tere jaisa yaar kahan

The charity gala was a dazzling affair, the glittering chandeliers and polished marble floors a testament to the event's exclusivity. Shubman adjusted his cuffs nervously, scanning the room as Ishan teased him about his fifth wardrobe adjustment of the evening.

"You look fine, Shubi. Stop ruining the fine GUCCI embroidery with your clammy hands," Ishan said, a playful smirk on his lips.

Before Shubman could retort, a sharp, familiar voice cut through the low hum of chatter.

"Shubman!"

Both men turned as Sara approached, the red of her gown as bold as her smirk. Ishan stiffened instinctively beside Shubman, but his friend straightened his spine, visibly forcing a polite smile.

"Sara," Shubman greeted with restrained civility.

"I was wondering when I'd see you tonight," she said smoothly, her eyes flicking briefly to Ishan before settling back on Shubman. "You've been hard to pin down lately."

"I've been busy," Shubman replied, his tone neutral.

"Yes, I've heard," she said, her lips curling as she crossed her arms. "Must be nice to have the freedom to focus on your career without... distractions."

Ishan could practically feel the venom dripping from her words. Sara's eyes flitted to him again, her meaning clear. You're the distraction.

"Excuse me?" Ishan started, but Sara barreled on.

"You know," she said with a syrupy tone, "I always admired your loyalty to your friends, Shubman. Even when it costs you other relationships."

That was the final straw. Ishan stepped forward, his easy grin gone, replaced by a sharp edge.

"Funny you should bring that up, Sara," Ishan interjected smoothly. "Didn't you publicly retract that statement after it backfired? Something about realizing how baseless it was?"

Sara's smirk faltered for just a moment before she recovered. "I was misquoted," she said lightly. "But I'm sure you'd know all about public scrutiny, wouldn't you, Ishan? Considering your... recent career revival?"

Ishan's jaw clenched, but he smiled, the kind that didn't reach his eyes. "I suppose I would. Success has a way of silencing doubters, don't you think?"

Shubman glanced at Ishan, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. Before Sara could retort, Ishan smoothly placed his hand on Shubman's lower back, guiding him toward the dance floor.

"If you'll excuse us, Sara," Ishan said, his tone dripping with finality, "I'd hate to keep - my date -Shubi from enjoying his evening."

Shubman let himself be steered away, glancing over his shoulder briefly at Sara, whose carefully composed expression had cracked just slightly.

"You didn't have to do that," Shubman murmured as they reached the dance floor.

"Yes, I did," Ishan replied firmly. His hand lingered on Shubman's waist, and he leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. "Besides, what's a fake date for if not rescuing you from bitter exes?"

Shubman chuckled despite himself. "Ha fake ha yeah. A fake date who's awfully convincing tonight."

"Better believe it! Besides, sometimes it is no fun being mature and taking the high road. Sometimes you have to give it back to these yappers" Ishan teased but his tone held a slight edge.

"Yappers - isn't that GenZ slang? Mr. I-only-text-full-sentences" Shubman quipped.

"I am young at heart - and in other avenues of life too Shubi" Ishan retorted, his words holding a suggestive nuance.