The knock on the door was so polite, it felt illegal.
Mira opened it to find Diya Marters, her best friend since high school, standing there with a smile that could guilt-trip a thunderstorm into behaving. Diya was the only person Mira had ever met who could pull off a linen blazer over joggers and somehow make it a statement.
"You look like you slept on sarcasm and caffeine again," Diya said, stepping in with the confidence of someone who had definitely helped pick the apartment in the first place—and maybe even bullied the landlord into lowering the deposit.
Mira grunted. "Not everyone owns a restaurant and runs on stable income and organic snacks."
"Correction," Diya said, sliding off her sunglasses, "my parents own the Marters food chain. I'm just the exhausted heiress trying to keep the one decent outlet running without getting disowned."
She plopped a brown paper bag onto the tiny kitchen counter like it was an offering to the broke gods. "Delivery for Miss Frugality. Also known as: please eat something that didn't come from a vending machine."
"I'm paying for this," Mira said immediately.
Diya raised an eyebrow. "No, you're working for it. The morning shift. You said you wanted a third job?"
Mira blinked. "Wait… You're hiring me?"
Diya shrugged, casually sipping a smoothie. "You came to me, remember? You deliver the food. I pay. You eat real meals. We call it capitalism."
"You're tricking me into accepting help."
"I'm tricking you into employment. There's a difference. Now eat before I feel the urge to Venmo you behind your back."
Mira sighed but unwrapped the sandwich like it was an offering.
Just then, a door creaked open from the hallway. "Do I smell actual food?" came a voice.
Diya turned toward the noise, catching sight of Zoya, Mira's roommate, emerging from her bedroom, hoodie pulled halfway over her head.
"This is Zoya," Mira said. "Ignore the gremlin vibe—she works at a gaming company, lives off caffeine and code, and I'm pretty sure she photosynthesizes with screen light."
Zoya yawned. "If you bring food often, I will like you."
"Duly noted," Diya said, offering a knight's bow.
Tasha poked her head around the corner next. "Is this the famous Diya? We were beginning to think you were imaginary. Like Mira's savings account."
"Wow," Mira muttered. "Betrayal."
"Charmed," Diya said smoothly.
"This is Tasha," Mira said with a chuckle. "A sophomore at a prep fashion university. She has a gift for making even laundry-day outfits look editorial."
Finally, Nina shuffled out of her room, clutching a potted succulent and wearing an expression that said she had no idea what was going on—but was emotionally invested anyway.
"Mira's bestie?" Nina asked. "Cool. We were going to burn sage later for the utility bill spirits. You're welcome to join."
Diya blinked. "Do the spirits accept debit cards?"
Everyone laughed.
"This is Nina," Mira added. "A final-year psych major. She's kinda the glue of this chaotic household."
"More like our mom ", Tasha added.
Later, at the door…
Diya slung her purse over her shoulder and adjusted her ponytail. "I'll text you the delivery schedule. You're starting tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah," Mira said, walking her to the hallway. "Thanks, Di."
"For what?"
"Just because."
Mira and Diya had never been the type to get all gooey with feelings, so the words were hard to put into a full sentence. But Diya understood—Mira appreciated all of this.
Diya smiled. "That's what friends do. Now go back inside before your roommates summon a demon to fix the Wi-Fi."
But just as she turned to leave, Elliot stepped out of his apartment, laundry basket in one hand, earbuds hanging around his neck, and hair still damp from a probably-too-cold shower.
He paused when he saw Mira.
"Oh, hey," he said, nodding toward her and Diya.
Mira froze for a second, just long enough for Diya's eyes to narrow with immediate curiosity.
"Neighbor?" she asked in a low voice, with a smirk.
Mira cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah. Elliot. He's cool."
Diya gave Elliot a head-to-toe scan. "Hi. I'm Diya. Mira's friend. The one who keeps her fed and vaguely employable."
Elliot smiled. "Appreciate the public service."
"You're welcome," Diya said with a grin. Then leaned toward Mira, "He's cute."
Mira groaned. "Goodbye, Diya."
Diya winked. "See you tomorrow".
As she disappeared down the stairs, Elliot glanced back at Mira, lifting an eyebrow. "Friend of yours?"
Mira rolled her eyes. "Yup. And now also my boss."
He chuckled. "Tough break."
She smirked. "You have no idea."