Rohit sat alone in the corner booth of a modest pizza café tucked inside the sprawling Gurkram mall. His fingers drummed lightly on the table, out of sync with the mellow jazz playing overhead. The scent of melted cheese and oregano wafted through the air, but his appetite was nowhere to be found. His leg bounced slightly under the table—impatience or nerves, even he wasn't sure.
The glass door chimed.
He looked up.
Striding confidently through the entrance was a man who made heads turn—fair skin glowing under the soft lighting, long wavy hair styled with deliberate care. He wore a sharp red shirt tucked neatly into black fitted trousers, white designer sneakers clean enough to blind someone. His posture was upright, every step calculated and smooth, like someone used to walking into rooms and owning them.
It was Sathya.
Rohit blinked, momentarily stunned. His back straightened. This wasn't the Sathya he remembered.
The Sathya he knew used to show up in half-wrinkled T-shirts and sandals, laughing at people who spent money on "shiny fashion." That Sathya hated dressing up. That Sathya didn't glide through a room—he slouched into it.
And yet, here he was. Same face. Very different aura.
Rohit stood, trying to hide the mix of surprise and curiosity tugging at his expression.
"Hey, Sathya... you're looking... different," Rohit said, offering a half-smile as he stepped forward.
Sathya grinned, his white teeth flashing. "Different good?"
Rohit chuckled, eyes scanning him from head to toe. "I'd say your new look looks great on you, mate. You clean up dangerously well."
The two clasped hands, pulling each other in for a crisp, practiced dap-up. Their palms slapped with a sharp, satisfying snap—a sound that echoed years of camaraderie.
"Guess we still got it," Rohit said with a grin.
"Still undefeated," Sathya replied, laughing as they both sat down.
They slid into the booth, the leather seats creaking beneath them. Sathya leaned back, arm slung casually over the top of the bench, exuding ease. Rohit leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, eyes searching.
"So," Sathya began, voice mellowing, "how've you been? After college, you just vanished. No calls. No texts. Not even a meme."
Rohit exhaled slowly, eyes dropping to the table. "Yeah... I wasn't in a great place back then. After, you know... everything happened."
Sathya's smile faded. He nodded slowly, understanding.
"Well i understand . That incident... it was the talk of the college for weeks. You know that, right?"
"I know."
"The class was with you," Sathya added, his voice quieter now. "But no one said anything. Not out loud. Fear makes cowards of decent people. Even me. I'm sorry, man—I should've stood by you."
Rohit offered a faint, awkward smile. One hand rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. "It's alright. I blew things out of proportion, too. Made a mess out of myself."
"You didn't. It was never your fault."
Rohit waved a hand as if brushing away the weight in the air. "Let's not get into all that. Not today. Let's talk about the job."
Sathya leaned forward, tone lightening. "Ah, right. So here's the thing—I'm leaving my current company. Which means I can recommend you for my position."
Rohit's brows shot up. "You're leaving? Why? Got a better offer?"
Sathya smirked. "No. Got a better life."
Rohit blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sathya paused dramatically, then leaned in with a spark in his eyes. "I became Gifted."
Silence.
Rohit's jaw dropped slightly. "You what? You're serious?"
Sathya nodded, a subtle grin spreading across his face. "Yep. Confirmed two weeks ago. "
Rohit let out a low whistle. "Bloody hell… congrats, man. That's huge."
"Thanks."
"So what now?" Rohit asked, leaning in, eyes wide with curiosity. "What's the plan? Gonna join the government? Become a hero? Fly over traffic?"
Sathya laughed. "I don't know yet. But sky's the limit now, isn't it?"
Just then, the café door banged open.
Rohit instinctively turned to look.
A group of four walked in—or swaggered, more accurately. Loud, young, cocky. Gold chains, sleeveless vests, tattoos peeking from under half-rolled sleeves. One of them was chewing gum like it owed him money. The air shifted around them—carefree arrogance mixed with a hint of danger.
Rohit's shoulders tensed.