Siya Singh
Your typical bubbly girl that spreads happiness around. She is the eldest child of the Singhs yet is the most fun loving and cheerful one. She lives in her world of fiction.
Avyansh Singhania
The crown prince. Cold and very unapproachable...
The sun was shining brightly over the Singh mansion, as a flurry of people bustled about, preparing everything.
“Di yaar! Uth bhi jao... aaj to late mat karo warna wo hamari chant chachi no. 1... pata nahi kya drama karegi," came an exasperated voice as she retouched her makeup. Aryaa Singh, as everyone knew her, was once again trying to wake her sister for what felt like the hundredth time.
(Dude! Get up already... please don’t be late today, or else our meddling aunt will cause who knows what kind of scene.)
"Ughhh!" groaned Siya, the eldest daughter of the Singh family, as she finally opened her eyes. "What’s the point, yaar? Why do we have to do all this?"
"I know, right? But we don’t have a choice. Get ready quickly, the baraat will be here any minute," Aryaa replied.
Siya nodded, dragging herself towards the bathroom. Once inside, she rested her forehead against the wall, almost dozing off before Aryaa smacked the back of her head.
"Owww! What was that for?" Siya scowled.
"Get ready, or you'll get more!" Aryaa scolded.
"Paap chadhega tujhe, apni badi behen ko maarne se..." Siya fake-cried, earning a glare from Aryaa. "Okay, okay, meri maa, I’m going."
An hour later, both sisters were dressed and descended the stairs.
Their outfits:
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"Aa gayi Maharaniyaan!" Their younger aunt, Soni, taunted them.
(Here come the queens.)
Aryaa rolled her eyes, while playful Siya giggled, saying "I’m honored that you think of us as 'queens' chachi."
Aryaa chuckled as well, while their aunt huffed angrily. "Good one! Di."
They high-fived, but before they could enjoy the moment, an annoyed voice called out to them. It was none other than their grandmother, Mrs. Shanti Singh.
They turned as she spoke. "There will be many guests today, so behave. You both might even find a potential groom. Now, go and help Shri and Pari."
Both sisters rolled their eyes for two reasons:
First, by "potential groom," their grandmother meant a walking bank account with a prestigious family name.
Second, they couldn’t stand most of their relatives, especially the brides—Shrinidhi and Pranidhi—who were carbon copies of their mother, their arch-nemesis and elder aunt, Mrs. Shilpi Singh.
Their thoughts were interrupted when they reached the bridal room.
"Chalo, ab in hur ki pariyon ke nakhre jhelte hain," Aryaa remarked sarcastically before opening the door, only to be greeted by a shocking sight.
The room was empty—no brides in sight.
"What the hell!" Aryaa cursed. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Where on earth are they?"
