My name is Disha, and I'm a sophomore at a bustling university in Haryana. From the outside, my life looks pretty normal—classes, assignments, the occasional chat with roommates in the dorm hallway. But no one knows the secret I've been hiding for months. His name is Aryan, and he lives in my room. Secretly. Completely off the grid. He slipped in one night after we met online, a shadowy figure with a laptop and a backpack, promising thrills I'd never imagined. Now, he's my invisible master, working remote gigs from the corner of my tiny single room, chain-smoking cigarettes that fill the air with a hazy, forbidden scent. No one knows he's here. The door stays locked, the curtains drawn. And me? I'm his plaything, molded to his whims every single day.