🌑 The Perfect Lie
The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, casting rhythmic shadows across the modest living room of the Sood household. Evening sunlight seeped through the worn-out curtains, bathing the room in a dusty gold hue.
Divya sat cross-legged on the sofa, her work tablet balanced on her lap, her phone vibrating quietly against her thigh with a flurry of WhatsApp notifications.
"Beta, have you eaten?"
"Your father is showing your pilot certificate to the neighbors again!"
"We are so proud of you, beti!"
She stared at the messages from her mother, a lump forming in her throat.
A lie. Everything was a lie.
There was no cockpit, no airline captain's badge pinned proudly to her uniform. There was only the crisp, neatly pressed air hostess outfit folded in her suitcase upstairs — the symbol of a job she hadn't even wanted.
Divya leaned back, exhaling slowly.
Inside, guilt gnawed at her. The truth was far from the facade she maintained. She wasn't a pilot; she was a flight attendant, a reality she concealed from her family to protect their pride and dreams.
In another world — the one her parents believed — she was soaring above the clouds, a respected commercial pilot, the pride of her small, middle-class family.
In this world — the real one — she served drinks, adjusted headrests, and smiled endlessly for ungrateful businessmen who barely saw her as more than a moving piece of decor.
All because she had failed.
💔 The Dreams That Died
She had dreamed once.
Dreamed of wearing the captain's uniform. Dreamed of her father's eyes lighting up with pride, her mother boasting about her to the neighborhood aunties, her younger brother — her sweet, secretive little hacker — bragging to his college friends.
Divya's journey began with aspirations of soaring the skies as a pilot. She excelled in academics and sports, earning a scholarship to a prestigious aviation academy. Her family invested their savings, and she took out a substantial loan to cover the remaining expenses.
But flight school had drained every rupee they didn't have.
Her father had taken loans against their tiny two-bedroom flat. Her mother had pawned her heirloom jewelry. And Divya herself had taken out a crushing student loan — interest rates so high, they might as well have been designed to ensure her enslavement.
She passed her commercial pilot license exam.
However, the aviation industry faced a downturn, and job opportunities for new pilots dwindled. The airline recruitments dried up after the scandal in the aviation industry exposed multiple fraudulent certifications. New pilots were seen as liabilities.
When the final rejection email came, she cried in the girls' hostel bathroom until her throat was raw.
And then she made a choice.
Despite her qualifications, Divya couldn't secure a position.
Desperate to support her family and repay her loan.
She accepted the only job that would still have her: an Air Hostess.
A glamorous way of saying — a glorified maid in the sky.
She accepted a job as a flight attendant with Kohinoor Airlines, a decision she kept hidden from her loved ones.
🛫 The Secret Life
Her family didn't know.
When she got hired, she told them she had "finally made it" as a co-pilot for a private airline.
Her mother had sobbed with joy. Her father had opened a bottle of cheap whiskey with the neighbors. Her brother had written her a congratulatory hacking program that auto-sent her inspirational quotes daily.
She smiled through it all.
Faked the uniform in selfies.Photoshopped pilot wings onto her ID badge.Lied. Lied. Lied.
Because if they knew — if they saw her pouring coffee, adjusting seatbelts, smiling at drunken tourists — it would destroy them.
It would destroy her.
Each day, Divya donned a pilot's uniform at home, leaving with a confident stride. At the airport, she changed into her flight attendant attire, blending into the crew. The charade weighed heavily on her, but she couldn't bear to shatter her family's illusions.
The airline's financial instability meant salaries were often delayed. Divya struggled to make ends meet, her loan repayments looming over her like a dark cloud.
🥀Divya's Real World
The airline life was brutal.
Her job was demanding, with long hours and meager pay. Fake smiles. Sexual harassment disguised as compliments. Creepy businessmen slipping room keys into her pockets.
She learned to survive.
She learned to manipulate.
And sometimes, she learned to use her body when she needed to.
She wasn't innocent.
Back in flight school, she had experimented. There were study sessions that ended in sweaty hookups. Late-night parties where inhibitions were lost along with clothes.Four boyfriends. Countless casual flings. Some unforgettable one-night stands with men she barely knows and remembers — just strong arms, whiskey breath, and endless hunger.
And one specific hookup she could never forget: Jaiveer Singh.
🌟Jaiveer Singh – The Forgotten Flame
During a routine flight, Divya encountered Customs Officer Jaiveer Singh, a familiar face from a sports competition in her college days.
They had shared a brief, intimate sex in the boy's locker room, filled with youthful passion and on-the-spot decision that being their first time meeting. After that day, they never met and hadn't exchanged contact information. Seeing him reignited memories she had long buried. She only considered that as a one-time thing, just to relieve her stress and desires of that time during the sports competition, and nothing more.
Just bruised lips, aching thighs, and stress relief.
Jaiveer recognized her instantly, his eyes lighting up. "Divya Rana from Haryana," he greeted with a warm smile.
They exchanged pleasantries, reminiscing about their past. The encounter stirred something within Divya—a longing for simpler times and the comfort of no-strings-attached connections and sexual pleasures.
👀 A Glimpse of Jasmine's Fall
Divya blinked out of her memories.
Back to the present.
Back to the day, Jasmine returned from Dubai — different.
At first, it was subtle:
Jasmine wore lipstick a few shades redder than before.
Her uniform skirts seemed tailored an inch tighter.
Divya noticed. Of course, she noticed.
Jasmine, her senior, friend, colleague, and role model, now exuded a dangerous, magnetic sexuality she couldn't hide.
And Divya felt something she hated herself for: Envy.
🔥 The First Seed of Corruption
The shift grew clearer.
At a late-night crew gathering, Divya caught Jasmine slipping into a booth with two businessmen — laughing, flipping her hair, touching their arms with casual intimacy.
Geeta, still composed, still "respectable," had frowned slightly.
Divya had clung to Geeta's side that night, desperate for the safety of her old world.
But the safety was an illusion.
Because two weeks later, Geeta too would vanish into Dubai and return…
Changed.
🌑 The Weight of the Lies
At home, Divya pretended everything was fine. Divya's mother prepared her favorite dishes, celebrating her "promotion" to co-pilot.
She ate dinner with her parents, smiling as they asked about her "pilot flights." Her father boasted to neighbors about her achievements.
Divya played along, laughter masking her inner turmoil. The weight of her deception grew heavier with each passing day. She yearned to confess, to seek solace in the truth, but fear held her back.
She nodded along when her mother talked about saving for her wedding.
And after dinner, she locked herself in her room.
Pulled out the vibrator she kept hidden at the bottom of her suitcase.
And masturbated to the image of Jasmine's smirk as she reimagined the scene of Jasmine flirting shamelessly. But here in her fantasy, she replaces herself in the place of Jasmine.
To the idea of being wanted that badly.
To the fantasy of giving up control.
And she came.
Hard.
Sobbing into her pillow.
Ashamed.
Needy.
Confused.
🌸 Cracks in the Glass
As she stood on the tiny balcony that night, overlooking the noisy streets of Mumbai, Divya wrapped her arms around herself.
She wasn't innocent.
She wasn't pure.
She was already falling — and she knew it.
The question was:
How far was she willing to go?
And when Ryan's shadow finally touched her life…
Would she even resist at all?