H3110w0rld
Guys my friend wrote this for me on chatgpt it's beautiful
Dhruti wasn’t one to chase celebrities. She had her own life—a busy one at that—juggling her architecture firm and her passion for painting. But when her best friend dragged her to a charity gala in London, promising it would be “life-changing,” she reluctantly agreed. Little did she know, her friend wasn’t exaggerating.
As she wandered through the grand ballroom, admiring the towering floral arrangements and elegant crowd, she heard a voice—smooth, deep, and undeniably magnetic. “Mind if I join you?”
She turned, and there he was. Zayn Malik.
Dhruti blinked, certain she was imagining things. “Join me?” she asked, glancing at the empty table where she’d been sipping her champagne.
Zayn smirked, slipping into the chair across from her. “You looked like you needed rescuing from all the small talk.”
“I was fine, actually,” she replied, arching a brow. “But thanks for the concern.”
His chuckle was soft, almost shy. “Fair enough. I’ll admit, I might’ve needed the rescue more than you.”
Dhruti tilted her head, intrigued despite herself. “You? Don’t you have a million people vying for your attention right now?”
He shrugged, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “That’s kind of the problem. They’re all looking for Zayn Malik, the singer. Not Zayn, the guy who just wants a quiet conversation.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “And you think I’m different?”
“I know you are,” he said simply.
H3110w0rld
Continued
Their conversation flowed easily, moving from art and music to architecture and travel. Zayn seemed genuinely fascinated by her work, asking questions about her latest designs and her favorite cities.
“You should come to New York,” he said at one point. “The skyline there could use some of your magic.”
Dhruti laughed. “Are you offering me a commission?”
“Maybe,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “But only if you promise to give me a tour when it’s done.”
The night flew by, and before she knew it, the gala was winding down. As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Zayn turned to her, his expression uncharacteristically serious.
“I don’t usually do this,” he admitted, “but… can I see you again?”
Dhruti hesitated, her heart racing. She wasn’t sure what surprised her more—that he was asking or that she wanted to say yes.
“Maybe,” she said, echoing his earlier word with a teasing smile.
His grin was instant. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
And as Zayn Malik’s hand brushed hers, Dhruti couldn’t help but wonder if this chance meeting might just be the beginning of something extraordinary.
