The sun cast a golden glow over the bustling streets of Los Angeles as Alina stepped out of her small apartment, her long black hair cascading down her back like a river of ink. The city, alive with movement and energy, felt like a stark contrast to the quiet town in India where she had spent her teenage years. Yet, there was something comforting about the city's hum—something that made her feel at home, even in this vast expanse of newness.
She inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp morning air, mingling with the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee from the nearby cafés. It was a new day, a new challenge, and it was the kind of beginning Alina had grown to love. Life in Los Angeles wasn't easy, but it was hers—full of possibilities, each day a new chance to build the future she had promised herself and her family.
At 19, Alina had come a long way. She had once been the shy, quiet girl who looked to the past with longing eyes, but now, standing here on the pavement, her heart beat with purpose. She had found a way to move forward, despite the scars of loss that lingered just beneath her skin. Her grandmother, her sister Anaya, and the memories of the love that once filled her world—those were the treasures she held close. They were the reason she got up each morning, ready to face whatever life threw her way.
Her parents, once an extraordinary pair, had been the very definition of a fairytale romance. Her mother, a graceful Indian woman with a heart of gold, had taught her the meaning of kindness and patience. Her father, a strong yet gentle Italian man, had been her protector, her shield against the world. Together, they had shown her what love was meant to be—a force that transcended time, culture, and distance.
But at 12, that world had crumbled. The sudden loss of her parents shattered everything—leaving her and Anaya orphaned, adrift in a sea of sorrow. Their relatives, once so kind, turned their backs on them, taking everything that had once been theirs. Wealth, status—none of it mattered now. All they had left was each other, and the love that had once surrounded them seemed like a distant memory.
Yet, Alina never forgot the love her parents had shared. It was something she carried with her, a quiet longing deep within her soul. A yearning for a love like theirs. A love that would protect her, cherish her, and keep her safe from the harshness of the world. But as much as she longed for that, she feared she would never find it. Not in this world where cruelty often overshadowed kindness. And yet, it was that same longing that pushed her forward—drove her to work tirelessly for the future she dreamed of for herself and her family.
She had promised herself that she would never let Anaya and their grandmother suffer the way they had before. Her biomedical degree was the first step toward a brighter future, one where they could live without fear. The weight of responsibility often felt overwhelming, but Alina refused to be defeated. Her journey had only just begun.
And through it all, she wasn't alone.
Kevin, her childhood friend, had become an unexpected anchor in her life. In him, Alina had found someone who understood the burden of the past, someone who could make her laugh when the darkness seemed to weigh too heavily on her shoulders. He had become her constant. His presence was like a steady rhythm, a heartbeat that kept her grounded. Handsome, confident, and effortlessly charming, Kevin had a way of making everything feel lighter, even when the weight of the world pressed down on them both.
She liked him—more than she cared to admit. But neither of them had said a word about it. Their friendship had blossomed naturally, and though there were moments when their gazes lingered a little too long or their touches felt a little too intimate, they never spoke of the unspoken connection between them. Not yet.
For now, Alina's focus was on her family. Her grandmother and Anaya were coming to Los Angeles soon, and she couldn't wait to have them by her side. Her heart raced with excitement and nerves at the thought. She wanted everything to be perfect for them—every detail meticulously planned, every little thing just right.
That was why she had taken a part-time job at a nearby café. She worked weekends, helping out with bulk orders, and it was a small but steady source of income. Today was one of those days. She glanced at her phone—Kevin had already texted her.
Kevin: "Ready to go, angel?"
A small smile played on her lips. He always called her that. Maybe it was because of her angelic features—black eyes, pink lips, and porcelain skin—a perfect blend of her Indian and Italian heritage. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because to him, she was something special.
She shook off the thought, pushing it to the back of her mind. She had too much to focus on.
Alina: "On my way."
A few minutes later, she stepped out onto the sidewalk, meeting Kevin outside the café. He was leaning casually against his bike, arms crossed, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. As soon as he saw her, a smirk played on his lips.
"Finally," he teased. "I was starting to think you'd ditched me for sleep."
Alina rolled her eyes playfully. "And miss out on making a hundred cupcakes? No way."
"Brownies and cakesicles too," he reminded her with a wink.
She groaned in mock exasperation. "I'm already tired."
Kevin chuckled and, with a fluid motion, pushed himself off the bike and ruffled her hair before she could protest.
"Come on, angel. Let's get to work."
With a deep breath, Alina followed him inside. Despite the exhaustion creeping up on her, she felt a small sense of excitement. Today would be another day of hard work, but it would also be another day closer to the future she was building for her grandmother, her sister, and maybe, just maybe, for herself.
The café was warm, filled with the comforting scent of freshly baked pastries and the hum of quiet conversation. Alina smiled as she joined the others in the back, her hands already working to measure ingredients and prepare for the orders ahead. The day was long, but in the rhythm of the kitchen, in the small moments of laughter and shared smiles, she found a peace she often couldn't find anywhere else. Here, with the familiar sound of clinking trays and the soft murmur of voices, she felt like she was part of something bigger than herself.
The hours passed, and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the café. Kevin and Alina worked side by side, their movements synchronized, the ease of their friendship apparent in every shared glance and quiet joke. The room was filled with trays of brownies, cakesicles, and cupcakes, and despite the work piling up, they tackled each order with steady hands and practiced efficiency.
But as the evening drew on, the mountain of work grew, and they both realized they were far from finished. The last tray of cupcakes hadn't been packaged, the cakesicles were still to be wrapped, and there was still a pile of orders to be delivered. Alina wiped her brow, glancing at the clock. It was getting late, and the task was far from over.
Kevin looked at her, a half-smile playing on his lips, though his eyes showed the same exhaustion she felt. "Looks like we're not quite done yet, huh?"
Alina gave a small laugh, her fingers working automatically as she carefully packaged the next batch of cupcakes. "Not even close."
"Guess we'll have to power through," Kevin said, grabbing a box and joining her at the counter. "At least we're in this together."
The task was big, and as they worked in tandem, the hours seemed to stretch. The kitchen was quiet now, except for the sound of their voices, their movements, and the occasional clink of a box being shut. They didn't speak much as the time wore on—there was something almost peaceful about the process. It wasn't the fast-paced chaos of the day; it was just them, focusing on one box at a time, ensuring everything was neatly packed, and doing their best to finish before the café closed for the night.
As they neared the last batch, Alina's hand froze mid-motion. She glanced at the empty space on the counter, then back at the boxes they had filled. "Kevin..." she started, her voice soft but urgent.
Kevin looked up, brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"
"The brownies," she said, her heart sinking. "We haven't packed them."
Kevin's eyes widened slightly as the realization hit him. He leaned over to check the kitchen shelves, confirming her worry. "Guess we missed them in the rush."
They both let out a quiet sigh, the weight of the mistake settling in. But despite the exhaustion, there was no hesitation in their movements. They gathered the brownies, carefully arranging them into boxes with as much care as they had with everything else.
"Well, what do you say, angel?" Kevin said, his voice warm despite the late hour. "Let's finish this and get out of here."
Alina smiled tiredly, grateful for his presence, for his steady support. "Let's do it."