you know. Movies, books, travel, hobbies…” She twirled her straw. “Anything that makes life interesting.”

He sipped his black coffee. Black. No sugar, no cream. “I… work.”

Naina blinked. “That’s… it?”

“I’m building something,” he said simply, shrugging. “A startup. It takes all my time.”

“Wow.” She forced enthusiasm. “That’s… ambitious.”

“It’s necessary,” he corrected. “If you want to make it in tech, you can’t waste hours on things that don’t matter.”

She stared at him, offended on behalf of her nail polish collection, her skincare shelf, and her YouTube “What’s in My Bag?” videos. “Excuse me, but fun does matter.”

“Not really.” He looked completely serious. “Discipline matters. Metrics matter. Fun… distracts you.”

Naina put her latte down. “Well, thank you for explaining life to me, Spreadsheet Boy.”

“Spreadsheet Boy?” His brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head. “You look like the type who flirts by sharing Excel formulas.”

Aarav’s lips twitched—almost a smile. But instead of laughing, he said, “At least formulas make sense. Unlike pretending iced coffee is a personality trait.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse you?”

And that’s when it happened. She gestured so sharply that her straw flicked out of the cup, sending a splash of cold latte straight across the table—right onto Aarav’s pristine white shirt.

Time froze.

“Oh. My. God.” Naina grabbed napkins, reaching across the table. “I’m so sorry!”

He sat back, staring at the spreading stain. “…This is exactly why I avoid fun.”

She froze, napkin in hand. Then, something in her snapped. Instead of apologizing again, she dropped the napkin and said, “You know what? Maybe fun avoids you too.”

The couple at the next table snorted into their cappuccinos. The barista whispered, “Yikes.”

Aarav stood, pulling his blazer tight over the coffee mark. “This was a mistake.”

“Finally, something we agree on,” Naina shot back.

They marched out of the café in opposite directions, both muttering about the universe’s terrible sense of humor.

A single thought echoing in their mind:

"Worst date ever"

...📖 Chapter 2 – Ranting Rights...

Later that night

Naina shoved her way into Riya’s apartment, dropped her handbag onto the couch like it had personally offended her, and flopped down dramatically.

Riya, sprawled(to sit or lie with your arms and legs spread out in an untidy way) on the floor in pajama shorts and a messy bun, didn’t even look up from painting her toenails. “That bad?”

Naina groaned. “Bad is when the coffee’s cold. Bad is when the waiter forgets your order. This—” she sat up, gesturing wildly—“this was a full-blown catastrophe disguised as a date.”

"He thinks iced coffee isn't a personality? Excuse me, I built a brand on that! And he called me... fake!"

Riya grinned. “Oh no. Tell me everything. I want visuals. I want trauma. I want to know everything that happened there .”

“Fine.” Naina held up her fingers like a checklist. “One: he was late. Seven whole minutes. Two: he looked at me like I was a catfish. Three: he ordered black coffee, no sugar. Who does that? A psychopath, that’s who.”

Riya snorted. “Or… a guy who doesn’t want diabetes.”

"Haha nice joke" naina said it with a annoyed face.

“Four,” Naina continued, ignoring her, “he spent ten minutes explaining coding. Coding, Riya! Do I look like someone who dreams in binary?”

Her best friend dissolved into laughter. “So he’s smart. That’s a crime now?”

“Five: I tripped. On nothing. And spilled my latte on his shirt. He just stared at me like I was a toddler with jam hands.”

Riya clutched her stomach. “Stop, my abs can’t take this.”

Naina collapsed back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Dating apps are a scam. I’m deleting them. I’d rather marry my ring light.”

...........

At the same time across town, Aarav slouched on his beanbag, tossing popcorn into his mouth while Kabir sprawled on the gaming chair, laughing way too loudly.

“So let me get this straight,” Kabir said, barely holding back his chuckles. “You met a pretty girl, she spilled coffee on you, and your first thought was huh, she doesn’t understand algorithms?”

“It’s not my fault she asked what I do,” Aarav muttered defensively. “What was I supposed to say? ‘I make magic apps with fairy dust’?”

“Yes!” Kabir threw a popcorn kernel at him. “Anything except lecture her on data encryption. Bro, you’ve got negative game.”

Aarav scowled, but the memory of Naina’s eye-roll made him smirk despite himself. “She was… annoying.”

“Annoying-hot?” Kabir waggled his eyebrows.

“Annoying-annoying.” Aarav tossed popcorn back at him. “And I’m never seeing her again.”

Aarav typed into his Notes app: Never again. Influencers \= chaos.

Both of them, in two different corners of the city, declared at the exact same time:

“Never again.”

Both went to bed swearing they'd never see each other again.

The universe, of course, had other plans for them

...📖 Chapter 3 – Awkward Run-In #1...

The universe had a twisted sense of humor.

That was the only explanation Naina could come up with as she balanced her oversized tote bag on one shoulder and sprinted down the metro station stairs. She was late—again—and the train was about to leave.

“Hold the door!” she shouted, her flats slapping against the concrete.

The sliding doors dinged a warning. A kind stranger shoved a hand between them to stall, and Naina flung herself inside just as the train lurched forward. Victory.

Except her tote bag had other plans. With a dramatic clatter, it hit the floor and spilled half its contents—lipsticks rolling like confetti across the crowded aisle.

Naina groaned, crouching to gather them before a kid tried using one as a crayon.

A hand appeared in front of her. Holding one of her lipsticks.

She looked up, ready to say thanks—then froze.

Of course.

Aarav Mehta, in all his smirking glory, leaned casually against the pole like fate had hired him as her personal tormentor.

“Ten shades of red,” he said, holding up the lipstick tube. “Are you planning a home renovation or just an identity crisis?”

Naina snatched it back, cheeks heating. “They’re different shades. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand.” His lips twitched. “Each one says: ‘Please notice me but don’t ask my real age.’”

She gasped. “You’re impossible.”

“True.” He shifted to make room as more commuters pushed in. The crowd forced them closer, shoulder to shoulder.

Naina clutched her bag tighter. “Don’t tell me you take this train every day.”

“Why? You planning your future routes around avoiding me?”

“Yes!”

A woman nearby snorted. An uncle on the other side of the aisle looked at them with blatant curiosity. “Newlyweds?” he asked, in Hindi.

Naina’s eyes went wide. “What? No! We’re not—”

“Yes,” Aarav cut in smoothly, deadpan. “Honeymoon phase. She’s still deciding which lipstick matches my aura.”

The uncle chuckled, nodding approvingly. “Good match.”

Naina elbowed Aarav sharply in the ribs. He winced but grinned at her expression—half mortification, half fury.

When the train finally screeched to a halt, Naina darted out with a muttered, “Goodbye, forever.”

Behind her, Aarav called out just loud enough for her to hear:

“See you tomorrow, Mrs. Honeymoon!”

She didn’t look back, but the traitorous curve of her lips gave her away.

... Awkward Run-In #2...

Naina had promised herself two things before walking into Tanya’s birthday party:

She would not check her phone every five minutes for her mom’s latest “eligible boy” WhatsApp forwards.

She would absolutely, under no circumstances, think about that disastrous coffee date ever again.

She was halfway through a glass of mango mojito when the doorbell rang and Tanya squealed, “Finally, he’s here!”

Naina didn’t pay attention—until Tanya came back dragging someone in by the wrist.

Her mojito nearly sloshed onto the carpet.

Aarav Mehta.

Of course.

He looked just as startled to see her, but unlike Naina, he recovered instantly, flashing his annoyingly calm smile.

“Well,” he said, grabbing a soda. “If it isn’t Mrs. Honeymoon.”

Naina choked on her drink. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Tanya’s eyes sparkled as she glanced between them. “Wait… you two know each other?”

Before Naina could answer, Aarav said, “We’ve… met.”

“Met?” Tanya squealed. “You mean dated?”

Both of them shouted “NO!” in unison, which only made everyone nearby turn and laugh.

“Sure, sure,” someone teased. “Classic denial.”

Naina’s cheeks burned. She ducked into the snack table, pretending to study chips like they held the secrets of the universe. Aarav followed, clearly enjoying himself.

“So,” he murmured, reaching for the same nacho bowl she was holding. Their fingers brushed. “Should we tell them the truth?”

“That you’re insufferable?” she snapped.

“That you spilled coffee on me like some avant-garde performance art,” he countered.

Her glare could’ve melted steel.

Unfortunately for her, Tanya had already roped them into a game of charades.

“Couples versus couples!” she announced cheerfully. “And you two—perfect team.”

Naina opened her mouth to protest, but the crowd cheered too loudly. Aarav, traitor that he was, just smirked and gestured for her to join him.

The first word was “Titanic.” Aarav immediately spread his arms wide and pretended to be on a ship deck.

Naina, rolling her eyes, muttered, “If you think I’m standing in front of you and saying ‘I’m flying, Jack,’ you’re delusional.”

The group howled with laughter anyway. Someone yelled, “Cutest Rose and Jack ever!”

By the end of the round, they’d won. Against her will, Naina felt her lips twitching as Aarav bowed dramatically like he’d just received an Oscar.

“Admit it,” he said under his breath. “We make a good team.”

Naina sipped her drink and sniffed. “Don’t get used to it.”

But later, when Tanya leaned over and whispered, “You guys are adorable together,” Naina couldn’t quite muster the energy to deny it.