“Well, we rushed it
Moving away too fast
That we crushed it
But it's in the past
We can make this leap
Through the curtains of the waterfall"
~ Geronimo – Sheppard
The plane touched down just as the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip behind the palm trees, painting California in shades of gold and pink. For Aadyant, it was different from anything he had imagined. India had rhythm, history, and weight—but California... California hummed with possibility.
Aadya's eyes went wide. "Arey yeh toh sach mein crazy hai! Dekh dekho, itni saari Starbucks! Aur woh pizza place bhi!"
(Translation: "Wow, this is seriously crazy! Look, look, so many Starbucks! And that pizza place too!")
Aadyant rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. "Relax, Aadya. Tumhare excitement ka level airport ka signal disturb kar raha hai."
(Translation: "Relax, Aadya. Your excitement level is disturbing the airport's signal.")
"Excitement? Main? Nahi yaar, main toh totally calm hoon..." she said, voice rising, "...bas thoda... okay, maybe thoda excited."
(Translation: "Excitement? Me? No, I'm totally calm... just a little... okay, maybe a little excited.")
He smirked. Classic Aadya. Always dramatic, always loud, always entertaining.
They headed towards the arrival point of the airport and stood there waiting for their driver to arrive. Their car had arrived; they sat down and left for their penthouse.
~
At the penthouse.
The penthouse sat high above the city. Big windows showed the ocean stretching out forever. Inside, everything was clean and white. A gray couch faced the view. The kitchen had shiny counters that no one seemed to use much.
Outside on the balcony, you could see palm trees below and the whole city spreading out. The bedroom had a huge bed and more windows. Even the bathroom had a view of the water.
It was the kind of place that looked expensive but didn't feel like home yet. Too perfect, too empty. Like someone had just bought it but hadn't really lived in it.
Aadyant dropped his duffel bag near the entrance and walked straight to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The view was insane endless ocean, the city sprawling beneath them like something out of a movie. Back home, he had palace courtyards, marble hallways, centuries of history carved into every wall. Here, it was all glass and steel. Modern. Impersonal. Temporary.
He moved through the penthouse slowly, taking it in. Everything was pristine. Sterile, almost. The kind of place designed to impress, not to live in. His father had bought it six months ago "an investment," he'd called it. But Aadyant knew the truth. It was a test.
Suddenly Aadya called out to him from the kitchen, "Oye, bukh lagi hai? Par yahan kuch hai bhi nahi"
(Translation: - Oi, I'm hungry. But we have nothing to eat.)
To which he replied, "Chal kisi restaurant chalte hai. Isi bahane thodi jagah bhi explore kar lenge."
(Translation: - Let's go to some restaurant. We can also explore the place as well.)
He slung his jacket over his shoulder and headed for the door. As it closed behind them, the penthouse fell silent again—too quiet, like it was holding its breath.
The elevator ride down was long and smooth, the kind that made your ears pop slightly. Aadya leaned against the mirrored wall, watching their reflections slide past floor numbers.
"So," she said casually, "how long do you think your dad expects you to stay here?"
Aadyant's jaw tightened, just a fraction. "Long enough to see if I fit," he said. "Or if I break."
She studied him in the reflection now. "And which one do you think will happen?"
He met her gaze, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at his lips. "Depends on the city."
The doors opened to warm evening air and the low hum of traffic. Outside, the city felt alive in a way the penthouse hadn't—streetlights flickering on, music spilling out of open restaurant doors, people laughing, arguing, living.
Aadya inhaled deeply. "Okay," she said, eyes lighting up. "I like this part already."
They walked down the sidewalk, blending into the crowd. For the first time since arriving, Aadyant felt something shift inside him—not comfort, not yet, but possibility. The city didn't know who he was. It didn't care about legacy or expectations.
And maybe that was exactly what made it dangerous.
Somewhere ahead, a neon sign buzzed to life, promising food, noise, and chaos. Aadya tugged his sleeve and pointed.
"That one," she said. "Looks questionable. Perfect, right?"
Aadyant nodded, a genuine smile finally breaking through.
"Yeah," he said. "Perfect."
~
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