Vinny had always been invisible, a shadow that passed through the halls of her school and college, unnoticed by most. Born and raised in the crowded streets of Mumbai, she was just another face in the sea of people, but for her, it felt even more isolating. Dark-skinned, with long, wild hair, she had grown up in a middle-class South Indian family, where aspirations were practical, and ambition was quiet. Her family's world was simple—survival and success meant keeping your head down, excelling academically, and not drawing attention.

Her father, a clerk at a local bank, and her mother, a homemaker, had always emphasized education, respect, and discipline over everything else. They had little patience for vanity or frivolous social pursuits

. But Vinny longed for something more—she wanted to be noticed, to be popular, to matter.

In school, she tried. She really did. Vinny would watch the popular girls—the ones with their flawless complexions, expensive clothes, and infectious laughter that seemed to echo across the campus. They moved with a kind of confidence she could only dream of. And Vinny, desperate to break free from the shadow that clung to her, attempted to imitate them.

She begged her mother for clothes that were more fashionable, a little more colorful, a little less traditional. Her mother, confused but wanting to make her daughter happy, scraped together some money to buy her a pair of jeans and a bright top. Vinny thought this would be her moment. She thought that when she walked into class, heads would turn, and people would see her as something more than just the quiet girl in the back of the room.

But they didn't.

Instead, she was met with snickers, whispers, and a few loud laughs. 'Trying to be someone you're not, Vinny?' one of the popular girls had said, her words dripping with sarcasm. Vinny's cheeks burned as she lowered her head, pretending not to hear.

From that day on, Vinny gave up on trying to stand out. If being noticed meant being ridiculed, she would rather remain invisible. It was easier that way, she told herself. She could fade into the background, blend in, and no one would notice if she wasn't there.

In college, things didn't change much. She had hoped that as she grew older, people would mature, that they would look past the surface and see her for who she was. But the cliques remained. The groups of girls and boys who had been popular in school still held their reign in college, while Vinny found herself on the outside, looking in.

She often sat alone in the college cafeteria, books open in front of her, pretending to be engrossed in her studies. But her mind always wandered to the conversations happening around her, to the laughter she longed to be a part of. Every now and then, she would catch someone staring at her. She could feel their eyes on her dark skin, judging her. It was as though her very existence was something to be pitied or mocked.

'Why don't you make friends, Vinny?' her mother would ask her every now and then, concern lacing her voice. 'You're such a bright girl. People would like you if you just tried.'

Tried. That word echoed in Vinny's mind. She had tried, hadn't she? She had tried to fit in, tried to be like everyone else, but all it had brought her was laughter at her expense. Her mother didn't understand. No one did.

Vinny learned to shield herself behind a mask of indifference, but inside, she still carried the wounds of rejection. The worst part, Vinny thought, was that people assumed she didn't care. They assumed that because she sat alone, because she kept to herself, she must have chosen that life. But the truth was, she hated it. She hated the loneliness that gnawed at her insides. She hated being the girl who was never invited to parties, who was never asked to sit with anyone during lunch. She hated that her dark skin and her middle-class.

All she crave for was to be seen. To be felt important, To be called a friend. Or in her delusional world , to be called a best friend.

She saw other people who she called her best friends Had a group of friends. Actually, multiple group of friends, but she Wasn't a part of any. She didn't fit in I guess. Or maybe she wasn't accepted.

She tried attending parties, Joining committees that her friends had joined, Volunteering for events, participating in sports and cultural functions. Each and everything. For what? Just. To. Be. Known.

At an age, where people make friends that lasts for years and years, A friendship that their Children hear about, She was struggling to even make one friend. Too difficult for a young girl, right?

Vinny Belong to a conservative South Indian family, where talking to boys was also a sin. So being friends with them? Let's just consider it as a taboo. So it All boiled down to girls. Well to Vinny's bad luck, The girls she met at that age were all mean and rude To which people Covered it as " Teenage hormones". Well, Vinny was also of same age, and she was the epitome of kindness and pure heart, as how a kid of that age should be. Does this teenage hormone gives someone right to be rude on judgemental Or the authority to look down on someone just because they are dark, or doesn't hail

from a wealthy family, who would bring McDonald's for lunch? She questioned This every day….