Sayonee (Re-writing)

F o u r

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Laila
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Bashir Mansion looked less like a house and more like an event venue whenever Khaloo hosted parties.

Lights wrapped around the balconies in soft gold while fountains near the entrance reflected against marble pathways still damp from rain. Luxury cars lined the driveway one after another as guests drifted inside dressed in silk, velvet, diamonds, and carefully maintained reputations.

I stepped out of the car beside Danish and stared toward the entrance.

"Khakis really enjoys making statements," I muttered.

Danish adjusted the sleeve of his suit calmly. "You say that every single time."

"Because every single time it looks like someone rented out a palace."

A faint smile appeared on his face before his arm settled briefly around my shoulders as we walked inside.

The music was soft.
The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and fresh flowers.
Clusters of people stood beneath chandeliers discussing politics, business, investments, marriages — the usual topics that dominated gatherings like this.

I lasted exactly seven minutes before getting bored.

Maybe there was something wrong with me.

Everyone else seemed perfectly capable of surviving these parties gracefully while I spent most of my time searching for food or escape routes.

Mostly food.

"You haven't eaten properly all day, have you?" Danish asked quietly beside me.

I avoided eye contact immediately.

"That explains the attitude."

"I always have attitude."

"True."

Before I could respond, Phupo suddenly called my name from across the hall.

There was no escape after that.

Within minutes, I found myself trapped beside a woman I barely knew while she enthusiastically introduced me to her son as if she were presenting a business proposal.

"Asad just completed his master's degree in London," she announced proudly.

The man beside her smiled with the confidence of someone who had spent his entire life being praised in rooms exactly like this one.

"That's impressive," I said politely.

"It's exhausting," Asad corrected. "Especially because now my father expects me to join the business full-time."

Poor thing.
How tragic.

"And what are you studying?" he asked.

"Psychology."

His expression shifted almost immediately. "So basically you study mentally unstable people?"