The warm sunlight streamed through the windows of Kinjal and Vayra’s shared apartment as the two sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by a chaotic mess of papers, photos, and notes. They were meticulously piecing together clues to figure out the identity of Kinjal’s persistent admirer.

Kinjal scribbled furiously in her notebook, her eyebrows knit in concentration, while Vayra leaned back, chewing on the end of her pen. The room was filled with the faint sound of rustling papers and an occasional groan of frustration.

Kinjal’s phone, sitting on the couch nearby, buzzed incessantly with notifications. The sound was starting to grate on her nerves.

"Ugh," Kinjal muttered, glancing at her phone. "This guy is relentless."

Vayra smirked, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Arre, dekh le. Tera fake majnu ka message hoga. Shayd bula raha hoga tujhe milne."

Kinjal glared at her, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. "Shut up, Vayra," she snapped, but her fingers twitched, itching to pick up her phone.

Vayra laughed, tossing a cushion at her. "Bas bas, drama queen! Ab to dekh hi le. Waise bhi blush kar rahi hai tu."

Kinjal groaned, grabbing her phone and unlocking it. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the flood of messages from Shubman on WhatsApp.

Gilli Danda Player🪱

Hey ACP sahiba, ek kaam bolo toh gussa mat hona, okay?

Tumhara favorite cafe kahan hai? Mujhe ek surprise dena hai.

Waise tumhari smile kaafi cute lagti hai, aur socha tha uska ek live version dekh loon aaj.

Date pe chalegi kya? Sirf pretend waala, promise!

Arey tum busy ho kya? Agar ho toh main khud aa jaata hoon tumhe uthane. 😂

Hello? ACP sahiba kaha gayi? Ab to jawab de do!

Dekho, agar abhi reply nahi kiya toh mein officially tumhe ‘Ms. Ignorer’ declare kar dunga.

Please bolo na... ek chhoti si coffee date. Tumhari choice ki jagah pe le jaunga.

Main zyada kuch nahi maang raha. Just ek ghanta, aur bas tum aur main.

Kinjal stared at the screen, her face burning with a mixture of annoyance and... something she didn’t want to admit. Vayra peeked over her shoulder and let out a loud laugh.

"Oh my God, Kinjal! Tum toh full busy ho! Banda toh kaafi serious lagta hai," Vayra teased. "Shubman se itna attention? Wah!!"

Kinjal rolled her eyes, setting her phone down. "He’s just... sticking to the plan. That’s all."

"Plan ya kuch aur?" Vayra raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Waise, woh ‘tumhari smile’ wali line thoda zyada flirty nahi thi? Tch tch. Tum dono ke fake drama mein asli sparks aa rahe hain kya?"

Kinjal picked up a pillow and threw it at Vayra. "Stop it! It’s nothing like that," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

Vayra smirked, crossing her arms. "Fine, mat maano. Par ab toh jawab dena padega. Uska phone toot jayega agar tumhe itna spam karta raha toh."

Kinjal sighed, picking up her phone again. She typed out a quick reply, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

Calm down, Shubman. Why are you so dramatic? I'll think about it.

The reply was barely sent when Shubman’s response came almost instantly.

  Gilli Danda Player🪱

YES! Tum maan gayi. Thank you.

Main tumhare ghar ke neeche hoon. Ready ho jao, aur please acchi wali dress pehno.

.

Kinjal’s jaw dropped. "What the—he’s outside already?!"

Vayra burst into laughter. "Arey wah, banda toh serious hai. Jaldi ready ho jao, Tumhari fake date shuru hone wali hai!"

Kinjal groaned, running a hand through her hair. "This is going to be a disaster."

"Ya phir, yeh sirf shuruaat hai," Vayra teased, winking.

Kinjal grabbed her phone and headed to her room to get ready, her heart pounding for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.

----

Kinjal stood in front of her mirror, giving her reflection one final glance. The crochet white off-shoulder top complemented her dusky skin tone perfectly, and the grey jeans fit her like a glove. She slung her maroon-colored bag across her shoulder, double-checking that it held just her lip gloss and phone. After smoothing her hair and adjusting a few stray strands, she made her way to the window, curious to see if Shubman was really still waiting.

There he was.

Shubman leaned casually against his sleek black Porsche, his arms crossed, exuding an effortless charm. The black shirt and pants he wore only amplified his sharp features, and the Rolex on his wrist gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. He seemed relaxed, but the way he kept checking his watch hinted at impatience.

Kinjal smirked. Let's test his patience a bit more, she thought mischievously.

She took her sweet time, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, occasionally peeking out the window to see Shubman pacing slightly or glancing up at her apartment. After nearly an hour, she decided it was time.

"Bass, ab toh jaake uska patience ka guroor todna hai," she muttered to herself, grabbing her keys.

She bid a quick goodbye to Vayra, who was sprawled on the couch. "Enjoy your date with Mr. Gill," Vayra teased, wagging her eyebrows.

"It's fake, and you know it," Kinjal shot back, rolling her eyes.

"Fake ya asli, bas mazaa lena!" Vayra laughed, waving her off.

Kinjal stepped out of the building, her heels clicking against the pavement, and walked toward Shubman. His head snapped up as soon as he saw her. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between relief and exasperation.

"Finally," he said, pushing himself off the car.

"Finally, kya? Tujhe toh bahut patience hai, right?" Kinjal smirked, crossing her arms as she reached him.

"You took an hour!" Shubman exclaimed, his frustration barely veiled. "Main yahan standing statue ban gaya hoon!"

"Achha? Toh yeh Rolex pehen ke time dekhna kyun nahi aata?" Kinjal teased, gesturing to his wrist.

"Very funny, ACP sahiba," Shubman replied dryly.

Kinjal’s smirk widened. "Waise, yeh kya black-outfit flex kar rahe ho? And this Porsche? Tumhe kya laga, mujhe impress karoge? Gilli danda player."

Shubman’s jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed. "Kya bola?"

"Gilli danda player," she repeated with mock innocence, biting back a laugh.

Shubman groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Pehle toh late, upar se yeh naam. Main itna effort kar raha hoon aur tum mujhe ‘gilli danda player’ bula rahi ho? Seriously?"

Kinjal shrugged, looking unfazed. "Kya karein? Jo sach hai woh toh bolungi, na?"

"Kinjal," Shubman said, stepping closer, his voice low and tinged with frustration, "tumhe ek din ke liye bhi serious hona aata hai?"

Kinjal raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the sudden proximity. "Agar fake boyfriend banna hai toh thoda sarcasm sehna padega, Mr. Gill."

Shubman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Tum impossible ho."

"Yeh toh shuruaat hai," Kinjal replied cheekily, walking past him toward the passenger side of the car.

Shubman followed her, shaking his head. "Chalo, madam. Let’s go before tum aur kuch bolke mujhe regret karwa do."

As Kinjal slid into the car, she couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her lips. Shubman, meanwhile, started the engine, muttering something under his breath about “dealing with impossible women.”

The tension between them lingered, but it was balanced by the playful undertone neither could ignore.

As soon as they settled in the car, Kinjal buckled her seatbelt and casually asked, "So, where are we going?"

Shubman’s hands were steady on the steering wheel as he replied nonchalantly, "Wherever you want to go."

Kinjal froze for a second, processing his words. Then, in a flash, she threw herself back against the seat dramatically, placing a hand on her forehead.

"Haiye Mere Krishna ji! Yeh kaise boyfriend mila hai mujhe, woh bhi fake! Ek proper date plan karna toh dur ki baat, isse yeh bhi nahi pata ki ladki ko kaha le jaana chahiye!" she exclaimed, her voice dripping with theatrical disbelief. "Mere sare high standards ka kachra kar diya isne. Matlab ek fake relationship mein bhi effort nahi kar raha banda!"

Shubman turned his head slightly, staring at her with an incredulous expression. "Are you done?"

Kinjal sniffled dramatically, pretending to wipe away a nonexistent tear. "Nahi, mujhe abhi bolne do. Mera fake boyfriend hone ka yehi haq hai na tumhara?"

Shubman sighed deeply, resting his head back against the seat for a second. He clearly wasn’t going to win this battle. "Say the location fast, or I’ll leave you here and drive off."

Kinjal quickly sat up, her face lighting up like she hadn’t just been putting on an Oscar-worthy performance. "There’s this cafe called ‘Lily Bookstore.’ It’s about twenty minutes from here. Let’s go there," she mumbled faintly, trying to mask the satisfaction in her tone.

Shubman shot her a look. "You had this planned all along, didn’t you?"

Kinjal shrugged innocently, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Acha cafe hai, tumhe pasand aayega."

"Sure, whatever," Shubman muttered as he started driving.

---

The drive was mostly quiet, except for Kinjal occasionally humming a tune or commenting on random things outside the window. Shubman kept his focus on the road, occasionally sneaking a glance at her whenever she got too quiet, but he said nothing.

When they finally arrived at Lily Bookstore, the quaint little cafe nestled between two brick buildings instantly charmed them. Fairy lights were strung across the entrance, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and books filled the air as they stepped inside.

Kinjal took a deep breath, her eyes sparkling. "This is perfect," she murmured, looking around.

"At least you’re happy now," Shubman muttered under his breath, earning a playful nudge from her.

-------

As soon as they entered the charming Lily Bookstore Cafe, Shubman made a beeline for an empty table near the window. But before he could sit, Kinjal had already wandered off, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she moved toward the bookshelves.

Shubman groaned softly, running a hand through his hair. Of course. The girl sees books, and I become invisible. Rolling his eyes, he reluctantly followed her, mentally preparing himself for whatever drama would unfold next.

He trailed behind her as she touched almost every book on the shelves. Some she pulled out, read the blurb, and then placed back. Others she merely ran her fingers along as if they were treasures she couldn’t decide whether to keep. Shubman crossed his arms, leaning against one of the shelves, and watched her antics with growing amusement.

Finally, unable to keep quiet, he asked, "Do you even read books, or do you just like touching them for no reason?"

Kinjal turned to him with a casual shrug, holding a hardcover she’d just pulled off the shelf. "I read. You think I just pretend to be smart, Mr. Gilli Danda Player?"

Shubman raised an eyebrow at her, ignoring the jab. "Okay then. What’s the last book you read?"

"Ah, let me think," Kinjal replied, carefully avoiding eye contact. She pretended to be engrossed in the book she held, flipping through the pages aimlessly.

Shubman smirked. "Thought so. You just like them for decoration—"

"Will you keep quiet, Shubb?" she snapped, putting the book back and grabbing another. "Your job here is to stand, follow, and pay. Not to ask questions. That’s too much thinking for your cricket brain."

"Cricket brain?" Shubman repeated, now genuinely amused. "You’ve got jokes today, don’t you?"

Kinjal shot him a mischievous grin, tapping the tip of his nose lightly with her finger. "And you’ve got too much free time if you’re arguing with me here."

Shubman shook his head, muttering something about how ridiculous this was, but he still followed her around like a reluctant shadow. Every now and then, she handed him a book without explanation. He thought the first one was harmless enough—a sleek hardcover with a glossy title. But then another book joined it. And another. Before long, his arms were loaded with a stack of books taller than he cared to admit.

"Are you buying a library?" he asked, looking down at the eight books in his hands.

Kinjal gave him an innocent smile as she picked up yet another hardcover and placed it on the pile. "No. You’re buying me a library."

Shubman stared at her, dumbfounded. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"I’m not," Kinjal said sweetly, patting his shoulder. "What kind of fake boyfriend doesn’t spoil his fake girlfriend? Tsk, tsk. You’ve got a lot to learn, Mr. Gilli Danda Player."

Shubman glared at her but didn’t argue. He knew better by now. "Just pick a seat already. You’ve terrorized the bookshelves long enough."

After fifteen minutes of wandering and Shubman carrying her growing stack of books, he finally managed to coax her to sit at a table near the window. She flopped down with a triumphant grin, while he carefully placed the books on the table, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," he muttered.

Kinjal ignored him, pulling one of the books toward her and flipping through it casually. "You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Otherwise, I’d make you carry more."

Shubman sank into the chair opposite her, eyeing the pile like it was his mortal enemy. "You’re unbelievable, you know that?"

Kinjal gave him a cheeky smile. "And you’re a good fake boyfriend. Now, go order me a coffee, Mr. Gilli Danda."

-----