Kavya freezes. That girl is her — at 17.

Kavya scoffs. She lives alone, parties alone, and feels nothing.

Her boss, , hands her a new project: a photoshoot titled “Ageless.” Kavya rolls her eyes. “Youth is a marketing gimmick.”

Kavya hugs her. And whispers: “I choose both.”

A luxury car splashes through the wet streets of Bandra. Inside, , a successful but emotionally frozen fashion editor, stares blankly at her phone. Her mother’s voice echoes from a voicemail: “Beta, you’re 28. When will you become a jaaneman, not just a jawani?”

“Then why is your heartbeat rising? Why do you miss the girl who cried listening to A.R. Rahman? Why haven’t you smiled truly in three years?”