Prologue
Trisha’s POV:
I was scrolling through f*******: on my new Android phone—a gift from my parents when I joined college. Living in a small town in India, I found myself spending more and more time online, especially on f*******:, looking for friends from different parts of the world.
For the past three months, ever since I got this phone, I've been secretly hoping to find a boyfriend. But no luck so far. Living in a small town and studying in an all-women’s college didn’t exactly help my chances. So here I was, using f*******: as my window to a wider world.
One day, as I mindlessly scrolled through profiles, I came across someone who caught my eye. His name was Simbu. According to his profile, he was from India but currently studying to become a pilot in New Zealand.
Curious, I clicked on his pictures. He looked tall, with warm brown skin, thick eyebrows, and pink lips beneath a sharp nose. His face had a rugged charm—not clean-shaven, but with a neatly trimmed beard that made him look mature yet approachable. There was something about his spiky hairstyle and confident smile that made my heart skip a beat.
But what truly fascinated me were his photos from flying lessons. Seeing him in a pilot's uniform, taking control of an aircraft—it was captivating. I couldn’t resist and sent him a friend request.
Then came the waiting game. Would he accept it? What if he didn’t? And if he did, what would I even say to him?
An hour passed with no response. I pushed my phone aside and tried to distract myself with chores. After lunch, I finally sat down in my room and picked up my phone again. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the notification: Simbu has accepted your friend request.
Butterflies danced in my stomach, and before I could overthink, I saw a message notification pop up: Hi.
It was him. Simbu.
My palms felt clammy as I typed out a reply: Hi, I’m Trisha. My cousin is planning to study in New Zealand, and when I came across your profile, I thought you might be able to help us out.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. My cousin Shelly had been exploring options for studying abroad, so I used that as my excuse to start a conversation.
He replied almost immediately. Oh, sure! I’d be happy to help in any way I can.
Relieved, I smiled at my phone. The conversation had officially begun.
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Trisha: I saw your pictures. They’re really interesting! I’ve never had the chance to talk to a pilot before.
Simbu: Oh, is that so? Well, I’m not officially a pilot yet—still in my final year of training.
Trisha: Oh, I see. (I quickly googled the time difference between India and New Zealand.) Did you have breakfast yet?
Simbu: Yes, I did. I’m just getting ready for class now. I’ll ping you when I’m free.
Trisha: Okay! (Great, Trisha. Way to look desperate.)
I ended the chat feeling both embarrassed and a little thrilled. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. To make sure I had something to talk about next time, I immediately called my cousin Shelly to ask her about her New Zealand student visa process.
“Shelly,” I said, “tell me everything about studying in New Zealand. I need details—just in case.”
She laughed but obliged, giving me enough talking points to use the next time Simbu and I chatted. This was how our conversation started, but little did I know, it was just the beginning.
