Karan and Preeta's paths first crossed on the bustling campus of their prestigious college, a place teeming with the children of the elite. Karan, with his humble background, had gained admission through sheer hard work and academic excellence, while Preeta, the daughter of a wealthy businessman, had waltzed in on the coattails of her father's fortune. Despite their vastly different worlds, their lives became intertwined in an unexpected and complex relationship.
Karan first noticed Preeta in the cafeteria, where she commanded the attention of everyone around her with an effortless charm and confidence. Her designer clothes and expensive accessories marked her as someone of significance, while Karan's simple attire and worn-out shoes spoke of a more modest life. One day, as he stood in line, he overheard Preeta berating a barista for getting her coffee order wrong.
"How hard is it to make a simple iced coffee? Honestly, do I have to do everything myself?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a knife.
Karan watched, feeling a mix of admiration and unease. There was something about Preeta's dominance that fascinated him, even as it made him uncomfortable. He wanted to approach her, but he knew he would never have the courage. However, fate had other plans.
One afternoon, Karan was studying in the library when he saw Preeta struggling to find a book on the top shelf. Without thinking, he walked over and retrieved it for her.
"Here you go," he said, offering her the book.
Preeta looked at him with a mix of surprise and scrutiny. "Thanks," she said curtly, taking the book from him. As she turned to leave, she paused. "What's your name?"
"Karan," he replied, nervously adjusting his glasses.
Preeta nodded, a calculating look in her eyes. "I'm Preeta. You seem like a helpful guy. I might need someone like you around."
Karan felt a strange thrill at her words. "I'd be happy to help," he said, not fully understanding the implications.
From that day forward, Karan found himself increasingly in Preeta's orbit. She would call on him for small favors—carrying her books, fetching her coffee, running errands. What started as simple acts of kindness quickly escalated into something more complex and binding.
One sunny afternoon, Preeta decided to hold court in the college garden. She called Karan, her voice commanding and impatient. "Karan, meet me at the garden in ten minutes. And bring my favorite iced coffee from the café. Don't be late."
Karan, who had just finished his part-time job, rushed to the café to get Preeta's coffee, praying he wouldn't be late. He arrived at the garden, panting and sweating, just in time. Preeta was lounging on a bench, looking effortlessly glamorous in her designer dress and sunglasses.
"You're late," Preeta remarked coldly, even though he wasn't.
Karan bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Preeta. It won't happen again."
She took the iced coffee from him without a word of thanks and took a sip. "It's too sweet," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Go back and get another one, and this time, make sure it's right."
Karan nodded, his face red with embarrassment. "Yes, Preeta." He turned and hurried back to the café, feeling the sting of humiliation.
When he returned with the corrected coffee, Preeta was talking to some of her friends, other rich kids who looked down on Karan with disdain. She took the coffee from him and sipped it, finally nodding in approval.
"Much better," she said. "Now, kneel."
Karan's face burned, but he knelt beside the bench, knowing better than to question her in front of her friends. They laughed, enjoying the spectacle of Karan's submission.
