The city never stops, but for some reason, my mind wouldn't let me move on.
Ever since yesterday, ever since seeing her at the park, Riya had been everywhere in my thoughts. I could see her smile when I closed my eyes. I could hear the soft "hi" she had said when I introduced myself.
It was annoying and wonderful at the same time.
I tried focusing on work that morning, but my boss's voice sounded distant. My fingers typed emails mechanically while my mind wandered to the park, to the bus, to the possibility of talking to her again.
I told myself: Stop overthinking. You barely know her.
But stopping wasn't an option.
At lunch, I left my office again, my usual route to the nearby park in mind. Maybe it was a silly habit now—chasing glimpses, hoping to see her by chance—but I needed it.
And there she was.
Riya. Sitting under the same old tree, legs crossed, book in hand. She looked up as I approached, her eyes lighting up with recognition.
"Tom!" she called softly.
"Hey," I said, smiling nervously. My heart was racing as if I'd run a marathon to reach this moment.
We talked. A small, careful conversation at first—weather, traffic, office buildings that made no sense, the endless chaos of the city. Every word felt heavy with curiosity. Every glance meant more than it should.
I wanted to say something more. Something personal. But what?
After a while, I blurted out, "Do you want to grab a coffee sometime? Nearby?"
I immediately regretted it. What if she says no? What if I sound like an idiot?
But she just smiled. That small, soft, unassuming smile that somehow stopped the city around me.
"I'd like that," she said.
My chest felt tight. I nodded, too excited to say anything clever. "Okay… tomorrow?"
She nodded. "Tomorrow works."
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I couldn't focus on work. I didn't want to. All I wanted was to think about our coffee tomorrow, about talking to her again, about seeing that smile.
The Next Day
Morning came too fast. I got ready like it was a big exam. Jeans, casual shirt, sneakers—nothing too much, nothing too little. I stared at myself in the mirror, practicing a casual smile. Relax, Tom. She's just a girl. But… not just a girl, clearly.
The city seemed different that morning. Less chaotic, more personal. I walked toward the coffee shop near the park, my heartbeat keeping pace with my steps.
And there she was.
Riya, leaning against the railing outside, holding a book in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. She looked… perfect. Or maybe not perfect, but real. And that was somehow more striking.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice probably betrayed me.
"Hey," she replied, smiling warmly.
We walked in, found a small table in the corner. Quiet music played in the background. The smell of coffee and pastries made me feel… alive.
We talked.
Not just about the city, the park, or the bus this time.
She told me about her work, the challenges, the moments that made her smile despite stress. I told her about mine, carefully omitting the boring corporate problems and focusing on the little victories, the dreams I wanted to chase.
It was easy. Comfortable. And at the same time, thrilling.
I noticed the small things—how she tucked her hair behind her ear when she laughed, the way she frowned slightly when she thought, how she seemed to really listen when I spoke.
I wanted to memorize everything.
She asked about my hobbies, and I told her about photography. I liked capturing the city—the chaos, the lights, the people who never stopped. She smiled and said she loved photography too, though she rarely picked up a camera.
We laughed over small things, teased each other gently. I felt… happy. Really happy.
And then, there was a silence. Not awkward, not uncomfortable—just a quiet pause filled with awareness of each other.
She looked at me, her eyes soft. "You know… you're easy to talk to, Tom."
My heart skipped. "You too, Riya."
It was strange. I had never felt this calm, this connected, in the middle of a city that never slowed down.
We spent hours there. Not noticing time, not noticing the world outside. Just talking. Just existing in the same space.
The Walk Back
When we finally stepped outside, the sun had started to dip behind tall buildings. The city lights blinked on one by one, like someone turning on stars in a concrete sky.
"I should go," Riya said softly.
"Yeah… me too," I replied.
We walked together for a while, then paused at a corner.
I wanted to say something. Something that would make her smile, something that would let her know I wanted more moments like this.
But I hesitated.
"Tomorrow?" I finally asked.
Her smile returned. "Tomorrow."
And then she was gone, melting into the flow of people like she always had a purpose in the city that didn't include me.
At Home
I couldn't stop smiling. I replayed every moment in my head—the way she laughed, the way she tilted her head, the softness in her voice.
I had known her for less than two days, and yet… I felt a strange connection, as if she had quietly entered a part of my life I hadn't shared with anyone before.
It scared me. And excited me.
The city felt bigger and smaller at the same time. Crowded streets, flashing lights, honking cars—but somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, I had found a small space that felt… like hers.
And maybe mine too.
I knew I wanted more. More time. More talks. More moments where the world stopped for just a little while.
Because something had started. Something I didn't want to end.
Episode 3 Hook:
Who is Riya, really?
Why does her presence make the city feel alive and silent at the same time?
And what will happen the next time Tom and Riya meet?