A contract of convience

Chapter 7: Terms and Conditions apply

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Kyara took slow, cautious steps down the dimly lit staircase, gripping the railing as she descended into the underground workspace. The air carried a faint hum of electronics, and the deeper she went, the more the glow from computer screens flickered through the cracks of the heavy door below.

She knocked hesitantly. The door swung open almost instantly, revealing Rohan’s face.

“Oh, hi! You must be Kyara,” he said, stepping aside. “Come in, come in.”

She stepped inside, scanning her surroundings. Wires tangled across the floor like stray vines, half-empty coffee cups balanced precariously on cluttered desks, and the glow of multiple monitors painted the space in shifting hues. The whole setup felt like the lair of a secret society, albeit one fueled by caffeine and sleep deprivation.

“This is where you both work?” She frowned. “Why is it underground? It’s dark and—”

Her complaint withered the moment she stepped into the main area. Screens blinked with lines of code and fast-moving images, a controlled chaos that thrummed with purpose. A worn-out couch slumped in the corner, clearly a veteran of many late nights.

“Well…” She crossed her arms. “At least it’s functional.”

Niki sat at one of the desks, headphones clamped over his ears, fingers flying across the keyboard. At the sound of her voice, he paused, pulled them off, and turned. For a moment, neither spoke. Their last conversation still lingered like a ghost between them.

“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Hi,” she echoed.

Rohan sighed. “Okay, done with your ‘hi, hi’? Can we move on?” He dragged a stack of papers onto the table and tapped them. “This is the contract. Standard stuff—duration, rules, and whatever else you two cooked up. Review before signing.”

Kyara flipped through the pages, skimming without much interest—until a familiar set of conditions caught her eye.

Flashback – Their First Date

Kyara leaned forward, smirking as she listed her so-called deal-breakers. “I don’t want kids.”

Niki, barely reacting, simply nodded. “Your body, your choice.”

Undeterred, she continued, “I have a lot of male friends, and I’m not changing that after marriage.”

Another nonchalant shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

Kyara narrowed her eyes. “And just so we’re clear, don’t expect me to have any physical relationship with you just because we’re married.”

That finally got a reaction. Niki choked on his water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m not a caveman,” he muttered. “Obviously, your choice.”

She had scoffed then, thinking he wasn’t taking her seriously. But now…

Present

Her head snapped up.

Rohan raised his hands in surrender. “Not me!”

Niki rolled his tongue inside his cheek, fighting back a smirk.

“Well,” he said lazily, “I agreed to these in front of my family. Had to make it official.”

Kyara didn’t wait for him to finish. She grabbed a nearby rubber ball and hurled it at him.

A satisfying thwack landed on his shoulder.

“Ouch!” Niki clutched his arm, voice dripping with mock betrayal. “That hurt!”

“Oh, did it?” Kyara reached for another ball, her grin sharp.

Niki’s eyes flickered with a challenge. “You don’t want to start this, Kyara.”

“Watch me.”

The room exploded into chaos. Rubber balls flew like missiles, ricocheting off monitors and desks. Rohan barely dodged one that zipped past his face.

“Alright, I’m out of this,” he muttered, reaching for his car keys—only for a stray ball to smack him square in the chest.

“What did I do?!” he groaned.

Kyara and Niki paused, exchanged glances—then burst into laughter.

Shaking his head, Rohan stomped toward the door. “I swear, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

As the door shut behind him, the battle simmered into a truce. Kyara dusted herself off, tossing one last playful glare at Niki.

“Let’s sign first.”

“We should,” he agreed.

The pen met paper. The ink dried. No turning back now.

Kyara clapped her hands. “Okay, now, studio tour!”

Niki groaned but followed as she wandered from desk to desk, eyes scanning the screens filled with game concepts. He trailed behind like a reluctant tour guide, hands buried in his pockets.

She paused at one of the monitors, pointing at a character mid-action. “This is so cool! Is this your main character?”

Niki chuckled. She sounded almost… impressed.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping beside her. “Let me show you how he moves in-game.”

He booted up his computer, fingers navigating smoothly through the interface. Kyara leaned in, eyes flickering between the screen and his profile. The way his brow furrowed in focus, the steady timbre of his voice—it was annoyingly distracting.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, nodding absently.

Niki, oblivious, continued demonstrating, unaware of her occasional glances at him instead of the game.

After a while, he leaned back. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll walk you out.”

They stepped outside, waiting for her taxi. The night air was crisp, the streets quiet.

Kyara tilted her head. “So, this is the investment you were hiding?”

Niki rolled his tongue inside his cheek before nodding. “Yeah, it is.”

She crossed her arms. “And let me guess… this is why you agreed to the contract marriage?”

Niki exhaled, looking away for a second. “Indirectly, yeah. There are more factors, though.” A pause. “I don’t want to do my master’s in medicine. If I stay, my father will send me abroad for it. After that, he’ll make me a board member at the hospital.” His jaw tensed. “Then there’ll be no escape.”

Kyara frowned. “Have you tried something else? Like asking for a one or two-year break? Then you could focus on your passion without all this.”

“Of course, I did.” Niki let out a humorless laugh. “For him, taking a break just means I’m being lazy. Unless…” He smirked. “Unless something happens that’s ‘worth’ a break. Like, say… marriage.”

Kyara shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Tell me about it.”

A taxi pulled up. She opened the door, hesitating before turning back.

“Bye.”

Niki shoved his hands in his pockets. “Bye.”

She got in, and the car drove away.

For a long moment, he stood there, staring at the empty street before exhaling and heading back inside.

This contract marriage wasn’t just for show.

It was his only way out.