Tasha Azmeen, the youngest daughter of the prestigious Azmeen family, was the kind of beauty that made silence fall in a crowd.
Her crystal-clear deep hazel bluish green eyes gleamed like ocean glass under sunlight. Her pink lips were delicate, like rose petals kissed by dew. Her skin was soft and porcelain white, untouched by the harshness of the world. And her long, silky ash blonde hair fell down to her hips like golden silk spun by angels themselves.
She walked into the luxurious ballroom wrapped in a designer silk gown that shimmered under the chandelier lights. Her entrance was like a dream unfolding — flipping her hair from the front in a dazzling, confident way. Her laughter rang like windchimes, and eyes turned toward her, magnetized by her presence.
Tasha was a force of contradiction — childish and daring, innocent and clever, soft and bold. A playful angel in a world too ordinary for her.
That night, Adam saw her for the first time. The moment his eyes landed on her, something inside him shifted. He couldn't look away. With a mix of nerves and curiosity, he finally gathered the courage to approach her.
But fate had other plans.
As he made his way through the crowd, someone brushed past him. He lost his balance — and in a single horrifying moment, the mango slush he held went flying.
Splatter.
Bright yellow stains bloomed across the front of Tasha's silk gown.
Tasha gasped, frozen in place. Then her eyes snapped up at the stranger.
"Are you kidding me? My dress!" she burst out, her voice high and trembling.
Adam turned pale. "I—I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking, it just—"
Her lips quivered with frustration, and she held back tears. "Seriously? Do you even know how much this dress costs?"
Adam opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Tasha gave him a death glare before storming off toward the restroom, mumbling under her breath, "Unbelievable."
Her friends rushed after her. "Tasha, breathe! It's okay!"
She huffed, wiping at the silk with tissues. "No, it's not okay! This night is ruined. I'm leaving."
But just as she stepped out of the restroom, Adam stood there awkwardly, guilt weighing down his shoulders.
"Wait," he said. "Please. I'm really sorry. Let me drop you home at least."
Tasha looked him over. He wasn't smug or overconfident. Just… sincere. That softened her anger — a little.
"Fine," she said flatly. "But don't expect me to thank you."
In the car, the silence was thick at first.
Adam gripped the wheel, then cleared his throat. "I really didn't mean to spill that. I was nervous… I mean—new crowd."
Tasha glanced at him, slightly amused. "You always ruin expensive dresses when you're nervous?"
Adam laughed nervously. "Just once, I hope."
A small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
"I'm Tasha," she said, voice a bit more relaxed now.
"Adam," he responded with a quick glance. "So… what do you do when you're not at glamorous parties wearing dresses I ruin?"
She chuckled. "Marketing major. You?"
"Business," he said. "But don't ask me about numbers. I suck at them."
"Noted," she grinned. "Stick to apologies and maybe you'll do better."
The car filled with warm laughter as the tension melted away. Adam couldn't believe his luck. She was beautiful, yes — but it was her wit and sparkle that left him stunned.
As they pulled up outside her mansion, Adam hesitated.
"So… could I maybe get your number?"
Tasha raised an eyebrow, her playful side back in full form. "If you want to talk to me again, find out yourself."
She stepped out of the car, flipped her hair, and walked away like a scene from a film — leaving him stunned and smiling like a fool.
The next morning, Tasha was running late. She rushed through her routine — no time for makeup, barely brushed her hair. She skipped breakfast as her mother shouted from downstairs.
"Tasha! Not again! First you come home late, now you're leaving without breakfast?"
Tasha grabbed her bag and replied mid-sprint, "I'm fine, Mama! Love you, bye!"
Her friends were waiting in the car, honking lightly.
"Wow, Sleeping Beauty's finally awake," one teased.
Tasha flopped into the seat. "Don't start."
Another friend leaned forward. "So? The mango slush guy? Adam, right?"
Tasha grinned. "What about him?"
"Oh come on, we saw the way he looked at you!"
Tasha laughed, flipping her hair. "Please, I'm not that easy to impress. I'm Tasha Azmeen — silver spoon, youngest of the Azmeen legacy. Let him make some real effort."
"Oooh, someone's enjoying the attention!" another friend sang.
"I mean," Tasha said dramatically, "can you blame him?"
The girls burst into laughter as the car sped toward campus.
At college, as she stepped out of the car, someone bumped into her.
"Still late as always, huh?"
She looked up — Ryan.
Her childhood best friend. The one person who knew her even when her braids were crooked and her knees were scraped.
Tasha grinned. "Still lurking around the entrance like a lost puppy, huh?"
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Excuse you, I was here to meet someone important. Clearly, I overestimated."
They both laughed, slipping into that familiar rhythm like no time had passed.
Some strangers collide with disaster.
Others collide with destiny.
.