It was an hour after my mom left; Abhiraaj came along with Bela aunty and Raj uncle.

Abhiraaj. Abhiraaj. Abhiraaj.

The man of my dreams. My first true love.

'Riya, what's wrong? Why do you have a scowling face on?' Abhiraaj asked as he simultaneously pulled my cheeks. I silently scowled in response to his action because my body was literally heating up. My cheeks experienced a high rush of blood circulation. I responded, 'We've got fewer pizzas than we deserve. I'm gonna let everyone go home with a half-filled stomach tonight.'

'Karishma, hasn't Aparajita given you some money and gone? I know she has a critical report to submit today.'

'No aunty, she's told to manage with whatever is there.' I replied.

'Order whatever you need, and we'll pay. Don't worry, we'll handle your mom.' Raj uncle gave me a tight hug. That's the thing I like most about Abhiraaj's parents. They've always been really supportive and chill to me. I can't believe my mom and Bela aunty work in the same hospital and are best friends, yet they're so different. Bela aunty, Raj uncle, mom, and dad had studied medicine in Strasbourg University, France. They've been friends since their medical school. While mom and Bela aunty are pediatricians, dad chose to be a surgeon, and Raj uncle did an MBA. He works in the very lavishly paying Goldman Sachs, Mumbai branch.

That is why I'm half French. That's why I'm Karishma Renaud. That's why brown eyes with orange shades and dark brown wavy hair. Renaud is a French surname, and my dad's Raphael Renaud, who's married his medicine school classmate, Aparajita Sharma, my mom. He works in the American Hospital of Paris, and my older brother Victor Prateek Renaud lives with him. He's in his second year of study at the Paris School of Business. The main reason I live here with mom is that she always wanted to work in India. If she'd chosen to stay there in Paris with dad, I would have been dancing under the Eiffel Tower now. Sad life.

'Riya's best party ever.' Abhiraaj spoke as he poked my stomach. The guy's literally only job around me is to disturb. I used to really love him, I still do maybe, but I'm trying to move on. Being around Abhiraaj literally feels different for me. We have been childhood friends, and I realized I loved him for real when I was in grade five.

Abhiraaj Kapoor is a handsome guy. A really, really good-looking guy. His diamond-shaped face, his brown eyes, and his full pink lips are worth staring at. He has fair skin, an incredible physique, and the best curly smile ever. He's right in studies, he plays national level basketball, he dances well. He's charismatic, a real family guy, and he spreads positivity and zeal around wherever he goes. At least I feel extra bubbly, even more than my usual recklessness when I'm around him. And oh his hair! Curly, messy, and somewhat untrimmed, his guitar in his hand and him singing the latest Arijit Singh number, it's the moment I see nothing around but him.

He also has an equally perfect girlfriend, unlike me, who's confused half the time about what to do. That is why I call him Ayum secretly. Its an Indian name, which means 'Walking Desire.' He's literally my that. Or was.

Abhiraaj seems to really enjoy my company, but he never really understood how I felt for him. Or at least he didn't show it. But kind of I don't really blame him because the whole world knew I loved him except him. I had told everyone about my feeling towards him, except him. I recently decided to try and get over my obsession because deep down, I realized I'm never getting a reciprocation back.

And one-sided love is hard.