Monday mornings and Aarohi Sharma had one thing in common.

Neither of them liked each other.

"AAROHI SHARMA!"

Her mother's voice echoed through the entire house.

Silence.

"AAROHI!"

A groan escaped from beneath a mountain of blankets.

"Five more minutes..." Aarohi mumbled, hugging her pillow tighter.

"You said that twenty-five minutes ago!"

"I meant... another five."

"You'll miss college!"

"I'll tell them architecture needs beauty sleep."

"You have exactly two minutes before I come in."

The room fell silent.

One...

Two...

Three...

The bedroom door burst open.

"Mom!"

"You asked for it."

Sunlight flooded the room as the curtains were thrown open.

Aarohi buried her face deeper into the pillow.

"That's an attack."

"It's called waking up."

"I'll file a complaint."

"With whom?"

"The Sleep Protection Association."

Her mother crossed her arms.

"They rejected your application years ago."

Aarohi peeked out dramatically.

"Heartless."

"Lazy."

"Creative."

"Chaotic."

"I prefer 'artist.'"

"You have class in forty minutes."

Aarohi froze.

"...Forty?"

Her mother nodded.

"...Minutes?"

"Yes."

"...As in..."

"Forty."

The blanket flew across the room.

"Oh my God!"

She stumbled out of bed, immediately stepping on a sketchbook.

"Whoa—"

Thud.

She landed on the floor.

"I'm okay!" she yelled before anyone could ask.

Her mother simply sighed.

"I didn't even ask."

"I know. I wanted to reassure myself."

She scrambled to her feet.

"Where are my glasses?"

"They're on your head."

"Oh."

"My phone?"

"Beside your pillow."

"My notebook?"

"Under your blanket."

"My socks?"

"I gave up looking."

Aarohi blinked.

"...Fair."

She rushed toward the bathroom.

Three seconds later—

"Mom!"

"What now?"

"I forgot my towel!"

"You forgot it yesterday too."

"I like consistency."

Her mother tossed the towel through the doorway.

"You'll be the reason I age early."

"I thought Dad did that."

A burst of laughter came from the dining room.

Her father looked up from his newspaper.

"I heard that."

"You were supposed to."

He chuckled.

"My daughter has chosen violence before breakfast."

"I learned from the best."

Her father placed a hand dramatically over his heart.

"I feel honored."

"You shouldn't."

Twenty minutes later...

The Sharma dining table looked like a battlefield.

Aarohi ran downstairs wearing one sneaker.

Her backpack hung half open.

Pencils poked out from every pocket.

A measuring scale threatened to escape.

"Aarohi."

"Hmm?"

"You're wearing one black shoe and one white shoe."

She looked down.

"...Fashion."

"No."

She sprinted back upstairs.

Her younger cousin, Riya, giggled.

"Di loses against mornings every day."

"It's a tradition."

Mom shook her head.

"It's a miracle she remembers her own name."

"I don't."

Everyone stared.

She smiled brightly.

"I'm kidding."

"...Mostly."

Her father slid a plate toward her.

"Sit."

"I'll eat on the way."

"You said that yesterday."

"I did."

"And you came home with the sandwich still in your bag."

"It was emotionally attached."

"It was moldy."

"It had character."

"No arguments."

She stuffed two bites of toast into her mouth.

"Mmph."

"What?"

She swallowed.

"I'm eating."

"I can see that."

Her phone buzzed.

Maya: Where are you?

Maya: Don't tell me you're still sleeping.

Maya: HELLO?

Aarohi typed furiously.

Aarohi: Almost there.

A second later—

Maya: Liar.

Aarohi: Halfway there.

Maya: You're literally online from home.

"...Technology is ruining friendships."

Her father laughed.

"Tell Maya we'll save you breakfast."

"I'll tell her you said that."

"Don't you dare."

She kissed both her parents on the cheeks.

"Love you!"

Her mother caught her wrist.

"Bag."

"What?"

"You forgot your bag."

"...Right."

She grabbed it.

Her father called after her.

"Lunchbox!"

"Oh!"

She returned.

Her mother handed it over.

"ID card?"

Aarohi froze again.

"...I have one?"

"It hangs around your neck every single day."

She looked down.

"Oh."

Her father shook his head.

"One day she'll leave without herself."

"I almost did."

Outside, the morning air was pleasantly cool.

Aarohi unlocked her scooter.

"Please start on the first try."

Nothing.

"...Please."

Second attempt.

Nothing.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Listen."

Silence.

"You and I have been through a lot together."

Nothing.

"I'll buy you premium petrol."

The engine roared to life.

"There you go."

She patted the handle affectionately.

"I knew bribery would work."

Twenty-five minutes later...

The gates of National Institute of Architecture and Design stood proudly against the bright blue sky.

Students hurried across the sprawling campus.

Sketch tubes rested on shoulders.

Drawing boards balanced in careful hands.

Laughter echoed through the pathways.

Architecture students were easy to recognize.

Either they looked sleep-deprived...

...or they carried enough stationery to open a small shop.

Aarohi parked crookedly.

A security guard sighed.

"Again?"

"I call it creative parking."

"I call it blocking traffic."

She moved it exactly three inches.

"There."

He stared.

She smiled.

"Progress."

"Finally!"

Maya folded her arms.

"I was about to file a missing person report."

"I would've appreciated the publicity."

Kabir looked at Aarohi's shoes.

"...Why are they different colors?"

She looked down.

Again.

"...I changed only one."

Maya burst into laughter.

"You actually did!"

"I was in a hurry."

Kabir pinched the bridge of his nose.

"How do you survive?"

"Pure confidence."

"It isn't working."

"It has so far."

Her best friend Neha joined them carrying coffee.

"Good morning, chaos."

"Good morning, judgment."

Neha handed her a cup.

"You'll need this."

"I always do."

Aarohi took one sip.

Heaven.

"I would marry coffee."

Kabir pointed toward the canteen.

"You said the same thing about samosas last week."

"I believe in keeping my options open."

Their laughter filled the corridor.

Students passing by smiled.

Everyone knew Aarohi.

Some because she topped design competitions.

Most because she accidentally created unforgettable stories every semester.

There was the time she glued her own sleeve to a model.

The day she walked into the boys' studio because she was too busy sketching to notice the sign.

The week she lost her measuring scale... only to discover she'd been using it as a bookmark.

Life around Aarohi was never quiet.

As they climbed the stairs toward the design studio, whispers spread through the corridor.

"Did you hear?"

"I heard he's coming today."

"They say he's terrifying."

"My cousin interned under him."

"Apparently he can spot a one-millimeter error from across the room."

"Seriously?"

"He owns the biggest architecture firm in India."

"Why would someone like him teach here?"

Aarohi frowned.

"Who's coming?"

Kabir lowered his voice dramatically.

"Our new guest professor."

Neha nodded.

"And not just any professor."

"He's also a billionaire CEO."

"People say he's a genius."

Maya added,

"And ridiculously strict."

Aarohi rolled her eyes.

"So?"

"So?"

Kabir looked offended.

"It's Arjun Malhotra."

"Should I know him?"

All three friends gasped.

"You don't?"

"I spend my life drawing buildings, not collecting famous architects."

Neha pulled out her phone and showed a photograph.

A sharply dressed man.

Dark suit.

Calm expression.

Eyes that seemed impossible to read.

"He looks..."

"What?"

"...Like he smiles once every leap year."

Kabir laughed so hard he nearly dropped his drawing tube.

Maya whispered,

"If he hears you, you'll fail before introductions."

Aarohi shrugged.

"If he's a good professor, great."

"And if he isn't?"

"I'll tell him."

Her friends exchanged worried looks.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"You'll argue with him."

"I argue respectfully."

"You argue professionally."

"I call it constructive criticism."

"You call everyone out."

"I believe in honesty."

Kabir sighed dramatically.

"We're doomed."

Before Aarohi could reply, the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Attention, students. All second-year architecture students are requested to assemble in Studio Hall A in five minutes to welcome our new guest professor."

The hallway erupted with excitement.

Students hurried toward the studio.

Aarohi took one last sip of her coffee.

"Well..."

She adjusted her backpack.

"...let's meet Mr. No-Smile."

None of them knew...

that this ordinary Monday was about to become the beginning of a story that would change all of their lives forever.