amaraxgujral

[amaraxgujral]

Amara arched an eyebrow as Alev reached for the infamous red folder, arms crossing in smug satisfaction like she’d just won a very familiar bet. “See? Some things never change. We both might have moved cities, changed banks, and learned how to stomach networking breakfasts, but I still know where you hide the important stuff—intentionally or not.”

She stepped closer, gently moving a pile of wayward receipts out of her friend’s path before they staged a paper avalanche of their own. “And hey, I wasn’t joking about the forensic audit. Give me enough espresso and a quiet room, and I could probably find your entire Q1 archive from three years ago.” A faint smirk touched her lips. “But if it comes down to a psychic, just warn me first—I draw the line at crystal balls in conference rooms.”

Then, more softly, less teasing: “You’ll find it. You always do. Just try not to drown in the paperwork before you close the deal, yeah?” She nodded at the folder in Alev’s hands. “Go on, open it. Let’s see if I’m still batting a thousand.”

"Please don't remind me about that disaster." Alev winces, remembering how her entire presentation scattered across the street like some academic snowstorm. "I still have nightmares about chasing those papers through traffic." She actually laughs despite the current chaos, because Amara's right about the déjà vu thing. Same panic, same mess, probably same stupid mistakes. The red folder comment hits home though. That unmarked folder sitting on her shelf like it's mocking her organisational skills. She never labels anything properly because she's convinced she'll remember. Spoiler alert, she never does. "Fine, you win. The red folder it is." She reaches for it, feeling slightly ridiculous that Amara knows her filing disasters better than she does. "And honestly, a forensic audit might be overkill, but at this point I'd take a bloody psychic if they could find this contract." The folder feels promising in her hands. "Though if you're offering your detective services, I won't say no."

[amaraxgujral]

closed for @lorcnzo location: imperial corporation bank

Amara didn’t bother knocking—she never did with Lorenzo. If she was showing up at his office mid-morning, it wasn’t a social call. But the curve of her mouth as she stepped inside carried a trace of something unspoken. Familiar. Intentional. “If I said I brought you coffee, would that earn me five minutes of your patience or just set the bar too high?” she asked, lifting her own cup like a toast before sliding into the seat across from his desk—no extra cup in sight.

She set the folder down between them, deliberately angled toward him. “Halberstam Group wants another shot at Eastland. They're trying this new thing—sounding reasonable. I’m not sure if I should be impressed or insulted.” Her gaze lingered on him a beat longer than strictly necessary, eyes sharp but amused.

“I figured you’d want in before I start politely dismantling their proposal. You know—teamwork.” A faint smile ghosted her lips. “Unless you were planning to enjoy a peaceful day, in which case I can find someone else to ruin mine with.”

[amaraxgujral]

Amara nodded slowly, not out of politeness but in real understanding. She could read a room—and a person—well, and Elisa’s guarded openness wasn’t something she took lightly. “Believe me, the last thing I want is to bulldoze anything,” she said. “You’ve built something real here, and I’m not here to fix what isn’t broken. I’m here because I believe in what you’ve already proven works.” She folded her hands in her lap, her voice calm but certain. “And yes—strategic planning, absolutely. Funding, of course. And networking? That’s one of the only things this job has taught me to do effortlessly. If I can open doors or put you in rooms with people who have the influence and resources to expand your reach, I will.” Her gaze softened, tone dipping into something a little more personal now.

“What you said about trust? That matters to me. I don’t want to be another name on a donor wall. I want to be someone your team and the women you serve can count on—not to lead, but to support. Quietly, if that’s what’s needed. Actively, if that’s what helps.” Then, with the faintest wry smile: “Besides, if I’m putting my name and capital on the line, I’d much rather help shape the impact than sit in a boardroom speculating about it secondhand.” She paused, then added more gently, “But only if you want that kind of partnership.”

"Good," Elisa said, feeling some tension leave her shoulders. "Because I've seen what happens when people with good intentions bulldoze their way into established operations." She'd watched three other nonprofits in Chicago collapse under well-meaning interference from board members who thought they knew better. "And you're right about not wanting to be completely silent ... that would be weird for someone putting up real money." The part about carrying weight resonated more than she wanted to admit. Last month she'd handled intake calls because two of her locations were at capacity and she couldn't turn away a mother with twin toddlers. Having someone who understood the actual workload instead of just writing checks could change everything for her operations and her sanity. "I appreciate you acknowledging the trust factor," she continued. "These women have been failed by systems before. Some of them took months to even walk through our doors." Expanding was appealing; she was getting calls weekly from areas beyond her reach but she couldn't just commit. There were factors she had to think about. "Does this partnership mean you'd help with strategic planning, funding, maybe networking with other organizations?"

[amaraxgujral]

Amara leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the paper storm unfold with something between concern and amusement. The chaos was impressive—even by Alev standards. “You know, I was going to make a joke about déjà vu, but I think this is déjà vu. Pretty sure I saw this exact panic in our third-year negotiation class when your entire folder went through the revolving doors at Queen and Bay.” Her tone was light, but her eyes were already scanning the mess with a quiet efficiency, clocking where things didn’t belong. “Breathe, Alev.” She stepped in, moving a precariously stacked pile of forms out of the way. “No one hides things from themselves better than you. Check the red folder—the one you never label because you 'swear you’ll remember what’s in it.’” She crouched slightly, peeking under the desk. “And if it did disappear into thin air, I’ll call in a forensic audit. We’ll find the damn thing.”

closed starter : @amaraxgujral !!

where : her office !!

"No, seriously, I had it right here this morning." Alev pulls open another drawer, papers spilling everywhere. "The contract just doesn't disappear into thin air." Her office looks like someone detonated a filing cabinet. Every surface is covered in documents, and she's starting to panic because this particular contract represents months of negotiations. She shoves aside a stack of invoices, then checks under her monitor for the third time. "I swear I'm not usually this disorganised." She finally glances up at Amara, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Okay, maybe I am, but not with important stuff like this." The whole day feels like it's conspiring against her. She rifles through another pile of paperwork, growing more frustrated by the second. =

[amaraxgujral]

Amara eased onto the bench with a quiet exhale, stretching out one leg in front of her as if sitting still was a compromise she wasn’t fully used to making. She arched a brow at his comment about pride and the weather, lips tugging into a dry smile. “Dangerous, yes—but weirdly useful when you’ve made a career out of pretending you’re never tired, never wrong, and never sweating through your blouse at eight in the morning.” She reached up, tying her ponytail a little tighter, letting the silence settle between them just long enough to not feel awkward.

“Stubborn optimism’s been my brand for years. Gets you far—until your body reminds you you’re not invincible.” Her tone wasn’t self-pitying, just matter-of-fact. Like someone who’d learned to make peace with limits but didn’t always like being reminded they were there. She glanced over at him, catching the way he’d wiped his forehead. “Glad I’m not the only one pretending the sun isn’t winning today.”

"Just good timing, I think," he said, taking his water bottle back and capping it. "And yeah, pride's a pain in the ass. Mine keeps telling me I should be able to handle whatever weather throws at me." He walked alongside her toward the bench, grateful for the excuse to stop himself. The heat was really getting to him today too, more than he wanted to admit. Market forecasts—that was interesting. Most people didn't casually drop financial references during casual conversation, but she said it like it was second nature. "Stubborn optimism's got to be one of the most dangerous personality traits out there," he added as they reached the bench. "Right up there with thinking you can outsmart the weather." He settled down, wiping sweat from his forehead with his shirt. The shade felt incredible after that last stretch in direct sunlight. She seemed like someone who was used to pushing through things, which he could relate to. Even if you wanna keep going, sometimes you just gotta know when to stop.

[amaraxgujral]

As she slipped into the seat across from him, blazer folded over her arm and a touch of city-wind still clinging to her hair. She hadn’t even looked at the menu yet—her attention was already on him, on the way he was poking at his noodles like they’d personally offended him. “I’ll order in a second,” she murmured, almost as an afterthought. “Looks like you’ve been here a while though,” she commented, the apologetic tone in her voice evident. When he answered her question with “I’m doing alright,” she tilted her head slightly—not enough to challenge him, just enough to register that she heard the way he said it. Heard what he wasn’t saying.

“You always did let ‘busy’ carry the weight of too many things,” she said gently, folding her hands on the table between them. “I’m not going to press you on it. But you know I see it, right?”And when he asked about her own words, her mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “What did I mean?” she echoed, like she was testing the question before answering it. Her eyes dropped briefly to the table, then lifted back to him, steady now.

“I meant that I’ve spent a lot of years choosing work because it was the one thing that didn’t disappoint me. It gave back. It made sense. But lately I’ve been wondering if I built something so solid around myself that I forgot how to want anything else.” She shrugged, quietly. “I don’t know what that ‘something else’ even is yet. Just that if I want it… I might have to learn how to want it out loud.” She watched him push another bite around, her tone softening as she added, “That probably sounds overly introspective to you. But you asked.” A pause. “And I’d rather be honest with you than let everything stay unsaid again.”

"Work calls, right?" he said. "Yeah, some days feel like that." He glanced up at her tired smile, recognizing something familiar in it that he didn't want to acknowledge. Krish pushed another bite of noodles around his plate, buying time while her words settled uncomfortably in his chest. She was doing that thing again, speaking in metaphors about treading water and things sinking, like life was some philosophical puzzle instead of just a series of choices you made and lived with. He'd made his choices. Left Toronto, left the family business, left her and everyone else behind because staying felt like suffocating. Now she was here asking how he was really doing, and the honest answer wasn't something he could say out loud. "I'm doing alright. Work keeps me busy enough." Her question hung there waiting for an answer, and he could feel her watching him the way she used to when they were younger and she was trying to figure out if he was lying about breaking something or skipping school. Some habits never changed, apparently. "What did you mean about wanting something that might not come easy again?" he asked, taking another sip of his drink. "That's pretty vague, even for you."

[amaraxgujral]

Amara let out a soft huff of a laugh, folding her arms loosely as she looked back at the playroom. “Yeah, showing up counts for something,” she said, with a shrug that was more thoughtful than dismissive. “Even if I’m just the lady in heels who writes checks and nods in meetings.” She glanced sideways at Nayeli, her tone lightening just a touch. “To be fair, you’re the one out here wrangling whatever emergencies the kids have--and in full costume. That’s commitment. I’m not sure I’d survive ten minutes in those wings without declaring a personal crisis.” There was no edge in her voice—just an easy kind of honesty. “But hey,” she added, her smile crooked, “if we ever need to co-host something, I’ll bring the boring money talk. You can bring the fairy dust, sound good?”

“Attacked by a craft store might be my new tagline,” Nayeli said, her voice dry but carrying a thread of humor. “And hey, if committing fully means looking like a walking glitter bomb, then I guess I’m all in.” She adjusted the crushed wing again, knowing it was a lost cause but doing it anyway. “Magic doesn’t come cheap, apparently.” Her words came easily enough, but her thoughts were harder to wrangle. Amara’s laugh had caught her off guard - not the sound itself, but the way it softened her edges. People like her weren’t supposed to have edges that softened. They were supposed to stay polished, untouchable. It made Nayeli wonder if she’d misjudged her, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to go down that road. “Philanthropic advisory board,” she reflected, the words feeling too big for the space between them. “That’s ... not nothing.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly a compliment either. She wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap between their worlds, so she didn’t try. Instead, she nodded toward the kids. “Well, you’re here, so ... I guess that counts for something.”

[amaraxgujral]

Amara turned her head, slightly surprised to hear someone answer—and even more surprised that he’d slowed his own pace. She let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sigh. "Brutal’s one word for it. I was hoping it was just me falling apart," she said dryly, eyeing the water bottle for a beat before accepting it with a small, grateful nod. "Thanks. I usually come out here thinking I can beat the heat and the market forecasts with the same stubborn optimism." She took a sip, careful not to overdo it, then passed the bottle back. Her gaze flicked toward the bench, considering. “I should probably take you up on that. My pride’s debating it, but she’s the one that got me into this mess, so.” Her tone was wry, but not self-deprecating—Amara wasn’t the type to make herself small, even in a moment like this. As they made their way toward the bench, she glanced over at him again. “You always this prepared or just have ridiculously good timing?”

"Yeah, it's brutal out here today," Cedric said, slowing his jog as he noticed the woman steadying herself against the bike rack. "I've got some water if you need it." He pulled out his water bottle, already half-empty from his own run. The heat was definitely getting to everyone today, not just him. His shirt was completely soaked through, which wasn't normal for this early in the morning. Usually took him at least an hour and a half to get this sweaty, but today felt different. Maybe it was the humidity or something. She looked like she might actually need to sit down for a minute, and there was a bench just a few yards back if she wanted to take a break. People pushed themselves too hard sometimes, especially when the weather decided to be unpredictable. "There's a bench right behind us if you want to sit for a sec."

[amaraxgujral]

@labyrinthinesyndicatex

alice hoffman practical magic

kofi

[amaraxgujral]

Amara nodded slowly, letting Elisa’s words settle with her. She knew how much had probably been poured into building something real—something that mattered—and how fragile that trust could be. “I get that completely,” she said quietly, her voice steady but thoughtful. “This isn’t about taking over or changing what you’ve built. But at the same time, I’m not entirely interested in being some silent figure in the background either.” She paused, searching for the right way to explain what she wanted. “I want to be involved—enough to help carry some of the weight, but without ever stepping on your vision. It’s like... a partnership where we both bring something to the table. You keep leading the day-to-day, and I offer support—whether that’s funding, connections, or just another pair of hands when it gets overwhelming. I have enough on my plate to try and take over something you've put so much love and care into Elisa."Amara’s eyes softened. “Trust is everything here. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that for anyone. I guess I’m just hoping to help you with continuing to spread further and reach more people with what you've already created.”

"That's a generous offer," Elisa said, leaning back in her chair. "And I appreciate the honesty about usually having selfish motives - makes this feel more real somehow. Those projections you showed me could triple our capacity, maybe more." She'd been turning those numbers over in her head for weeks now. More funding meant expanding beyond the five locations, maybe even getting that property in Little Italy she'd been eyeing. The women who called her hotline wouldn't have to wait three weeks for a bed. Her kids could stop hearing her stress-pace the hallway at two in the morning when another family needed help she couldn't provide. "But I need to know what this partnership looks like day-to-day," she continued. "Are we talking silent investor, board member, hands-on involvement? Because I've built something that works, and I won't compromise the trust my clients have in me."

[amaraxgujral]

Amara slid into the booth and let out a soft sigh, folding her hands in her lap. She didn’t rush to meet Krish’s eyes right away—there was something in the noise of the restaurant that felt both comforting and painfully distant, like a reminder of a world she wasn’t fully part of anymore. "I'm sorry, I was genuinely on my way but a client called and had a meltdown before I could leave. I got here as quickly as I could." She thought about how much she missed the idea of family—not just the gatherings or the words, but the way it used to feel, a steady thing beneath everything else. That sense of belonging. Lately, that feeling had been harder to hold onto, slipping through her fingers like sand.

She knew, deep down, that Krish probably resented her being here—that maybe he wished she’d stayed far away, out of sight, out of his life. And maybe, sometimes, she wondered the same. Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke, more to herself than to him. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Wanting something you know might never come easy again." She took another glance at him before placing her order for the same pad thai as him. Amara paused for a moment, searching for the right words beneath the weight of his gaze. “Honestly? Some days feel like I’m just treading water,” she said quietly, voice soft but steady. “Trying to keep things from sinking under, you know?” She gave a small, tired smile. “But I guess that’s everyone these days.” She glanced away briefly before meeting his eyes again. “And you? How are you really doing?”

CLOSED STARTER

LOCATION: Cafe FOR: @amaraxgujral

"You're late," Krish said without looking up from his pad thai as Amara slid into the booth across from him. "Five minutes late, actually." He'd been sitting here alone, stabbing at noodles and wondering why he'd agreed to this lunch in the first place. Amara had been relentless with her texts - guilt trips about family time and how he never made an effort anymore. Eventually saying yes had seemed less exhausting than her constant pestering. The restaurant was packed with the usual lunch crowd, which was exactly why he'd picked it. Loud enough that nobody would overhear their conversation, busy enough that they'd blend in with everyone else grabbing quick meals between work meetings. "So how are you doing?" he asked, finally meeting her eyes. His tone was flat, almost bored. Krish took a long sip of his Thai iced tea, already regretting this whole thing. He wasn't built for family catch-ups anymore, especially not the kind where he had to pretend everything was normal.

[amaraxgujral]

Amara let out a quiet laugh, the kind that softened the sharper edges of her usually composed demeanour. "Attacked by a craft store might be the most accurate job hazard I’ve heard today," she said, eyes briefly scanning the crushed wings before returning to Nayeli with clear amusement. "And for what it’s worth, you pull it off better than most people would. There’s a certain kind of magic in committing fully—even when the glitter is winning." At the question, her expression shifted—still warm, but edged with something more sincere. "I’m on the hospital’s philanthropic advisory board," she admitted, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, like she wasn’t quite sure how that would land. "I mostly show up for meetings and donor relations, but I try to come in-person when I can. Makes it feel less transactional." She glanced toward the hallway where two kids chased a balloon with wild abandon, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I’m not great with story time," she said, turning back to Nayeli. "But I like seeing the people who are."

"Honestly, I'm impressed you made it this far without declaring wing-related defeat yourself," Nayeli said, adjusting one of the crushed wings with a grimace. "And yeah, I've already mentally calculated replacing these things about fifteen times today." The woman's comment about knowing people with money made her snort - of course someone who looked like she belonged in boardrooms would have connections like that. The blazer draped over her arm probably cost more than Nayeli made in a month. "The kids don't care if I look like I got attacked by a craft store," she continued. "They just want someone to believe in magic with them for a few minutes. But what brings you here? You don't exactly look like you're here for story time."

[amaraxgujral]

She looked up from where she was perched at the edge of a bench near the playroom, blazer draped neatly over her arm, clearly not dressed for the whimsy of the ward—but unmistakably present. She accepted the water with a small, surprised smile, raising an eyebrow at the glittery wings. "Honestly? I was expecting a caffeine-deprived nurse or a clipboard-wielding intern—not a fairy princess on a hydration mission," she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in amusement. Her gaze swept over the costume, catching the slight tilt of a crushed wing and the shimmer of glitter now permanently embedded in Nayeli’s sleeve.

"You’re braver than I am. I’d have declared wing-related defeat about two rooms in. But the kids must love you for it." She took a sip from the cup, then added with a conspiratorial glance, "If you ever need a wing-repair fund, I may just know some people."

OPEN STARTER

LOCATION: angel's rest CAPPING: 02/04

Nayeli walked through the children's hospital ward carrying a tray of water cups, the stupid fairy wings catching on literally everything. Seriously, whoever designed this costume had never tried to actually move around in it. The glittery tulle kept getting tangled in door frames and she'd already accidentally swept a stack of magazines off a table. She spotted someone who looked like they could use some water and walked over, holding out a cup. "I bet you didn't think you'd be getting a drink from a fairy princess today," she said, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous she probably looked. The wings made this annoying crinkling sound every time she moved, and honestly, she was ready to rip them off. But the kids here loved this stuff - she'd already been asked to make a teddy bear come to life and help find someone's lost sock. Which, apparently, was very important fairy business according to a six-year-old named Angela.

[amaraxgujral]

closed for @labyrinthinesyndicatex (for elisa) location: amara's office

“So—I’ve had some time to think over the projections and numbers I showed you the last time we met, and I genuinely believe that if we put our heads together, I could help you access significantly more capital to do some real good.”

Since arriving in Devil’s Junction six years ago, Amara had quietly admired Elisa and the impact she made—steadily, sincerely. For years, she’d wanted to find a way to partner with her, even behind the scenes. This felt like the right time. Her career was stable, her footing secure. Giving back, now, felt less like obligation and more like purpose.

“I need you to know that while, ordinarily, I don’t do anything without some selfish interest at heart…” Her lips curved into a wry smile. “This is different. This part of my life—I don’t want credit. I just want to support you, and the women you're helping. Do you think we could work something out?”

[amaraxgujral]

closed for @ofgrenvde (for cedric) location: some nature trail

Getting a morning run in was a luxury for Amara—something she could only manage on days that weren’t already drowning in meetings. Today, luckily, was one of those rare mornings. She’d kept a good pace, but as she neared the more public stretch of the park, a sudden wave of dizziness caught her off guard. She reached out, steadying herself on a nearby bicycle rack, fingers gripping the cool metal as she exhaled sharply. "Is it just--hotter today or am I losing my stamina?" She mumbled, not quite expecting anyone to respond seeing as she was mostly speaking to herself, a bad habit she'd developed since moving away from Toronto nearly six years ago.

[amaraxgujral]

━ INTRODUCING AMARA GUJRAL.

name: Amara Gujral

nickname: Mara

birthday: July 27th 1989

age: 35

gender: cis female

pronouns: She/Her

face claim: Kriti Sanon 

occupation: VP of Mergers & Acquisitions at Imperial Corporation Bank

neighborhood: Skyline Heights

hometown: Toronto, Canada,

tldr; Amara Gujral, 35, is the sharp and strategic Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions at Imperial Corporation Bank. Originally from Toronto, she moved to Skyline Heights six years ago to pursue bigger career opportunities. Known for her calm under pressure, meticulous planning, and mentorship of young women, she works closely with all members of the bank. While fiercely career-driven, Amara maintains close family ties and a small, trusted circle of friends. She balances a demanding job with yoga, hiking, and volunteering to empower female entrepreneurs.

b i o g r a p h y ;

Amara Gujral is a formidable and highly respected Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions at Imperial Corporation Bank. At 35, she has built a reputation for strategic brilliance, meticulous analytical skills, and an unshakable ability to close complex, high-stakes deals under pressure. Her rise to this influential role is a story of ambition, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to excellence. Born and raised near Toronto in a close-knit family that owned a successful manufacturing business, Amara’s early exposure to the world of entrepreneurship sparked a deep interest in how companies grow and transform. She excelled academically, earning a Bachelor’s degree in Finance from a top Canadian university, followed by an MBA focused on Corporate Strategy and Finance.

Amara began her career at a prestigious boutique investment firm in Toronto, quickly gaining recognition for her precision in valuation and her strategic approach to deal structuring. After several years, she sought broader challenges and relocated to Skyline Heights six years ago—drawn by the city’s vibrant financial scene and the opportunity to join Imperial Corporation Bank’s M&A division. Starting as an Associate, Amara swiftly distinguished herself by leading several landmark transactions, including complex cross-border acquisitions and high-pressure hostile takeovers. One of her signature deals involved orchestrating the acquisition and successful integration of a struggling tech startup, which resulted in a significant market expansion for the client and bolstered Imperial Corporation Bank’s portfolio.

Professionally, Amara shares a strong, synergistic partnership with Lorenzo, the bank’s head of trading. Their complementary expertise—his market insight and hers strategic acumen—has fueled some of Imperial Corporation Bank’s most impactful mergers and acquisitions. Although their relationship is strictly professional, their mutual respect and quiet camaraderie speak to years of collaboration under intense pressure. Amara is also deeply committed to mentoring young talent within the bank, especially women navigating the traditionally male-dominated finance sector. Known for her calm, meticulous leadership style, she inspires loyalty and confidence in her team, fostering a culture of empowerment and growth.

Her move from Toronto was as much personal as professional. Leaving behind family and a long-term relationship, which gradually faded as her career demands increased, was difficult. Though that chapter closed, Amara maintains strong ties to her family through weekly calls and regular visits, especially with her younger sister, whom she supports as both adviser and confidante. While she occasionally feels the pressure of family expectations to one day return and help run the family business, her ambition lies firmly within corporate finance.

In Skyline Heights, Amara has cultivated a close-knit social circle of friends—mostly fellow professionals and university friends who relocated alongside her. She is selective about her personal life, guarded yet deeply loyal to those she trusts. Her romantic life remains low-key, favouring meaningful connections over casual relationships, balancing the demands of her high-powered career with the desire for companionship.

Outside work, Amara decompresses through yoga and weekend hikes, appreciating the balance between the intensity of her job and moments of calm. She also volunteers her financial expertise to nonprofits supporting female entrepreneurs, reflecting her belief in lifting others as she climbs. Looking forward, Amara aspires to rise to a Chief Strategy Officer role or even secure a seat on Imperial Corporation Bank’s executive board, where she can influence not only individual deals but the bank’s long-term vision and impact on the global financial landscape.

h e a d c a n o n s ;

Amara has a highly analytical mind, but she makes decisions with her gut just as often as her spreadsheets—especially when she senses something off in a deal or a person.

Keeps a ���closed folder” on her personal laptop: inside are poems she writes when she can’t sleep. No one knows.

She doesn’t believe in fate, but she keeps seeing the number 11:11 and silently makes the same wish each time.

She sets three alarms in the morning—but always wakes up on the first. She just likes knowing she has a backup plan.

Can’t function without her black leather-bound planner. It’s colour-coded with tabs, sticky notes, and scribbles in the margins only she can decipher.

Owns at least six pairs of identical black heels—rotation matters, she insists.

Checks Bloomberg before she checks her personal messages.

Keeps a photograph of her parents on her desk at home; they remind her what kind of strength she comes from.

Keeps a reputation for being unshakeable in the boardroom, but plays with her rings when she’s under pressure.

Has a soft spot for people with ambition, especially when they remind her of a younger version of herself.

Her love language is acts of service. If she likes you, she’ll show up when it matters—no fanfare.

Her condo has floor-to-ceiling windows, hardwood floors, and a strict no-shoes-inside policy.

Occasionally texts her ex when she visits Toronto, though she deletes the message drafts more than she sends them.

She sometimes dreams of an alternate life—one where she stayed in Toronto, married young, helped run her family’s business, and had Sunday dinners with her parents. She loves her life, but… she wonders.

She’s a perfectionist, but that perfectionism was born out of constantly feeling like she had to earn her seat at every table.

c o n n e c t i o n s ;

An ex-flame from Toronto (rekindled or unresolved)

A friend who knew her before she was this successful

Her sister (!!)

Someone outside her world (chef, artist, barista) who makes her feel grounded

A therapist, yoga instructor, or spiritual confidant she sees quietly

A neighbour in Skyline Heights she slowly bonds with

A socialite or public figure who wants to befriend her for clout

A distant relative who reminds her of her cultural roots

A nonprofit leader or activist who questions her corporate work

A former protégé who now resents her

[amaraxgujral]