CHANGE

CHAPTER 1:Intiation

Hi, how are you all? Me? I am fine. I don't like my city; it's filled with garbage kind of people, people with ego as big as the gravitational pull of a black hole, and self-respect as small as quarks. They are so fake that I can recognize them with one look. I, however, believe that I am different from these kinds of people because I don't insult someone or judge them based on their appearance or their wallet.

I am a CS-degree graduate with exceptional skills in computers. But, you see, I'm not exactly the life of the party. My name? Well, that's a detail I'll reveal when the time is right.

I work as an SDE 2 at Drown Corp Limited, a tech giant nestled in the heart of the city. The office is a bustling hive of activity, with programmers hunched over their computers, their fingers dancing across the keyboards in a symphony of code. The walls are adorned with motivational posters, urging us to "think outside the box" and "reach for the stars." But for me, the real stars are the lines of code that I write, each one a masterpiece in its own right.

It's a place of mandatory interactions, where my colleagues occasionally ask, "Hey, Dev, what have you been up to?" They might notice the dark circles around my eyes, but my response is always weirdly good. Small talk isn't my forte, you see. I'd rather let my code do the talking.

One particular afternoon, as I sit at my desk, buried beneath a mountain of code, my colleague, Alex, leans over to me.

Alex: Hey, Dev, got a minute?

I glance up from my screen, slightly startled by the interruption.

Dev: Um, yeah, what's up?

Alex: Just wanted to see if you're up for grabbing lunch later. You've been buried in your code all day.

Dev: Oh, thanks, Alex. I appreciate the offer, but I'm swamped right now. Maybe another time.

Alex nods understandingly and returns to his own work. Despite my introverted nature, I appreciate his attempt at reaching out.

In the midst of the fluorescent-lit chaos, I find solace in my work. Lines of code flow from my fingertips like poetry, each one a carefully crafted masterpiece. I lose myself in the rhythm of programming, the outside world fading into obscurity as I immerse myself in my digital domain.

After a long day at the office, I return to my apartment. It's a modest place with three rooms. Mine is number 103, meticulously organized. A computer, a pet cat, and a bed—these are the essentials. There's no special decoration, just all the techy stuff I need to keep me company. Oh, and a sofa, where I sit now, smoking and contemplating.

I've always had grand ideas, you know. Dreams of creating a website like Facebook or building an app that could change the world. But for now, I'm content with my quiet corner of the world.

As the smoke curls lazily around me, I'm interrupted by the doorbell. Who could that be? I glance through the peephole and see a girl standing outside. She has black hair and looks decent enough. She's saying something, but I can't quite make out the words.

I open the door cautiously. "Hey, is there someone here?" she asks.

"Um, yeah," I reply awkwardly. "I'm Dev."

"Hey, Dev," she says with a warm smile. "I'm Jasmine."

She explains that she's new to the neighborhood and could use a little help moving in. I'm surprised by her openness. Girls aren't usually this talkative and approachable—at least, not in my experience. But I'm not one to turn down a request for assistance.

"Sure," I say, trying to keep it casual.

We spend the next hour or so carrying boxes and furniture up to her apartment. Jasmine chatters away the whole time, and I find myself strangely drawn to her easygoing nature.

Jasmine: Thanks so much for helping me, Dev. I really appreciate it.

Dev: No problem, Jasmine. Just let me know if you need anything else.

Jasmine: Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to grab a coffee sometime. You seem like an interesting person to talk to.

Dev: Um, sure, I guess that would be nice.

I'm taken aback by her forwardness. It's not often that someone reaches out to me like this. But there's something about Jasmine that intrigues me, something I can't quite put my finger on.

Once everything is unpacked, I bid her goodnight and retreat to my own sanctuary. Alone again, I sink into the familiar comfort of my room and let sleep claim me.

Tomorrow is another day, filled with lines of code and quiet contemplation. But for now, I'll savor the unexpected encounter with the girl next door. Who knows? Maybe this is the beginning of something new.