Chapter 4: Breakups, Chocolate Therapy, and Dreamland

Rohan immediately messaged Priya on WhatsApp to scold her.

[Sneha just isn’t good at the game, why’d you have to roast her?]

Priya sneered, called him a dog, and showed me the chat. Her fingers flew over the screen, sending rapid-fire voice notes laced with sarcasm and the occasional ‘pagal hai kya?’

I got fired up—finally my chance to shine!

I slammed the table, “Break up! If we don’t break up, we’re not Indian!”

Priya looked at me, one eyebrow raised, and then we both broke into a fit of laughter before getting dead serious about our plan. For added drama, I even put on my ‘do not disturb’ hairband.

We exchanged a look, the kind only best friends understand, and did the deed together—unbinding, deleting, then high-fiving like we’d just won the World Cup.

It felt like doing aarti after a particularly tough exam—pure relief. We both touched our foreheads, like Amma does after a big puja, and laughed—no more jadoo-tona, no more notifications ruining chai time.

I even used her account to roast Rohan for a full ten minutes.

But not five minutes after deleting, Priya started to feel regretful.

“Even though Rohan always ignores me, his skills are actually pretty good.”

I poured cold water on her: “He ditches you in fights and sides with other girls against you.”

Priya: “But he’s an Indian server Arjun, it’s pretty cool to show off.”

“He ditches you in fights and sides with other girls against you.”

Priya: “...”

“He ditches you...”

She snapped, cutting me off.

“Alright, alright, I’m not getting back with him! Stop saying it!”

She tossed a pillow at me, pretending to be annoyed, but I could see the relief in her eyes. No boy was worth losing our peace or our gaming streak.

Worried she’d get lovesick and sneakily contact Rohan, I insisted on sleeping over to supervise her.

We curled up under her mum’s heavy quilt, Dairy Milk Silk melting between us, the fan whirring overhead. I even brought my own pink pillow, just in case.

But then my own phone started buzzing. WhatsApp pings, one after another—all friend requests from Kunal.

[What’s going on?]

[Why did you delete me?]

[Why break up? Are you mad? Is it because of Sneha?]

[No way, you broke up with me over my brother’s childhood friend?]

[I can explain.]

[Kabir, talk to me.]

I steeled myself and ignored him.

Sorry, ex-husband.

Even though your voice is nice, your gameplay is good, you might even be handsome, and you’re super generous—

In less than half a month of being bound, you UPI transferred me tens of thousands just for skins…

Wait, at that, I sat up in bed and googled:

[Can you get sued for accepting UPI transfers?]

[How many years in jail for taking money?]

[...]

[How to secretly contact your ex without your best friend finding out?]

Didn’t find a good answer. Sighing, I flopped back into bed.

Priya grumbled, “If you don’t sleep, I’ll kick you out.”

Regretfully, I wrapped myself tighter in the blanket.

Sorry, ex-husband. From now on, we’ll only meet in dreams.

Maybe it’s true that what you think about during the day, you dream about at night.

I actually dreamed about Kunal—he had a handsome face, and I was being super bold with him. His shirt was half off, and I was about to touch his abs—

Suddenly, Priya woke me up.

Her eyes weren’t even open yet, but she started mumbling, “Ugh, nightmare.”

“I dreamed Rohan found me, tied me up in a dark room, and started some forced romance plot, yaar. Kya hi bakwaas!”

I woke up instantly, feigning jealousy.

“You little brat, you got luckier than me.”

I didn’t even get to touch Kunal’s abs.

With all this drama, I completely forgot about Kunal’s message—

[Wait, I’ll give you a big present in person.]

The phone buzzed again—new message, new plot twist incoming.