'Just in time or you would have had to get the keys from Lou', said Neena as I entered the apartment. I let out a sigh of relief as I narrowly escaped hours of talk from old Mrs. Lou and her cats including the dead ones who she keeps stuffed in her living room.

'Lemme see the crystal now', she said as she gathered up her hair into a bun.

'How-'

'I don't have to be Sherlock to understand why you'd be late especially after you've been going on and on about that shop', she said and I shook my head at her.

Neena let out a squeal as I revealed my little treasure and I couldn't help but feel relieved that I had gotten a roommate who was comfortable with my little quirks. Neena had an obsession of her own but they came in a more fluffier version; cushions. All around our apartment you could find cushions of various shapes, sizes, and material that it was impossible not to scream 'PILLOW FIGHT!' from their comfy forms.

When the sequin ones came out she made sure to gift me with a set of 3 which changed colors and even formed words when swiped up and down. Unfortunately, the one I had read 'Hoe' and 'Bitch' because they were the only ones left and Neena felt (in her words) 'utterly crushed' when she realized she hadn't bought a set for me. So they sat on my bed, without their charming words and my only relief was that they shimmered each time I moved or touched them.

'You should hang these up', she said as she handed it back.

'I'm frightened that they'll break', I said with a small frown.

'I could help make a base for them like we did for the crystal tree. Those crystals are meant to shine, not gather up dust', she said with a serious tone and I grinned at her.

'Okay so you don't have to stay up because I'll be going over to Dec's place after my shift and-' but I cut her off with a mocking 'oooohhhh'

'Oh grow up Omi! And because of your mockery I'll spoil the mood by letting you know that your Mom called', she said with a smirk and I groaned.

'Why can't she just be comfortable with calling me once a day?', I asked and she chuckled.

'Parents', she replied.

'More like overprotective ones', I mumbled.

'Bask in your misery, lovely! I got a date! Bye!', she exclaimed happily and with a quick hug, she left.

I sat down on the couch, pushing all of Neena's cushions to the floor and debated on whether I should call my Mom back or not. It's not that we had a broken relationship or anything, it's just that I couldn't stand how she needed to always know what I was doing. Sure, I lived oceans away from her now but I thought it would make her feel like I was responsible enough to live on my own.

Besides, the only reason I came to Canada was for a fresh start. I'd had enough of India, I needed this escape.

My Mom was ecstatic when she found out that my roommate was Indian too and she made it her mission to get Neena to tell her everything that I was up to but Neena was too sweet of a friend to put me on the line. I think the one thing that my Mom is secretly afraid of us is whether I'll end up dating someone. She always talks about how all the women from my Dad's side had the tendency to date or elope with some 'miscreant'. And because everyone said I had my Dad's stubborn and reckless behavior, she was always paranoid.

But it's been 24 years and never once have I brought or made my family even hear about a boy that I like. That's probably the only reason why both of my parents are okay with my guy friends but as soon as I left the continent, their old fear has returned. Even my Dad supports my Mom on this because he knows what I'm capable of.

Although it's quite sad that my parents don't realize how picky their daughter is when it comes to men. It's not like I haven't been asked out but the majority of them are not my type. So what is my type? According to my friend Dev, 'a unicorn' because he doesn't exist and he never wastes an opportunity to remind me of it.

But come on, you can't blame me! I have a very strict list if I ever tend to bring someone home.

Omi's requirements for her Prince Charming

1. Should be a Christian ( I'm not being racist or anything, it's an Indian thing where if you marry outside your religion, you'll end up being cut from your entire family and I quite like my family even though they're as crazy as a pack of hyenas)

2. He should have a degree that's equivalent to mine. (Also because of he's anything less than an Engineer my parents won't even let him set foot inside the house)

3. He shouldn't smoke, do drugs or drink. ( That's a very personal choice of mine. Also in case, I didn't tell you, both of my parents are doctors who've specialized in alcohol and substance abuse counseling. I've been scarred with enough stories to keep me awake at night)

4. He should NOT be a traditional Indian boy. ( Lemme explain that. You see, I grew up in America till I was 10. Believe me, that was enough to make part of my ideals American. So I will and cannot tolerate someone who is old fashioned and believes that his wife should sit around and wait on him. Believe me, it will be his funeral if he even says 'You can't go outside wearing jeans')

5. Should be a Gilbert Blythe (See, that's when Dev said I was searching for a unicorn. I'm not asking for much! I just want a guy who has no problem with my wild imagination and love for literature or monthly obsessions over different things!)

See, just five things. I haven't even mentioned how he looks (1000 + points if his eyes are blue) It's not much to ask but unfortunately, Cupid had no intention of even sending someone like that my way and I was reminded of the guy from the store.

I didn't feel that tingly sensation you read or hear about but instead, as all my friendships start, I was intrigued. I guess I secretly think about how it would be like to date a guy I befriend but a few evaluations later, it was always the same conclusion; not him.

Also the biggest and most important reason, I wasn't ready.

I might have looked all calm and collected on the outside but believe me, my insides were already over thinking about the guy and conjuring up ridiculous thoughts like he's been noticing me since the first day and that he might ask me out but if he did then I'd have to turn him down and I'd never get to experience that fictional romance-

STOP!

That sudden force of mind control stopped the room from spinning or was that just my head. A deep breath and a few minutes of focusing on the crystal tree, I calmly told myself that people were like that. They notice other people and remember them and it doesn't make them a stalker.

But let's face the facts, that was one good looking guy and my hormones got the better of me, so before I knew it, I was already on Facebook searching for him but I paused midway.

I DIDNT KNOW HIS NAME!

Wait.

If the store has an active social media page, then it's sure to post pictures of its staff, right? That was my one shot to find out who he was and thankfully, there was one candid picture of him helping a customer. I eagerly checked for a tag but there wasn't any.

I slumped back disappointed and continued to look at him. His hair was neatly combed to a side making it look voluminous. His face was blessed with structured jawbones and you could see that he worked hard to keep a clean-shaven face. He was what Sumi and I called the correct mix of man and boy. The type of man you wish that existed, well in looks that is.

However it also made me doubt his motives and before I knew it my mind became a train headed straight for every single Hollywood and the fictional bad boy likes good girl plot but before it shot into the tunnel, I pulled the brakes. Relax Omi, relax.

I opened my eyes and I was back on the ground with sea glass eyes on my phone screen. I guess time will tell me who you are.