INT. SMALL APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – EVENING
The apartment screams "struggling millennial" – mismatched furniture, fairy lights covering electrical issues, and a plant that's somehow both overwatered and dying. Two best friends, ANANYA (26, sarcastic, wearing an old college t-shirt like it's haute couture) and RIYA (25, dramatic, has never met a situation she couldn't over-analyze), are sprawled on a couch that's seen better decades.
A bag of chips spills between them. Netflix is paused on a show neither remembers starting. Riya's phone buzzes incessantly.
RIYA (staring at phone in horror)
Why do men think sending "wyd?" at 2 a.m. is the modern equivalent of Shah Rukh's airport scene?
ANANYA (deadpan, crunching chips)
Because they think punctuation is foreplay and proper grammar is marriage material.
Riya's phone buzzes again. She shows Ananya the screen.
RIYA Look at this! "Hey beautiful, you up?" It's Tuesday! At 2:17 AM! What am I up for? Existential crisis and instant noodles?
ANANYA (grabbing the phone)
Oh God, it's that guy. The one who thinks "entrepreneur" means selling protein powder on Instagram.
RIYA (defensive)
He has 50,000 followers!
ANANYA His mom and 49,999 bots don't count, Riya.
Riya whacks Ananya with a cushion. Her phone buzzes again.
RIYA (reading)
"You're different from other girls."
ANANYA (mockingly)
Ah yes, the battle cry of men who've never actually met other girls.
RIYA (suddenly animated)
You know what I replied last time someone said that? I said "Yeah, I have a functioning frontal lobe."
ANANYA And he said?
RIYA (deflated)
"That's hot. Send pics."
They both stare at each other in horrified silence, then burst out laughing.
ANANYA This is why I've given up. My dating life is now me, Netflix, and pretending I don't hear my neighbors... being neighbors.
RIYA (suddenly serious)
Speaking of giving up, my mom called today. Apparently, Mrs. Sharma's daughter got engaged. Again.
ANANYA (groaning)
Not the Sharma comparisons!
RIYA (in her mother's voice)
"Riya beta, she's only 24 and already on her second engagement! You're 25 and can't even keep a plant alive!"
They both look at the dying plant in the corner.
ANANYA To be fair, that plant is having an existential crisis. Very relatable.
RIYA Mom also asked when I'm going to "settle down." I'm like, settle down where? This economy? I can't even settle my credit card bills!
ANANYA (sarcastically)
Right? Let me just settle down in my imaginary house with my fantasy salary and my fictional savings account.
Ananya's phone pings with a notification.
ANANYA (checking phone, horrified)
Oh no. LinkedIn notification. Someone I went to college with just got promoted to "Senior Vice President of Strategic Initiatives."
RIYA What do you even strategically initiate?
ANANYA Meetings about meetings, probably.
RIYA (dramatically flopping back)
Remember when we thought by 25 we'd have our lives figured out? We'd be like those girls in movies with apartments that cost more than our annual salaries and jobs that involve looking thoughtful while holding coffee?
ANANYA (looking around their chaos)
Plot twist: we ARE those girls. Just the Netflix adaptation where everything's more realistic and significantly more broke.
Riya suddenly sits up, eyes wide.
RIYA Oh! Speaking of broke, you still owe me for that overpriced organic face mask that was supposed to change our lives.
ANANYA The one that made us look like angry avocados?
RIYA That's the one! ₹800 down the drain. Literally. It all washed off.
ANANYA (defensive)
You said it would give us "glass skin"!
RIYA I didn't say it would make us look like broken glass!
They both dissolve into giggles. Riya's phone buzzes again.
RIYA (checking phone)
Oh great, now he's sending shirtless gym selfies. Why do they think flexing in a bathroom mirror is attractive? The toilet's right there!
ANANYA (examining the photo)
Is that... is that a motivational poster behind him that says "Live, Laugh, Lift"?
RIYA (reading)
Oh my God, his bio says "Looking for my queen." Sir, this is Bumble, not a medieval kingdom!
ANANYA (mockingly romantic)
"Fair maiden, dost thou even lift?"
They're both crying with laughter now.
RIYA (wiping eyes)
You know what? Maybe we should just become those aunties who judge everyone else's life choices and feed stray cats.
ANANYA (considering this seriously)
That actually sounds peaceful. Plus cats don't send unsolicited photos.
RIYA (grinning wickedly)
Also, speaking of life choices, you still owe me ₹2,000.
ANANYA (suspicious)
For WHAT?
RIYA Therapy sessions. Because being your best friend is basically unpaid emotional labor with a side of trauma.
ANANYA (throwing chips at her)
I'll pay you when you stop stalking your ex's Instagram stories at 3 AM!
RIYA (caught)
I was just checking if he's happy! For closure!
ANANYA For the fifteenth time this week?
RIYA I'm very thorough with my closure process!
They're both laughing hysterically now, throwing chips at each other. The dying plant somehow looks judgmental.
ANANYA (looking at plant)
Even the plant thinks we're disasters.
RIYA (to plant)
Don't judge us! At least we're hydrated!
They look at empty water bottles.
BOTH We should drink water.
Neither moves.
RIYA (checking phone)
New match! Maybe someone normal?
Her face falls.
RIYA "Netflix and chill?" It's 7 PM Tuesday. Sir, I AM Netflix and chill.
ANANYA That's why we're perfect. Broke, chaotic, unrealistic.
RIYA To being beautifully dysfunctional!
ANANYA To friendship without good life choices!
They clink their chip bags together ceremoniously.
FADE OUT ON: Their laughter echoing as the camera pans to show their gloriously messy apartment, the judgmental plant, and two phones buzzing with more notifications they'll probably regret reading.
END SCENE
Because adulting is hard, but laughing about it together makes it bearable……