Priya was many things.

She was an amazing chef (obviously as she owns one of the best restaurants in CP), a great listener, a good friend ("I'd beg to disagree." "Shut up, squirt."), an animal lover (she almost died saving a pup from the traffic the other day, only to have it run away while she was busy scolding the offending driver) and most of all, she was a good person at heart. ("Eh, maybe, whatever." "Seriously, shut it squirt.")

Priya was many things and she was almost happy with that.

But the one thing Priya desperately wanted to be, sadly, was not granted to her by whichever heavenly power it was that made her.

Being not clumsy, that is.

"I am so sorry. I didn't see where I was going!" She apologized profusely to the lady she had the displeasure of dropping an entire bowl of dal makhani on. The lady at least, to her credit, wasn't listing off all the ways she could sue Priya's restaurant for committing this horrendous crime.

Priya could distantly hear the sound of her best friend laughing at her misery. She was about to turn to him, to maybe give him an earful or two, when another presence made itself known beside her, one that made her blood run cold with the possible humiliation that would (surely) follow.

"Ah, beta, you've always been so clumsy, haven't you? Always dropping and breaking things here and there." Her mother started, now turning to address the suffering woman.

"You know, didi, she once broke a twenty-thousand-rupee antique vase. You'd think she'd been playing or something, but no! She was just walking, and she accidently broke it. My husband and I think she did it on purpose, though. It was her brother's favorite, you see. And you know how siblings are these days―"

"Aunty, it would be good if Priya takes the lady to the restroom to help clean her dress and make sure no stains remain, don't you think so?" Luckily Dhruv interrupted Ms. Meena from spewing more shit about Priya and her family relationships.

Her mother was clearly displeased at being interrupted, but seeing Dhruv instantly made her forget that. He escorted her back to her table, successfully breaking the tension that had formed in the entire restaurant.

Priya cast a grateful look at him, mentally noting to thank him properly later, and waved for a waiter to clear the mess she had made.

She was weaving through the tables with the lady in tow to get to the washrooms on the side, when she heard the bell on the door chime and Dhruv's surprised gasp. But before she could think much of it, they had reached the washroom, so Priya left Dhruv to deal with whatever had managed to elicit such response from him.

***

"It's not coming off! Why is it not coming off?" Priya exclaimed from where she was perched on the top of the sink in the washroom. The woman who had suffered (and whose name Priya learnt was Anagha), had already left claiming she had some important work. So, Priya had given her one of her spare dresses from her office.

And now she was stuck with getting the stain off of the very expensive sundress she had ruined, to return it to woman later in the evening.

She had tried almost everything she could think of, which wasn't a lot because she couldn't exactly go back out yet to collect the necessary supplies, for the fear of confronting her mother again. So really, she had been trying to wash it with just soap and water and so far, she wasn't succeeding.

"I think you might want to use some lemon and haldi for that." A vaguely familiar voice resounded in the washroom, though Priya couldn't pinpoint exactly where she had heard it. It was pleasant to hear, though and Priya could feel some of her frustration ebb away.

But still, she felt vaguely insulted because of course she knew lemon and haldi would help (she had been cooking since she was five and given her klutz nature, she had had many unfortunate accidents). She didn't need a stranger to mock her for that. (She was overreacting, but she was also having the worst day so far, so sue her for acting like a brat.)

She grunted a noncommittal sound without looking up in the mirror to see who she was talking to.

"Yeah well, it's not exactly safe for me to go out and get some, Miss Know-it-all." She was being petty and she loved it. It was a welcomed distraction.

The stranger with the sweet-but-vaguely-familiar voice didn't say anything for a while and Priya thought they had left until she heard them say, "And may I ask why, Miss I-am-hiding-in-the-washroom-of-my-own-restaurant?", voice dripping with sarcasm.

Priya let out a frustrated (and undignified) snort at that. It was just now occurring to her what a real shitty day she had had so far. And she'd be damned if she let a stranger (with the sweet-but-vaguely-familiar voice) run over her for just wanting to hide from Ms. Meena.

But they don't know that, a voice whispered in her mind that she pointedly ignored.

She hopped off the sink and turned to face the stranger (with the swee- yeah, you get it) to give them a piece of mind (and also maybe apologize, though let's not go overboard just yet).

But all the words got stuck in her throat when she came face to face with the offending (not really) stranger, and Priya again hated the heavenly power that made her because damn could she also not have a shitty memory?

Because she had (somehow) failed to recognize the (now familiar) sweet voice of the girl of her dreams and was now in front of the famous blogger and her favorite person in the world ("You don't even know her, pickle."), Ruhi Ahuja.

A vaguely pissed Ruhi Ahuja.

*crawls out of her secret lair* DON'T HIT ME!! I CAN EXPLAIN!!!! And don't you dare say you don't like chaotic first meets!!! I hate liars!! 🔪🔪 Anygays, stay tuned for six! You're gonna like it ik!! 

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