Chapter 1: Introduction
Friday rush-hour traffic wasn’t exactly the most glamorous part of my week. You could smell a deep-fried donkey in those congested streets.
Twenty minutes in, and still going nowhere. I slammed my hands against the steering wheel. Why was life forcing me to torture myself like this? “Shut up, Priya,” I muttered, though no one was in a position to give shit.
I glared down the concrete jungle outside the windshield. That’s when I took my second step towards an affair with destiny.
Okay, fine—my car.
Sat on her bumper like we were long-lost sisters—yeah, Anika. She was flipping off someone playing loud music next to her.
Solidarity, bitch. *snorts* (The dude’s beat probably sounded like it was trying to punch the sky at that decibel.)
**Priya:** *rolls her eyes* Oh yeah, because nothing screams peace like metal riffs blasting in your ears at 7 a.m. Jesus, Mary, and all the fucking saints—when do people learn?
**Priya:** (to an exasperated expression) *squeezes Anika's shoulder* Chill, ya sexy beast. Let’s just get reamed by traffic like grown-ups.
Anika gives a dramatic throw of her hands, but can’t resist a smile—classic her, always down for an adventure.
They both share a ridiculous laugh.
Solidarity, bitch. *snorts* (The dude’s beat probably sounded like it was trying to punch the sky at that decibel.)
**Priya:** *rolls her eyes* Oh yeah, because nothing screams peace like metal riffs blasting in your ears at 7 a.m. Jesus, Mary, and all the fucking saints—when do people learn?
**Priya:** (to an exasperated expression) *squeezes Anika's shoulder* Chill, ya sexy beast. Let’s just get reamed by traffic like grown-ups.
Anika gives a dramatic throw of her hands, but can’t resist a smile—classic her, always down for an adventure.
They both share a ridiculous laugh.
The tension, like the morning fog, dissipates as quick as a flake of snow. “What the FUCK,” Anika mutters, “are people even alive if they’re not late?” Only a quick glance at her side mirror to check her face before she spits back, “You ugly enough yet?” Priya’s gut punches her with laughter. That’s when it dawns on her, maybe this chaotic chaos of humanity isn't as soul-sucking as it seems. Also, why is Anika looking at me like that? Is it me?
Fuck it. Might as well make this stale-ass morning brighter.
Priya yanks the parking brake, jumps out and sprints to the door. Anika blazes behind, a blur of determination.
Their legs move like they've run this sprint a thousand times, each step almost a prayer for time.
**Priya:** *breathlessly* Sprint like your life actually depends on being early—our boss doesn’t give a shit about you.
That’s when their apartment appears, a tiny dot on the horizon with the most crooked entrance stairs you’ve ever seen. They scramble down, laughing and bitching about traffic till they hit the pavement.
Feeling alive like they just leveled up from human to superhero.
Anika smirks.
“Don’t get your hair wet before getting dressed,” she flings before pushing through the door.
They both streak into the bathroom—what little buffer there is between them, a brief slide of distance, and it’s gone. The space is what it is: cramped, chaos-in-waiting, a universe where personal space flees like your dignity in a Vegas bar fight.
Their faces are flushed from sprinting, eyes half-lidded, as if that tiny jog was a damn sprint marathon. They dump their clothes on the floor, ignoring the trail of chaos they leave behind like they're on speed. That’s when Anika plops a blunt on what passes for a shelf over the sink.