The Classy Thirteen

Psychic's Horizons.

Author's POV

The sun streamed lazily through the curtains of the friends’ hotel rooms, illuminating strewn shoes, half-empty snack bags, and phones on the verge of running out of battery. The previous night's late-night Thames River walk had left everyone exhausted, and the entire group was still in dreamland, sprawled across their beds like ragdolls.

At precisely 1:30 PM, Mayank, ever the planner, stirred from his deep sleep. His room was a mess—clothes thrown on the couch, an empty pizza box on the table, and a suitcase that looked as if a tornado had passed through it. Grabbing his phone, he opened the group chat with a mischievous smile and typed:

"Guys, 4 baje tak rest kar lo uske baad hum bahar jaayenge. Jaana kahaan hai woh surprise hai, kyunki abhi bataya toh aadhe log toh mana hi kar denge jaane se. Toh tum log 4:30 tak khud ready hoke neeche aa jaana."

A minute passed, and the chat lit up with a reply from Reyan.

"Kya matlab khud ready hoke, daily kya tu humen aake ready karta hai?"

Mayank snorted. He could almost hear Reyan's sarcastic tone as he typed his reply.

"Arey mera matlab ki bina mere text ka wait kiye ready ho jaana aur neeche aa jaana."

Just as he sent the message, Sara joined in.

"Woh sab theek hai lekin aisi bhi kaun si jagah hai jo agar tumne bata di toh hum jaayenge hi nahi?"

Mayank smirked, fingers dancing over his phone.

"Surprise, Sara. Surprise. 🫢"

Sara, intrigued but too sleepy to argue, typed a quick "Okay."

Moments later, Samyra’s irritation spilled into the chat.

"Ab sone doge tum log? Chup raho ab! Sone do."

Mayank laughed as he read her message, imagining her curled up in bed, throwing imaginary daggers at her phone.

~

Ayra's POV

The messages in the group chat kept piling up, the screen lighting up every few seconds as my friends exchanged their usual jokes and sarcastic comments. I read them all, letting out a soft chuckle at Reyan’s classic wit and Sara’s inquisitiveness. But I didn’t feel like responding.

Instead, I placed my phone face down on the bedside table.

It wasn’t like me to stay quiet. Usually, I’d be the first one to chime in, cracking jokes or teasing someone. Everyone saw me as the life of the trip, the one who kept things lively and fun. But they didn’t know that beneath all the laughter, there was an emptiness I couldn’t seem to fill.

I reached for my AirPods, connecting them to my phone and scrolling through my playlist until I found our song- Die With A Smile.

I hesitated for a moment before pressing play. The melody filled my ears, bringing a bittersweet comfort that I both craved and dreaded.

As I closed my eyes, his face appeared.

His face alone brought a pang to my chest. I had loved him in a way I never thought I was capable of loving anyone. He wasn’t just someone I cared about - he was my dream, my home, my everything.

We had so many plans together, one of them being this very trip to London. I could almost hear his voice as we used to talk about the places we’d visit, the memories we’d create. But here I was, in the city we once dreamed of exploring together, without him.