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Shobhana's POV
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I open my eyes and immediately regret everything. The sun is shining, and my phone is blaring from across the room, the alarm I'd set hours ago still buzzing in a fit of judgmental glory.
I yank my blanket off with one hand while trying to stretch for my phone with the other.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My mind is running like a hamster on a wheel, trying to process what went wrong in my flawless morning plan. How did I sleep through the alarm?
I could've sworn I set it—twice. Fuck.
I quickly scramble out of bed, grabbing the towel I'd left carelessly on the floor. I dash into the shower, praying the water will do its magic and make me feel human again.
Ten minutes later, I burst out of the bathroom, practically throwing my towel off and yanking my outfit out of the closet.
I grab my brush, my hair looking like a bird's nest, and attack it with all the fury of a woman on a mission. In the process, I somehow manage to get the strands tangled in the brush like I'm auditioning for a horror movie.
After several tries, I finally managed to get it under control, slapping on some mascara for good measure.
I snatch up my bag and keys, tossing them into the bag without even checking for anything.
Who needs their phone charger?
Not me. Who needs lip gloss? Not today. Just... run.
Thankfully, I made it to the campus just in time, and after the briefest moment of panic in the hallway, I managed to slide into the dean's office during the break to submit the photos. The dean looks over them, nodding in approval.
Thank god.
"Good work, Shobhana," he says, his voice professional. "You're on track. But... I'll need you to confirm the details for your next project."
"Uh, sure," I reply, still catching my breath.
He leans back in his chair. "It's a modelling project. You can choose a celebrity to photograph—two people, separate shoots. You can choose whomever you like. And the deadline is July 2nd."
I blink, my heart racing. Celebrities? I don't think he knows what kind of trouble I'm getting myself into. This is about to get a lot more complicated.
"Thanks, sir!" I say brightly, mentally already planning my next move.
Oh yeah, by the way, as I have completed nearly 5 internships, I don't have to write the final exam. How does that sound?
After finishing up with the dean, I head to the library to brainstorm. Sitting down at one of the quiet desks, I immediately pull out my phone.
Okay, okay... who can I get for this shoot?
Virat Anna's always up for something cool, but then there's Shubman, my boyfriend... Maybe I should ask him, too.
Oh, and I can't forget Ishan, but Kriti would literally murder me if I took his picture.
I quickly text Shubman.
to: SHUB Hey! Do you mind if I do a photo shoot of you for my college project?
By the way, all the best for tonight! 😘
I can already picture his face reading that message—smirking, probably somewhere thinking I'm the luckiest guy alive. Then, I text Virat Anna, hoping he'll be okay with this idea, too.
to: VIRAT ANNA (brother)
Hey! Do you mind if I do a photo shoot of you for my college project? Like, please! 🙏🙏🙏
VIRAT Of course, Shobi! Just text me the details when you've got them! Can't wait to help you out. 😎
I grin, my plan falling into place. Now for the fun part—deciding on styles. As I go through a mental list, I picture Shubman in a slick, urban outfit. Jeans, a sharp shirt. Maybe a blazer? His muscles filling out those clothes...
Oh, and then Virat. I can see him in something classic—maybe a tuxedo. He's got that suave charm that would turn any photo into a masterpiece.
SHUB Of course, baby! And thank you! I miss you already. 😭
SHOBI Thanks, babe! I miss you too 😭 Now go practice. 😘
He replies with a playful "Yes, Mom" before sending me another round of emojis that make me giggle.
I roll my eyes, sending back a heart emoji. My work is practically done. All I need is to finalize the locations. I'm thinking of a secluded part of the university, some old brick walls for a moody vibe, and maybe a spot near a café for a more relaxed look.
Hours later, I'm sitting on my couch, feeling completely defeated. Are they serious? I groan, staring at the scores on my phone. First, RCB loses, then Shubman's team gets knocked out of the playoffs. I'm starting to think I'm the jinx. I glance at my phone again, checking to see if Shubman has texted me back.
The phone rings.
Shit. I know who this is.
I answer it with a sigh, plopping back on the couch.
"Babe, I'm so sorry," Shubman's voice says, full of frustration. "I know you were hoping for something more... but my team—"
"Totally okay, Shubman," I reassure him, cutting him off. "Hey, at least we get to see each other soon, right?"
I hear him laugh. "I could always come to Bangalore early... What do you think?"
Oh. He's planning something.
I laugh. "I'll talk to you later, love you!"
"Love you too," he says, and then cuts the call.
I can't help but think, as I finally get back to my notes and sketches, that maybe this whole "project" thing is going to be a lot more... interesting than I thought.
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