Part 1: The Club Night
The first time I fell into Nikhil's arms, I was wearing a red bodycon dress and six-inch heels. Unfortunately, it wasn't intentional. Looking back, I should have known that night would change everything.
Waiting for years for a night like this, I was finally ready. I had slipped into a dazzling bodycon dress, paired with matching earrings and an invisible gold chain. After carefully applying concealer over my acne marks, lipstick, kajal, and mascara, I looked in the mirror and smiled. For a moment, I felt like a model. I posed, trying to practice walking in my new stilettos. My friend had invited me to a bachelorette party, and it would be my first time going to a club.
Taking a deep breath, I smiled at my reflection. Just then, the doorbell rang, followed by soft knocks on the main door. I rushed to open it, but without enough training in these heels, I stumbled and fell right against Nikhil.
My face squished directly into his neck. Anyone looking at us would think Nikhil was my boyfriend because of how good he looked. He had a genuine heart, respected everyone, and possessed the kind of charm that made all the girls in my classes swoon. Yet, he never committed to a real relationship, choosing to stick to the "talking stage" and casual situationships instead. I always wondered why. He consistently prioritized me over whoever he was seeing, even canceling dates just to hang out with me. Tonight, he was acting as my fake boyfriend, but above all, he was my best friend and confidante.
As he steadied me, a warm smile crossed his face. I slowly looked up, still a bit off-balance. Catching sight of his neck, I gasped.
"I'm really sorry, Nikhil... I shouldn't have... I left a lipstick mark on your neck..."
Nikhil, his hands still resting gently on my shoulders, slowly pulled away. He reached for his phone, opened the camera app to check his neck, and let out a soft gasp of his own. "Do you have some tissues or a towel?"
Realizing he was still standing out in the hallway, I smiled sheepishly, stepped aside to welcome him, and pulled him toward my bedroom. We had always been completely comfortable around each other. Ever since my parents died in a plane crash, leaving me to live alone, Nikhil came over often whenever the loneliness grew too heavy. I hadn't sought help from my relatives, relying instead on the savings my parents left for my education and lifestyle. Nikhil's parents would always pack extra food in a lunchbox for him to deliver to me. Sometimes I'd invite him over for movies; other times, he’d just come by to rest after playing cricket at the turf near my house. "Look! This is my dressing table, and these are makeup remover wipes," I said, handing them to him. "Take one and wipe the mark. Now, look at the mirror."
He looked into the glass. Standing side by side, a strange sensation washed over me. We truly looked like a couple. He was incredibly sharp in a black suit, a crisp white shirt, and well-tailored trousers.
"Nikhil, do I look good? You know this is the first—"
"I know it's your first time wearing a bodycon dress," he interrupted gently. "I know. And you look beautiful. Don't doubt yourself." He paused, turning to face me completely. "But I want to ask you something. Are you really comfortable? Not just in the dress, but in those heels. They're so pointy, and you're already stumbling. How will you manage at the party? I know you've wanted to experience a club for a long time and that you're excited, and since they only allow couples, I'm glad to be your fake boyfriend. But I can see the nervousness in your eyes. Can we just take a deep breath and prioritize your comfort over a glamorous look?"
I looked down, unable to meet his gaze in the mirror. "Nikhil... I am comfortable. I've always wished I could dress up like this. You know that." My voice grew quieter. "But looking at myself... I feel like I look bad. I don't have a sense for dressing up or makeup. I tried my best, but I know there will be so many girls there who look way better than me. I've never even gotten a proposal. It's because I'm not beautiful."
In the reflection, I saw his hand move. I felt a gentle caress on my hair, and I looked up. Nikhil was watching me in the mirror with an incredibly soft expression.
"Who said you aren't beautiful? You look so cute," he said softly. "I love these earrings, and the dress complements your skin tone perfectly. Your skin looks glowing. Though your kajal is smudged a little bit." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. "And that's only because of these tears.
My breath hitched as he stepped into my space. Using a fresh tissue, he slowly and gently swiped away the smudged makeup beneath my eye. I looked straight into his eyes. They were a deep, striking black, framed by long lashes. He looked effortlessly handsome—meanwhile, I felt like I had to put in a mountain of effort just to blend into the crowd.
"What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, a playful eyebrow arching upward.
"You look really good today," I admitted with a subtle, bittersweet smile. "All the girls are going to try to catch your attention."
He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm tired of that scene, honestly. I'm really not interested. I'm only going to this club because I want to support you. I just want you to be happy."
"Do you have any situationships right now?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "I mean... if one of them catches you going to a club with me, wouldn't it cause trouble?"
"I'm not dealing with any of that right now," he replied, holding my gaze. "I don't have any 'ships' at the moment except our friendship. And even if I did, a situationship isn't a relationship. Everyone knows the deal: we respect each other's boundaries, and it's easy to move on when it's over."
After that, I smiled, and we stepped out before I locked the main door behind us. Looking over at his car, I lifted my eyebrows with a subtle smile. He blinked back at me playfully and walked over to open the passenger door.
"After you, princess," he said, his voice dropping into a velvety, low tone.
I smiled and got into the car. He closed my door, ran around the front, and hopped into the driver's seat. While he easily buckled his seatbelt, I fumbled with mine. Clearing his throat, he leaned over me. I blinked in confusion as he drew close. Catching a wave of his cologne, I completely forgot to breathe and held my breath without realizing it.
He gently clicked the seatbelt into place and pulled back with a smile, letting out a soft breath of his own.
"Thank you, Nikhil."
"No problem, Charvi. Ready to go? You can play some music if you'd like."
I turned on the dashboard radio, closed my eyes, and softly swayed my head, humming along until we reached the club.
The venue looked incredibly punky and colorful. Nikhil got out, jogged over to my side, and opened the passenger door, holding out his hand with a smile. I took it and carefully stepped out, leaning on him to walk confidently in my stilettos. As we entered the club, our friends smiled, and a few even gasped to see such a handsome man by my side. I held onto his hand tightly. When I noticed my college bullies in the crowd, staring at us with pure jealousy and disbelief, a wave of satisfaction washed over me. I couldn't help but smirk at them.
I congratulated my friend, who was soon going to be a bride, with a smile, and she gave me a soft hug. But the warmth of the moment vanished the second my college bullies arrived. They were the typical popular girls who never missed a chance to make my life miserable.
"Hey, you look... different," one of them drawled, her eyes shifting past me. "Who is he? He looks kinda sexy, you know?"
"He is my..." I glanced at him, panic rising in my throat. He blinked, a silent reassurance passing between us. Swallowing my fear, I drew in a breath and looked right at them. "He is my boyfriend."
