At twenty-three, Jaya Menon was still finding her footing in the whirlwind of her new life. Fresh from college, she had landed a job as a junior copywriter at a vibrant advertising agency in Bangalore, where days blurred into a frenzy of deadlines, brainstorming sessions, and endless cups of coffee. Her world was a mosaic of firsts—her first paycheck, her first shoebox apartment, her first taste of independence in a city that pulsed with possibility. Beneath her bright smile and sharp wit, Jaya carried a quiet curiosity, a yearning to discover where her heart might lead in this sprawling urban jungle.
It was a sultry Saturday evening in May 2025, the air heavy with the promise of monsoon rains, when Jaya found herself on a rooftop in Indiranagar. The party was for Arjun, the boyfriend of her college friend Priya, who was celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday with infectious enthusiasm. Priya had begged Jaya to come, promising a night of laughter and a break from the grind of their corporate lives. Jaya, in a sleek black dress that hugged her frame and a pair of silver hoop earrings that caught the light, felt a spark of excitement as she stepped onto the rooftop, the Bangalore skyline twinkling below like a canvas of stars.
The terrace buzzed with life—laughter, the clink of glasses, the sizzle of grilled paneer filling the air with savory warmth. Fairy lights were draped across the space, casting a golden glow over the crowd of friends, coworkers, and strangers mingling under the open sky. Jaya sipped her lime soda, her eyes scanning the vibrant scene, when she saw him.
He stood near the railing, silhouetted against the city lights, a beer bottle held loosely in his hand. Prashanth, she'd later learn, was in his thirties, with a presence that commanded attention without effort. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his jawline sharp beneath a hint of stubble, and his charcoal shirt was unbuttoned just enough to suggest the lean strength beneath. But it was his eyes—deep, warm, catching the light as he laughed with a friend—that stopped her breath. He moved with an effortless confidence, a man at ease in his own skin, and Jaya felt a jolt of attraction, sharp and unbidden, flare in her chest.
She looked away, her cheeks flushing, and fussed with the strap of her sandal, silently chiding herself. Calm down, Jaya. You're here for Arjun's birthday, not to gawk at strangers. But when she glanced up, his eyes met hers across the crowd, a fleeting connection that sent her heart racing. His gaze held a spark of curiosity, a half-smile tugging at his lips, and for a moment, the party's noise faded, leaving only the thrum of her pulse.
Priya bounded over, her energy a whirlwind as she handed Jaya a plate of samosas. "Having fun?" she asked, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Or are you just standing here looking like you stepped out of a fashion ad?"
Jaya laughed, grateful for the distraction. "Just soaking it in," she said, biting into a samosa, the spicy filling grounding her. "This place is incredible. Arjun's living it up, isn't he?"
Priya grinned, glancing at her boyfriend, who was now being serenaded by a group of friends near a towering chocolate cake. "He's in his element. Come on, let's dive into the madness."
Jaya followed, weaving through the crowd, but her thoughts kept drifting to the man by the railing. She stole another glance, only to find him watching her again, his smile warmer now, a flicker of interest in his eyes. Her heart did a little somersault, and she forced herself to focus on Priya, who was pulling her toward the cake-cutting.
As the crowd belted out a chaotic "Happy Birthday," Jaya stood at the edge, clapping along, her eyes wandering back to him. He was closer now, chatting with a woman in a red dress who leaned into him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. Jaya's stomach twisted, a pang of disappointment cutting through her excitement. Of course he's taken, she thought, her attraction dimming like a candle in the wind. Someone like him wouldn't be single. She straightened, pushing the feeling down. It's just a crush. You don't even know him.
The cake was sliced, and the party spilled back into music and laughter, a Bollywood playlist pulsing through the speakers. Jaya was laughing with Priya about Arjun's questionable dance moves when he approached, the man from the railing at his side. "Jaya, meet Prashanth," Arjun said, his grin wide. "My cousin, just back from Mumbai. Thought you two might click—you're both into words and all that creative stuff."
Prashanth extended a hand, his smile easy but with a warmth that made her pulse quicken. "Nice to meet you, Jaya," he said, his voice smooth, rich, like the first note of a guitar in a quiet room. His handshake was firm, his fingers lingering a moment too long, and she felt that spark again, electric and undeniable.
"Nice to meet you too," she said, her voice steadier than her racing heart, her smile bright to mask the flutter within. "So, creative stuff, huh? What do you do?"
He leaned against a nearby table, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "I'm a scriptwriter," he said. "Ads, short films, working on a feature now. Arjun says you're in advertising?"
"Yeah, junior copywriter," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit. "Still learning how to make shampoo sound life-changing."
He laughed, a sound that warmed her like sunlight. "That's an art form. Bet you're a natural."
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of shared passions—late-night brainstorming, the thrill of a perfect line, the chaos of creative deadlines. Jaya found herself relaxing, her attraction simmering beneath the surface but tempered by her resolve to keep things friendly. His stories were vivid, his humor sharp, and the way he listened, really listened, made her feel seen in a way she hadn't expected.
But then the woman in the red dress appeared, slipping her arm through Prashanth's with an ease that confirmed Jaya's fears. "Prashanth, you're leaving me out," she said, her tone playful but with an edge, her smile directed at Jaya like a subtle challenge.
Prashanth's expression softened, but Jaya caught a flicker of something—regret, maybe—in his eyes as he turned to the woman. "Sorry, Tara," he said. "Jaya, this is my girlfriend, Tara. Tara, Jaya's a friend of Priya's."
Tara's smile was polite, her handshake cool and brief. "Nice to meet you," she said, her eyes lingering on Jaya, assessing. "Prashanth loves talking to the creative crowd."
Jaya's heart sank, but she kept her smile in place, her voice light. "He's got great stories," she said, glancing at Prashanth. "Nice to meet you too, Tara."
The conversation shifted, Tara pulling Prashanth toward another group, and Jaya excused herself, heading to the bar for another lime soda. Her chest ached with a quiet disappointment, but she brushed it off, scolding herself. It was just a moment, Jaya. A silly crush. She was twenty-three, new to Bangalore, new to this life. There would be other nights, other sparks. But the memory of Prashanth's gaze, the way his smile had felt like it was meant for her, lingered like a song she couldn't shake.
She rejoined Priya, laughing at Arjun's over-the-top dance moves, letting the music and the crowd pull her back into the moment. When she glanced at Prashanth later, he was laughing with Tara, but his eyes found hers again, a brief, searching look that made her breath catch. She looked away, focusing on her friends, her drink, the starlit sky above.
Jaya didn't know it yet, but that night was the start of something—a spark that would flicker and grow, a story waiting to unfold. For now, she tucked her feelings away, hiding her crush behind her easy smile and natural chatter, but Prashanth's presence stayed with her, a quiet ember glowing under the Bangalore night.
-------------
Do vote and comment
