𝙏𝙖𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙪𝙡 𝙈𝙤𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙖𝙩 ✧

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 ~ 01 ᯓᡣ𐭩

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The sky had turned a deep shade of indigo, with city lights casting a gentle glow over the streets of Mumbai. From her office on the top floor, Zeenath Qureshi could see the skyline stretching far into the distance, bustling with life even at this late hour. Inside her minimalist, chic office, the world was different—quiet, ordered, and meticulous, just as she liked it.

Zeenath glanced up from her laptop briefly, admiring the quiet beauty of the city she loved but never had much time to enjoy. Her life was a whirlwind, yet within these walls, she found a sense of calm, even if it was fleeting. She leaned back in her chair, fingers tapping on the smooth, dark wood of her desk. This workspace was her sanctuary, filled with calming, neutral tones and elegant touches—a reflection of her brand, Qure Essence. Every element here reminded her of her hard work and dedication.

“Aapke liye aur kuch, Ms. Qureshi?” Sara Malik, her assistant, interrupted her thoughts, peeking in. It was a rare thing for Sara to check in twice, especially at this hour. Zeenath glanced at her clock—almost 9:00 p.m. Another late night.
(Something else for you , Miss Qureshi?)

“No, Sara. Tum jao, aur safe drive se ghar pahunchna,” she replied, her tone brisk but soft. With her work face on, Zeenath could come across as cold and distant, and tonight was no different.
(You go and reach home with a safe drive.)

Sara nodded and lingered a moment, clearly hesitant. “Ma’am, bas ek chhoti si baat…yeh launch ke liye aap kuch zyada hi stress le rahi hain shayad.”
(Ma'am just one small thing I wanted to say....you are taking too much stress for this launch,maybe.)

Zeenath’s gaze softened briefly as she looked at Sara, who had been with her from the beginning. If anyone knew her better at work, it was Sara.

“I’m fine, Sara. Tum jao. Bas kuch aur changes review karne hain. This launch has to be flawless.”
( You go. Just some more changes to be reviewed.)

With a final nod, Sara left, closing the door softly behind her.Zeenath let out a slow breath, her focus shifting back to her screen. This new product line wasn’t just another launch for her; it was personal. She was constantly pushing herself, setting new standards in the beauty industry. Her drive came from somewhere deep inside—a need to prove herself, to show the world, and perhaps even herself, that she was in control.

But control wasn’t something Zeenath always had.

At the thought, a shadow crossed her face. Memories—ones she tried to bury deep down—surfaced briefly. It was in moments like these, when she was alone, that her mind would betray her, reminding her of the past she fought so hard to forget. It had been years, yet the pain and trauma lingered like an unwanted guest. She pushed those thoughts aside, swallowing hard.

“Not tonight,” she whispered to herself, her tone a mix of determination and exhaustion.

Late nights had become routine for her. Insomnia was a silent companion, one she didn’t discuss with anyone but carried with her like a scar. Most nights, she would be haunted by nightmares or simply lie awake, her mind replaying memories she wanted nothing more than to erase. Her fingers drifted to the small, inconspicuous drawer on her desk. Inside lay her prescription sleeping pills, her only way to rest some nights.

By the time she finished her work , it was almost midnight. Her phone vibrated with a message. She glanced at it, and a smile formed when she saw it was from her mother, Farah Qureshi. She opened the message: “Beta, tumhare abba aur main tumhare bina yahan bohot udaas hain. Itna kaam bhi achha nahi. Take care of yourself.”
(Dear, Me and you dad are very sad without you. This much work isn't nice as well.)