All Night | Saari Raat Call | Ap: Dillon | Shinda Kehlon | 2022 Album | Audio Version |

His phone vibrated in the cup holder. The name on the screen made his heart skip.

He tapped the screen, and the familiar rhythm of began to pulse through the speakers. It was the heart of AP Dhillon’s Two Hearts Never Break the Same album, a track that felt less like music and more like a confession.

As Shinda Kahlon’s verses flowed through the car, blending traditional vibes with that modern, late-night grit, Kabir felt the miles between them vanish. They didn't need to say much. The lyrics did the heavy lifting, capturing that restless, magnetic pull of two people who couldn't figure out how to hang up. His phone vibrated in the cup holder

"The AP Dhillon one?" she laughed gently. "The one where they talk about staying on the phone saari raat ?"

"Exactly. It’s 2022, Shreya. Who actually stays on a call all night anymore?" "We do," she whispered. It was the heart of AP Dhillon’s Two

By the time the sky began to turn a bruised purple, signaling the dawn, the audio version of the track had played a dozen times. Kabir pulled into his driveway, but he didn't turn off the engine. He didn't want the music to stop, because as long as the song was playing and the line was open, the night didn't have to end. "You still there?" he asked. "Saari raat," she promised.

"Just driving," Kabir replied, leaning back. "And listening to our song." The lyrics did the heavy lifting, capturing that

"Still awake?" Shreya’s voice came through, soft and slightly raspy from sleep—or the lack of it.