The night was supposed to be perfect. The college garden gleamed under the golden glow of fairy lights, the black LED dance floor pulsed rhythmically, and the golden confetti pathway led eager freshers into what was promised to be a night of sheer luxury. The mood was set, the music was in sync, and for once—everything was going as planned.
Until Kiya happened.
It started subtly. Kiya, who had been grudgingly put in charge of the photo booth, initially did her job well. She guided students, fixed props, even took some aesthetic snapshots herself. But as the compliments poured in, a dangerous shift took place. Kiya, whose meddling habits had led to her being given this task in the first place, decided that the party needed more of her "creative touch."
"I swear, this booth is the only thing actually working here," she muttered, flipping her hair as she scanned the party.
Her first victim? The gold carpet entrance.
"The entrance looks so... plain. It's missing something dramatic," she declared, before ordering two clueless juniors to sprinkle extra gold confetti everywhere. The result? A dangerously slippery pathway. Within minutes, a poor fresher in high heels took an unfortunate tumble, dragging down three others. A horrified gasp rippled through the crowd.
Jay rushed over. "Kiya! What the hell did you do?"
"I improved it!" she huffed. "It's supposed to look grand, Jay. Don't blame me if people don't know how to walk properly."
Before Jay could argue, another crisis erupted at the mocktail bar.
Kiya, in all her over-the-top wisdom, had decided the drinks were too basic. Inspired by a TikTok video, she poured an extra dose of edible gold dust into the Golden Glow Punch, turning it into a glittery, frothy disaster. Students who took a sip coughed dramatically, their tongues literally sparkling.
Tiya stormed toward her. "KIYA! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE DRINKS?"
"Relax, Tiya! It's just a little more gold dust. It's called luxury."
"People look like they've swallowed fairy lights! Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Meanwhile, at the dance floor, disaster number three was unfolding.
Kiya had overheard someone say that the cold pyro fireworks were going to be set off during the finale. That was too long a wait, in her opinion. What if people left before the real magic happened?
So, she took matters into her own hands.
"Kiya, NO!" Aman's voice rang out as she sneakily activated one of the fireworks early.
BOOM! Golden sparks shot up—right in the middle of the dance floor.
For a split second, the crowd froze, unsure if they were witnessing the grandest spectacle of the night or an actual fire hazard. Then chaos erupted. Students screamed, some sprinted away dramatically, while a few fearless ones actually danced in the golden shower like it was some high-budget music video.
Jay grabbed Kiya's arm. "What is WRONG with you?"
"I just wanted to add a little drama! This party was getting BORING," Kiya shot back, flipping her hair like a diva caught in a scandal.
"BORING? People are sparkling from the inside out, the dance floor almost turned into a battlefield, and someone just SLID into a buffet table because of your 'grand entrance' makeover!"
Kiya pouted. "Okay, fine. Maybe the confetti was a little excessive."
Tiya, who had been trying to salvage the drinks, appeared with a murderous expression. "You're banned from making any more decisions, Kiya."
Aman sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're like an uncontrollable special effect—too much of you and things catch fire."
Just then, as if the universe wasn't done punishing her, Kiya's high heels got caught in the golden confetti pile she had scattered earlier. She gasped dramatically, arms flailing, before falling face-first onto the dance floor—right as the DJ switched to a slow, romantic track.
The entire crowd erupted into laughter.
Kiya, still lying on the ground, groaned. "You know what? Maybe I should've just stuck to the photo booth."
Jay smirked. "Best decision you've made all night."
And with that, the night of gold, glamour, and complete Kiya-induced chaos continued—because no college party is complete without a little bit of drama.