Open Doors, Open Hearts
The ceiling fan creaks overhead in lazy, uneven rotations, pushing warm air around Poonam's tiny room without actually cooling anything. Outside her window, Mysore Colony hums with its usual midnight sounds—a stray dog barking somewhere near the tea stall, the distant rattle of a night bus, a neighbor's television playing an old film too loud. None of it registers. Her whole world has narrowed to the glow of her phone screen and the impossible string of messages sitting inside it.
BTS + TXT + Us (unofficial name, please rename this Yoongi)
That's what the group chat is called, because three months ago, in a fit of giddy disbelief, Khushi had typed it in at two in the morning and nobody had bothered to change it since. Poonam scrolls up through the day's conversation—a meme Jimin sent about cats knocking things off tables, Beomgyu's rambling voice note about a dream he had involving giant strawberries, Namjoon's dry one-line reply that somehow made the whole chat erupt into laughing emojis for ten minutes straight.
She still doesn't quite believe it's real.
Three months. Three months since she and Khushi had slipped through a door they weren't supposed to open, chasing the…
