Adhvik and Palak, still out of breath, “Hume bhi yeh hi puchhna chahiye!”

["We should be asking the same thing!"]

And then, all four together, “Hum yahan Kriti aur Anushka ke liye aaye hain!”

["We're here for Kriti and Anushka!"]

They paused—another beat of stunned silence—before again shouting in unison, “Par tumhe kaise pata chala?!”

["But how did you find out?!"]

They all turned to look at each other, eyes wide, faces frozen in the same exact expression—
a perfect blend of shock, suspicion… and a slight tinge of confusion.

---

Kriti, Arnav, Vatsal, and Anushka were walking slowly through the next corridor, their steps cautious, breaths shallow. None of them dared to speak or grab hold of each other—until a sudden realization hit them.

Voices. Heavy footsteps.

The security guards were now inside the school, probably alerted by all the noise earlier.

Vatsal immediately grabbed Anushka’s hand and whispered,
“Yahan se chalo!”

["let’s get out of here!"]

In one swift motion, he pulled her into a nearby classroom, the door creaking shut behind them.

Arnav didn’t waste a second. His fingers interlocked with Kriti’s, and he tugged her into the next classroom down the hall.
He quickly shut the door and leaned back against it, his breath controlled but tense.

Outside, footsteps approached—slow, deliberate. A flashlight beam passed across the corridor window. The guards were scanning room by room.

Arnav's instincts kicked in. He gently pulled Kriti closer, hiding them both behind the door, in that narrow shadowed gap between the door and the wall.

Kriti’s heart was pounding like a drum. Her breaths came out quick and shallow.
Arnav glanced down at her—her face dimly lit by the sliver of light peeking through the blinds.
He gently pulled her even closer, until there was barely an inch between them.

Kriti whispered, her voice trembling, “K-Kya kar rahe ho, Arnav?”

["W-What are you doing, Arnav?"]

Arnav replied in a low murmur, his voice soft but teasing, “Wahi... jo tum samajh rahi ho.”

["Exactly... what you think I’m doing."]

Kriti looked away, cheeks burning. “Main... kya samajh rahi hoon?” she asked, avoiding eye contact.

["I... what am I thinking?"]

Arnav raised one hand slowly, his fingers brushing her cheek with featherlight softness. He turned her face gently toward him. “Tumhe pata hai main yahan kiske liye aaya tha?”

["Do you know who I came here for?"]

Kriti blinked at him, her voice a whisper. “Kiske liye?”

[“From whom?”]

He smiled faintly, his thumb caressing her cheek.
“Kiske liye, Kriti… janti ho na?”

[“For whom, Kriti… you know?”]

She looked down, lips parting slightly, and gave the tiniest nod. A blush spread across her cheeks like a sunrise.

Arnav leaned in, his forehead almost brushing hers.
“Main yahan tumhare paas kyun khada hoon… janti ho na?”

["Do you know why I'm standing here next to you?"]

Again, Kriti nodded—this time slower, breath caught in her throat.

His smile deepened. “Tumhe pata hai na... maine tumhe aise kyun pakad ke rakha hua hai… janti ho na?”

["You know, right... why I’m holding you like this... you know, don’t you?"]

She bit her lower lip and gave another soft nod, her eyes still unable to meet his.

Arnav gently tilted her chin up again, eyes locked with hers. “Tumhare itne paas kyun khada hoon… janti ho na?”

["Do you know why I'm standing so close to you?"]

Kriti didn’t answer this time. She simply looked into his eyes, her silence more powerful than any words.

Then, Arnav leaned in. He simply let the tip of his nose brush hers—light as air—and then rested his forehead against hers.

For a moment, the chaos outside didn’t exist.
No guards. No school. No fear.
Just heartbeats.

—

Palak, still a bit shaken, instinctively held Pranjal’s hand. She glanced down, blinked once—but didn’t let go.

“Main toh bas… tum kahi gir na Jao isliye…” Palak muttered.

[“I was just… making sure you don’t fall,”]

“Haan haan, ground slippery hai na,” Pranjal smirked, but his fingers curled slightly tighter around her.

[“Yeah, yeah, the ground’s slippery, right?”]

Meanwhile, at the back of the group, Adhvik and Manya walked side by side—but with enough distance to park a scooter between them.

Manya folded her arms, glaring sideways. “Tumhe marne ka regret toh abhi tak nahi hua mujhe.”

[“I still haven’t regretted hitting you.”]

Adhvik rubbed his still-red cheek. “Waise bhi tumse maar khana mere ego ke liye ek naya low point tha.”

[“Honestly, getting slapped by you was a new low for my ego.”]

“Low point? Toh attitude ka Everest kab gir raha hai?” she snapped.

[“A low point? When’s your Everest of attitude going to crash, then?”]

He narrowed his eyes. “Jab tum bolna band karogi.”

[“When you stop talking.”]

Manya, glaring at him with fierce eyes and jabbing a finger at his chest, snapped, “Shukar manao ke maine pair kahin aur nahi maara... warna baap banne layak bhi nahi bachte tum!”

[“Be thankful I didn’t kick somewhere else… or you wouldn’t even be capable of becoming a father!”]

Adhvik swallowed hard, her words hitting him like a bullet. Under his breath, he muttered, “Tab toh sirf Oberoi khandan ke bacche hi nahi, pura khandan hi khatam ho jata… agar main baap ban hi na pata toh.”
[“In that case, not just the children of the Oberoi family, the entire bloodline would’ve ended… if I couldn’t become a father.”]

Manya squinted, not catching his mumble. “Kya bola tumne?”
[“What did you say?”]

Adhvik, quickly masking his panic with a cheeky grin, tilted his head and teased, “Gulab jamun logi? Behan ke haathon ke gulab jamun… ya biryani?”
[“Would you like some gulab jamun? Made by your sister… or biryani?”]

They both huffed and looked away—at exactly the same time.

Palak looked back at them and whispered to Pranjal, “Lagta hai yeh dono ya toh ek dusre ko kha jayenge….”
[“Looks like these two are either going to tear each other apart or… something worse.”]

Pranjal chuckled. “Dono mein same level ka horror hai.”
[“They both bring the same level of horror to the table.”]

As soon as the sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallway, the four froze in place.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

They exchanged panicked glances, and instinct took over.

Without a word, Manya grabbed Adhvik’s wrist and darted toward the washroom, while Pranjal and Palak sprinted toward the science lab, their breaths caught in their throats.

Adhvik peeked through a crack in the door and spotted a guard pacing right outside. Without thinking, he reached out and pulled Manya closer—his hand wrapping around her waist, his other arm covering her face as he tucked her into the corner with him. His palm rested protectively over her forehead, shielding her view.

“Woh bahar hai kyaaa…” Manya whispered, her voice barely audible.
[“Is he outside…?”]

“Haan… bahar khade hain,” Adhvik whispered back, voice calm but alert.
[“Yeah… he’s standing outside,”]

She stayed silent… but her thoughts? They weren’t.

As she leaned into him, she accidentally looked up—right into his face.

And suddenly, time slowed.

She had never really looked at him like this before.
Not with such stillness.
Not with this silence.

How had she missed this?

His sharp jawline, defined like it had been sketched by an artist in a rush of inspiration.
That slight stubble brushing her temple.
The smooth glow on his skin despite the chaos around them, as if danger made him look even better.
His hair—messy, rebellious, and perfectly imperfect.
And then… those eyes.

A mix of hazel and green, they weren’t just looking—they were seeing. Piercing. Calm. Alive.

And for the first time, Manya felt a strange flutter in her chest—not of fear, but realization.

How did I never notice this face? she thought.
The face that could belong to the hero of a Netflix drama.
The kind girls would write diary entries about.
The kind of boy she had foolishly labelled as an enemy... when in reality, he was 100% crush material.

And maybe… just maybe, he wasn’t the enemy in her story.
Maybe he was the misunderstood chapter she had skipped too fast.

Manya blinked, snapping out of her thoughts just as Adhvik whispered again,
“Don’t move… he’s still there.”

But the real problem?

She couldn’t move even if she tried.

Manya, lost in her thoughts," "What the hell, Manya Oberoi? Adhvik Patel? Out of all the boys in the world, you had to get stuck on Adhvik Patel? The one whose eyes... whose face... held everything I had always tried to avoid? I’ve always considered him my enemy. Then why are you giving yourself these signals, Manya? He can never like you back. Even if, by some miracle, you end up liking him, I must control my heart. You can’t like Adhvik. He doesn’t like you. You’re not supposed to like him. So why are such thoughts even entering your head?"

She clenched her fists, trying to silence her racing heart, her brows furrowed in frustration.

"Adhvik Patel... Why can't you just remain my enemy? What are you doing to my heart?”

Meanwhile, Adhvik, who had been staring silently out the window, slowly turned his gaze toward Manya. His eyes, usually guarded, were now swirling with unspoken confusion.

"Manya Oberoi, what are you doing to me? Why am I being drawn to you like a magnet? Why do I keep looking for reasons to fight with you, when in truth, I’m just finding excuses to come closer? Why does my blood boil whenever someone talks about you? Why does your presence bring me peace... a strange kind of happiness? Why does irritating you feel so satisfying? What are you doing to me, Manya? Am I starting to feel something for you... something I never meant to feel? I can’t control these emotions anymore."

He clenched his jaw slightly, as if trying to keep those words from escaping his mouth, but they had already taken shape inside him.

"Manya Oberoi... why can't you just remain my enemy? What are you doing to my heart?"

Suddenly, Manya snapped out of her thoughts and glanced around.

Manya softly,"Lagta hai woh chale gaye..."
[“Looks like they’re gone…”]

At the same moment, Adhvik, too, seemed to return to his senses. Realizing where his hands were, he quickly let go of her and awkwardly looked away, scanning the surroundings.

Adhvik cleared his throat ,"Haan... chale gaye. Chalo... chalo, chalte hain.”
[“Yeah… they’re gone. Let’s… let’s get going.”]

Palak could feel the warmth of Pranjal chest against her forehead, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing louder than the chaos around them. Each thump felt like a silent promise of safety, of presence. His arms around her were firm, protective — not possessive as if he was shielding her not just from the guards but from the world itself.

As she looked up at him, her breath caught. His eyes, though alert and scanning for danger, held a softness when they flickered to her — a softness that made her chest ache. She wasn't just hidden behind him… she was being protected, chosen.

Palak’s thoughts swirled with emotions she could no longer deny.
"Kyu karte ho tum aisa, Pranjal? Kyu itni parwah karte ho sabki, meri bhi… jab tumhe zarurat nahi hai? Apne uss sakht rules ko todh ke aaj meri dost ke liye aaye ho… sirf meri aankhon mein aansu na aaye isliye. Tum jaante bhi ho kya kar rahe ho mere saath? Mere dil ke saath?”

[“Why do you do this, Pranjal? Why do you care so much — about everyone, about me — when you don’t need to? You broke your strict rules today, just to help my friend… only so I wouldn’t have tears in my eyes. Do you even realize what you're doing to me? To my heart?”]

The first time I met you…
and the last time I confessed I’m in love with you —
none of it was ever planned.
The way I look at you…
you’ll never understand how deep I’ve fallen for you.

Tumse toh tabse pyaar kar baithi hoon,
jabse mujhe tumhara naam bhi nahi pata tha,
na koi pehchaan, na koi wajah.

[I fell for you long before I even knew your name,
before there was any identity, any reason.]

You were the first person who broke my
“no falling in love” rule —
not with effort, but just by being you.

Maine aaj tak itna bhola, itna sweet,
itna caring insaan nahi dekha —
jo meri galti pe bhi khud sorry kehta ho.

[I’ve never seen someone so pure, so gentle,
so genuinely caring —
someone who says sorry for my mistakes.]

You confuse me…
You calm me…
You make me believe love isn’t always loud —
sometimes it’s just standing close
with a heartbeat steady enough to make you feel safe.

And now…
All I know is this —
Main tumse pyaar karti hoon,
itna zyada ki khud par bhi yakeen nahi hota,
aur itna zyada ki ab tumse door rehne ka khayal bhi dard deta hai.

[I love you, Pranjal.
So much that even I can’t believe it.
So much that the thought of staying away from you hurts.]

"Rukmini ne Krishna se prem kiya tha, jaante hue ki unka hriday hamesha Radha ka rahega… phir bhi usne kabhi shikayat nahi ki, kyunki uska prem swarth se nahi, samarpan se bhara tha.”

[“Rukmini loved Krishna, knowing his heart would always belong to Radha…
yet she never complained, because her love wasn’t selfish — it was full of devotion.”]

She moved closer, slowly — as if time itself had softened around her. Gently, she raised her hands and wrapped them around him, her touch hesitant yet full of longing. Then, resting her forehead against his chest, she closed her eyes.

In that stillness, she didn’t need words.
She just wanted this moment — this warmth, this closeness — to never fade.
She wished he would never let go, never step away.
Everything in her silently begged the universe: Let this stay. Just like this.
So close… so safe… so painfully perfect that she didn’t want to breathe too hard, fearing it might change everything.

Pranjal felt her arms wrap around him — slow, hesitant, yet full of emotion. He noticed the way Palak clung to him, her forehead resting gently against his chest, her eyes closed as if hiding from the world.

He didn’t step back. He couldn’t.

A thousand questions swirled in his mind, but none strong enough to overpower the calm that settled over him. He thought maybe she was scared, maybe she just needed comfort. But what he didn’t understand was why he felt at peace — a peace he had never known, not even in silence.

Without thinking, Pranjal lifted one hand to her back, the other gently brushing her forehead as he pulled her closer.
He didn’t know why he was doing it.
He just knew — in this moment — he wanted to.
No logic. No questions. Just her.

Looking at her, a quiet smile played on his lips, and in a low voice in his mind, he spoke — not to her, but as if confessing to the universe itself:

"Kya kar diya hai tumne, Palak...
Main alag sa ho gaya hoon.
Jo tha, woh main nahi hoon…
Aur jo ban gaya hoon, usse main pehchaan nahi pa raha.

Jo ladka sirf padhai jaanta tha,
aaj uske paas dosti hai.
Jo hamesha akela rehna pasand karta tha,
aaj har woh cheez kar raha hai
jo usne kabhi sochi bhi nahi thi."

[“What have you done to me, Palak…
I’ve changed.
I’m not who I used to be…
and whoever I’ve become… doesn’t even feel like me.

The boy who only cared about studying,
now I have friends.
The one who preferred being alone,
is suddenly doing things he never even imagined.”]

His gaze softened, his voice deeper now — as if admitting something he had buried for too long:

"Aur jo ladkiyon se durr bhaagta tha,
aaj woh tumhare kareeb aane ke bahaane dhoondhta hai.
Kyun Palak? Kya hai tum mein
jo main samajh nahi pa raha?"

[“The boy who used to run away from girls…
now look for excuses just to be near you.
Why, Palak?
What is it about you that I can’t understand?”]

He paused, eyes flickering with the kind of raw honesty he never showed anyone.

"Tumhe kisi aur ke sath dekhta hoon toh jalan hoti hai, agar koi aur tumse baat kare meri jagah meri attention leke bahut jalan hoti hai.
Main tumhare har pal ko apna banana chahta hoon,
tumse hamesha baat karte rehna chahta hoon…
Yeh toh main kabhi tha hi nahi.
Yeh… tumhara banaya hua Pranjal Mishra hai, Palak.
Tumhara Pranjal Mishra."

[“When someone else talks to you,
I feel jealous.
I want to claim every moment of yours as mine.
I want to talk to you forever.
This… this isn’t the Pranjal Mishra I used to be.
This… is the Pranjal Mishra you created.
Your Pranjal Mishra."]

A flicker of fear crossed his eyes — not for himself, but for her.

"Aur ab isko darr hai…
darr hai ki kahin yeh tumhe na todh de.
Isliye shayad… tumhara mujhse door rehna sahi hai.
Zaroori hai."

[“And now this version of me is scared…
Scared that I might break you.
That’s why… maybe you staying away from me is right.
Maybe it’s necessary.”]

And then… he wrapped his arms around her once more.
This time, it's tighter. Closer.

He rested his cheek gently against her forehead,
closed his eyes,
and in that one breath,
wished for time to freeze —
for the world to pause —
for this one, perfect moment to never end.

—------

They were all running through the corridor, scattering in every direction, desperately trying not to get caught by the security guards. In their frantic escape, they suddenly collided—hard—right into each other.

For a moment, everything froze. The eight of them stared at one another, wide-eyed and breathless.

All in unison: “Pura khandan aa gaya hai!”

[“The whole family’s here!”]

A beat passed.

All in unison again: “Ab kya kare?”

[“Now what do we do?”]

Their eyes darted behind. The sound of footsteps—heavy and fast—echoed closer. The security guards were almost upon them.

All in unison once more: “Bhagooooooo!”

[“Ruuuuuun!”]

Without wasting another second, they bolted—sprinting as fast as their legs could.

—--

They all came running outside, adrenaline surging through their veins, chaos trailing behind them.

Without a second thought, Manya leapt onto a Scooty, her movements swift and wild. Adhvik scrambled beside her, awkwardly settling on the narrow side box of the vehicle.

At the same time, Palak and Pranjal arrived riding an old-school, Sholay-style scooter—clunky, dramatic, and straight out of a Bollywood chase scene.

Manya, still not thinking twice, revved up the Scooty and took off like a bullet, her hair flying in the wind.

Meanwhile, Pranjal, who had arrived on a bike, made a split-second decision. He jumped onto Arnav’s roaring Bullet. Without hesitation, he pulled Palak onto the seat behind him, her hands instinctively wrapping around his waist as he started the engine with a thunderous roar.

Vatsal, noticing Pranjal's getaway plan, rushed to mount the same Bullet. But before he could claim the seat, Arnav came running and flung himself onto the front tank of the bike, completely blocking Vatsal's view.

Kriti and Anushka, observing the utter madness around them, turned to see the guards closing in from behind—faces stern, pace relentless.

Without missing a beat, Kriti grabbed a nearby bicycle. She made Anushka hop on behind and began pedaling furiously, her legs moving with the speed of pure desperation.

Back on the Bullet, Vatsal was half-heartedly trying to push Arnav off, frustration etched across his face. But when he saw the guards nearly upon them, he gave up, kicked the engine to life, and sped off.

Arnav, now in a ridiculously awkward position, clung tightly to Vatsal from the front, folding his legs around Vatsal’s waist like a koala bear.

Meanwhile, Manya was flying down the road like she had nothing to lose.

Adhvik, sitting precariously on the side box, was now pale with fear. The speed. The wind. The wobbling Scooty.

He screamed, panic rising in his voice:

Adhvik: “Pisachhaani, dheere chala! Dheere chala! Main mar jaunga! Meri shaadi bhi nahi hui hai! Main... baap, maa sab banna baki hai!”
[“Slow down, woman! Slow down! I’m gonna die! I’m not even married yet! I still have to become a father… and a mother… everything’s pending!”]

But Manya didn’t respond. She didn’t even flinch. Eyes fixed ahead, lips set in determination—she simply accelerated.

Adhvik bounced with every bump, his hands gripping the side for dear life. His face twisted in terror. Just then, he noticed something—a tree. Right in front of them.

And then... he realized.

Manya was looking behind—not ahead.

He opened his mouth to scream—but it was too late.

The Scooty crashed head-on into the tree with a sharp thud, splitting clean into two pieces. Adhvik’s side broke off and began sliding down the road, sparks flying. Manya, meanwhile, was launched forward with a gasp.

Adhvik, now absolutely certain he wasn’t going to see the next sunrise, screamed at the top of his lungs—his voice echoing into the night.

Adhvik,“MAA! BHAGWAN! MUJHE BACHAALEIN! MAI VAAPIS KABHI SCOOTY PE NAHI BAITHUNAGA!”
[“Mom… God… save me… I swear I’ll never ride a scooty again…”]

He finally skidded to a stop, tangled in a bush, face-first, eyes wide with disbelief. Clothes dusty, hair sticking in every direction, he slowly blinked—he was alive. Barely.

On the other side, Manya had rolled forward, coming to a stop on a soft patch of grass. She sat up, brushed the dust from her jacket, and calmly adjusted her watch—completely unfazed.

She turned her head to look at Adhvik, who was now coughing up leaves.

Manya dryly ,“Overacting ki dukaan.”
[“Drama Queen.”]

Adhvik from the bush,“Mujhe spinal cord ka dard ho raha hai! Tu dekh ke nahi chala sakti thi?!”
[“My spine hurts! Couldn’t you drive more carefully?!”]

She simply stood up, dusted her jeans, and tossed him a smug look.

Manya, “Zyada bolne ka side effect hai. Brake bhi toot jaate hain. Yeh maana tu bach gaya”
[“That’s what happens when you talk too much. Even brakes give up. Be glad you’re still alive.”]

Down the street, Vatsal’s bike zig-zagged as he fought to keep control. Arnav, still wrapped around him like a panda, had his head buried into Vatsal’s shoulder.

Vatsal yelled, “Mujhe dekhne de yaar! Ye koi romantic ride nahi hai!”
[“Let me see the road, man! This isn’t a romantic ride!”]

Arnav,“Main gir jaunga! Main gir jaunga! maa yeh mujhe maar dega.
[“I’m gonna fall! I’m gonna fall! Mom’s he is  going to kill me!”]

Not far behind, Kriti pedaled like a woman possessed, her brows furrowed in focus, sweat on her forehead. Anushka clung to her tightly, eyes closed, silently chanting every prayer she knew.

As they turned a corner, a guard lunged toward them—but Kriti swerved with impossible speed, and the guard landed face-first into a puddle.

Anushka panting,“Tu superwoman hai… sach mein!”
[“You’re a superwoman… seriously!”]

Kriti gritting her teeth, “Aur tu dumbbell hai! Kitna heavy hai tu?!”
[“And you’re a dumbbell! How are you this heavy?!”]

---

After what felt like an eternity of wild escapes, they thought they had finally left the guards behind. Each of them stood at different corners of the street, panting and catching their breath. Slowly, they all gravitated to one central spot—a small, quiet square, hidden behind the maze of streets.

They dropped their bikes and cycles, letting them fall to the ground with careless abandon, and stared at one another. For a few heartbeats, everything was still. The world seemed to pause as they silently took in the madness of what had just happened.

Then, as if on cue, they burst out laughing—so loud, so carefree, that it felt like the entire city could hear them. Their laughter echoed through the empty square, bouncing off the walls, rising higher with every second. The kind of laugh that made their stomachs ache, the kind that left their voices raw. It wasn’t just relief—it was pure, uncontainable joy.

Adhvik was holding his stomach, still laughing hysterically, unable to catch his breath.

Adhvik between laughs, “I swear, I'm gonna die from laughing. Who knew running from guards could be this funny?!”

But then, their laughter came to an abrupt halt.

A sound. A faint one at first, but growing louder. The unmistakable clatter of footsteps—more than just a few.

They turned their heads in unison.

The guards were still coming. They hadn’t lost them after all.

Without even a second of hesitation, they all instinctively reached for each other’s hands, locking together in a chain of desperate unity.

All in unison: “BHAGOOOOO!”
[Runnnnn]

And just like that, they were off again—running, without looking back, without caring who saw, and without a thought for what would happen next.

—-
The next morning, the sky was calm, filled with the soft chirping of birds.
Palak, Kriti, and Anushka were all fast asleep, sprawled across Anushka’s bed in a messy heap. Palak was at the very edge, looking like she could fall off any second.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, snapping the silence. Palak’s eyes fluttered open. As she moved a little, she lost balance and fell to the floor with a thud.

“Ahh... bc! Ye kon subha subha shehnaai baja rha hai?” she groaned.

["Ahh... f*ck! Who the hell is playing the shehnai early in the morning?"]

Still half-asleep, Anushka didn’t react. Like a robot, she got out of bed, walked downstairs, and opened the main door halfway, expecting to grab the milk packets.
But instead of milk, someone grabbed her hand Pulled forward without warning, Anushka stumbled outside. Acting on the reflex, she opened the door wider—only to smack straight into someone’s chest.

Her sleepiness vanished in an instant as she winced, “What the—”

Fully awake now, she looked up, only to find Vatsal standing right in front of her. Her eyes widened as she quickly took a step back—

Only to spot Manya and Pranjal standing with him, watching her with amused expressions.
Manya scrunched her nose and grabbed Anushka’s arm, pulling her inside.

“Tum log abhi tak soh rhe ho!?” she said, half-scolding, as she walked into the living room and dropped onto the sofa.

["You guys are still sleeping!?"]

Vatsal and Pranjal followed behind, settling into the seats opposite them.
The room was still a little messy from last night—Kriti’s and Anushka’s white saree lay there along with Palak’s costume.

Anushka was still processing the shock, but the next moment, she became painfully aware of how she looked—dressed in her PJs, hair all messy, sleep still clinging to her eyes.

“Ughhh…!” she groaned, facepalming in embarrassment.

Suddenly jolting upright, she stammered, “Tum–tum log baitho, I’ll just wake up Palak and Kriti di.”

And before anyone could respond, she practically ran upstairs, disappearing in a blur.

Downstairs, Manya, Pranjal, and Vatsal slipped into an easy conversation, their laughter occasionally echoing through the house.

Meanwhile, Anushka rushed to her room. She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth, and ran her fingers through her hair to look a little more presentable.
Then, turning to the bed where her friends were still snoring away, she smirked.

“Utho, deviyo,” she said dramatically, drawing the curtains to let sunlight flood the room.

["Wake up, ladies,"]

Palak groaned, pulling the blanket over her head, while Kriti blinked slowly like she was trying to make sense of the universe.

After a few minutes, the trio finally made their way downstairs—yawning, stretching, and still a little drowsy.

Anushka and Kriti headed straight to the kitchen to fix some coffee and tea, the clinking of cups and the soft hiss of boiling water filling the space.

Palak, on the other hand, plopped onto the sofa beside Manya with a lazy grin.

“So, what’s the gossip I missed?” she asked, brushing her hair back with her fingers and glancing at the boys.

Vatsal chuckled. “Finally decided to join the world of living?”

Palak smirked. “Only because my beauty sleep was interrupted.”

The room was filled with light laughter, the kind that made mornings feel warmer.

Vatsal's POV
It was still early in the morning when my phone buzzed.

Manya.
I blinked at the screen in disbelief.
7 a.m.
The girl who didn’t open her eyes before 10 was calling me at seven. That itself felt like breaking news.

I picked it up immediately, already curious.
Her voice came through, restless and annoyed.

“I couldn’t sleep, idiot. Pranjal told me some stupid horror story last night—about the school being a shamshan ghat earlier last night ughhhh!”
I sighed, rubbing my eyes, trying not to laugh.

Crackheads. Absolute crackheads.

“Kya karu mai tum dono ka, seriously…” I muttered, my voice still heavy with sleep—low, cracked, and groggy.

["What am I supposed to do with you two, seriously..."]

But Manya was wide awake. Too awake.
“Ab main uth gayi hoon na, toh sabki neend kharab karungi,” she declared proudly.
“Aap aur Pranjal dono aao, mujhe pick karne. Bolna morning walk pe le jaa rahe ho. Mujhe Anushka ke ghar jaana hai, par itni subha bina nashta kiye jaa nahi sakti toh mujhe bacchao mumma se! Unko bolna aapke ghar hi Breakfast kar lungi ”

["Now that I'm awake, I'm going to ruin everyone's sleep," she declared proudly.You and Pranjal both come to pick me up. Tell Mom that you're taking me for a morning walk. I need to go to Anushka's place, but I can't go this early without having breakfast, so save me from Mom! Tell her I’ll have breakfast at your place."]

I groaned, falling back on the bed. Processing what she said

Only Manya could turn a horror story into a breakfast plan and drag us all into it.
Still, I didn’t say no. Somewhere deep down, I knew saying no to Manya was more exhausting than just showing up.
Also I can meet Anu so why not.

Right now, we were all sitting in the living room—but I was deeply occupied with something very, very important.

Staring at the kitchen.

It was an open kitchen, and right now, it held the most beautiful view imaginable.
Anu.
She was laughing at something Kriti said, her baby pink PJs slightly crumpled, her hair open and messy, strands falling over her face as she moved around. So effortlessly pretty. So... hers.

I watched her, completely lost—my mind wandering back to last night’s encounter at school. Her eyes, her voice, that moment. It kept playing in loops, like a favorite song I didn’t want to pause.

And just when I thought no one had noticed— Pinch.

"Ahhhh—!" I yelped, snapping out of my daydream.
*Pov ends*

Anushka and Kriti joined the group in the living room, both holding mugs of steaming coffee, still giggling over something from the kitchen.
A few moments later, Adhvik and Arnav arrived too, slipping into the relaxed chaos with ease.

Vatsal, however, seemed zoned out—his eyes subtly fixed on the kitchen as if it held some rare artwork. Or rather, someone.

Adhvik noticed.
Smirking, he leaned over and gave Vatsal a sharp pinch.
"Ahhhh—!" Vatsal yelped, snapping out of his daze as everyone turned to look at him.

“Kaha khoye hue ho, Vatsal bhai?” Adhvik teased, clearly amused. He already knew the answer—Vatsal had been too busy watching Anushka, who was now comfortably seated on the floor with her coffee.

["Where are you lost, Vatsal bhai?"]

Vatsal’s ears turned a deep shade of red, betraying every attempt to stay composed.
He tried to shrug it off casually, but the damage was done. The grin on Adhvik’s face only widened.

Manya raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Palak smirked. And Anushka?

Well, she didn’t say anything… but her eyes definitely lingered on Vatsal for a second longer.

“Main–hnn… main puch raha tha, kal tum sab school mein kaise the?” Vatsal said quickly, clearly trying to change the topic.

["I—uh… I was asking, how were you all at school yesterday?"]

Their conversation flowed effortlessly—shifting from playful arguments to recalling the chaos of the previous night.
Laughter echoed in the room as each of them added their own dramatic version of what had happened, cutting each other off mid-sentence, exaggerating details, and blaming one another in jest.

In the middle of it all, Manya stood up with a sigh, collecting the empty cups from the table. “Tum log baat karo, main cups sink mein rakh ke aati hoon,” she said, heading towards the kitchen.

["You guys keep talking, I'll just put the cups in the sink and come back."]

Adhvik’s eyes subtly followed her for a second before he stood up too, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans.

“Paani lena hai,” he muttered casually, not even looking at anyone as he walked behind her.

["I need to get some water."]

In the kitchen, Manya placed the last of the cups into the sink and turned to leave. But she paused mid-step, noticing Adhvik casually leaning against the counter, arms folded, clearly not looking for any water.

“Kya?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing. He’d been staring at her, and she had no idea why he was even there.

[“What!?”]

“Dekh raha hoon,” he replied, straightening up with mock seriousness.
“Sharam naam ki cheez bachi nahi hai tum mein. Scooty se gira diya aur sorry tak nahi bola. Badtameezi ki hadd hoti hai.”

["I see there's not even a trace of shame left in you. You knocked me off the scooty and didn't even say sorry. There’s a limit to rudeness."]

Manya narrowed her eyes, scoffing. “Sorry? Aur main bolun? Kaam badhane ka talent toh tumhara hai. Kiya dhara kuch nahi kaam aur badhar diye! Kal meri aatma nikal gyi thi aachanak se tum dono ko dekh ke Palak ko to alag se bataungi… leke bhi kisko gayi vo, help karne.”

["Sorry? And you want me to say it? You have a real talent for making things worse. Didn’t do any work but still caused trouble! Yesterday, my soul almost left me suddenly seeing you both. I’ll tell Palak separately… who even she took with her to help."]

She crossed her arms, smirking, but visibly irritated.

Adhvik, unfazed, grinned. “Aww… uski choice acchi hai, isliye leke gayi.”

["Aww… she has good taste, that’s why she took him along."]

That did it. Manya’s jaw clenched as her irritation peaked. But just as quickly, something clicked in her mind—the bet.
The results had been announced earlier before, and Adhvik had lost. Completely.

Which meant…
Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she slowly walked over to him, stopping just near the slab.

“Tum toh haar gaye the na?” she said, voice soft but deadly.

["You lost, didn’t you?"]

Adhvik blinked, his smugness fading for a moment. “Kya?”

[“What?”]

She leaned forward slightly, her smirk widening with mischief. “Ab yaad dilaun ya list banaun kaam ki? Yaad nahi, haare the tum? RESULT, Adhvik. Toh ab… tumhe poore shaam ki party mein bhi, sirf shuddh Hindi mein baat karni hai.”

["Should I remind you again or make a list of things to do? Don’t you remember—you lost? The RESULT, Adhvik. So now… you have to speak only in pure Hindi throughout the entire evening’s party."]

Before he could react, she spun around gracefully, her ponytail flicking against his shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen, victorious.

Adhvik stood frozen for a second, horror dawning on his face. “Hindi?” he whispered to himself like he had just been handed a death sentence. “Beizzati ho jayegi... party mein agar main Hindi mein baat karunga toh? Kya kya bolenge log…”

["I'll get embarrassed… what if I speak in Hindi at the party? What will people say…"]

He rubbed his temples, imagining every possible social disaster—from being called sanskrit bhasha ke mahaan rakshak to people bursting into laughter mid-conversation.

The mental image of trying to flirt in pure Hindi was already enough to make him want to vanish.

“Yeh Manya bhi na… Chota packet bada dhamaka,” he muttered with a dramatic sigh, dragging himself back to the living room like a man walking into war.

[This Manya… small package, big explosion]

As Adhvik walked back into the living room, trying to compose himself after his verbal sentencing, he clapped his hands dramatically.

"Hello hello! Toh kya bolti public, kya plan hai aaj ka?!" he announced, trying to sound cheerful while silently mourning his upcoming ‘Party drama’.

"Dinner toh set hai... lekin breakfast ka time gaya, toh brunch karna padega!"

["Hello hello! So, what do you all say, what’s the plan for today?!" "Dinner is set… but since breakfast time’s gone, we’ll have to do brunch!"]

Everyone looked at him, amused and curious.
"Batao batao, kaun kya khayega aaj? Aur haan—Arnav hume brunch karwayega!" he added, pointing at Arnav with a wicked grin.

["Tell me, tell me, who’s going to eat what today? And yes—Arnav will be treating us to brunch!"]

Arnav, who was lazily scrolling through his phone on the couch, looked up with a raised brow. “Excuse me? Maine kab kaha?”

["Excuse me? When did I say that?"]

“Kyun bhai? Itne acche chef ho, khana banana nahi toh at least order toh kara hi sakte ho. Hum toh mehmaan hain!” Adhvik said pulling his leg.

["Why, man? You’re such a good chef — if you don’t want to cook, at least you can order food. We’re the guests, after all!"]

“Acche chef? Khana bana lete ho?” Manya asked, Internally screaming FICTIONAL MEN CODED that only irritated Adhvik.

["Good chef? You actually know how to cook?"]

“Hnn.. Dekha? Public ki demand hai,” Adhvik added, “jaa jaa khana bana jaake."

["Hmm… See? It’s the public’s demand, go on, go make the food."]

“Tum log baith ke kya karoge? Saara kasht vo kyu kare tume jaise happasiyo ki bhook ke liye” Palak said to Adhvik.

["What will you all do by just sitting? Why should he go through all the trouble for the hunger of lazy people like you?"]

Adhvik gave her a look. "Kya kasht mein hoon, yeh sansaar nahi jaanta," he muttered dramatically under his breath, flopping down onto the beanbag like a fallen hero.

["The world doesn’t know the struggles I’m going through,"]

After nearly ten minutes of loud opinions, mock debates, and dramatic groans, the decision was made—brunch would be homemade. Well, semi-homemade.

The girls, very conveniently, had assigned who was going to make it. And now, the boys—Adhvik, Vatsal, Arnav, and Pranjal—stood in the kitchen, staring at the counter like it was an enemy battlefield.

Adhvik looked around, arms crossed, lips pursed in deep existential regret. “Yeh hum kaha fass gaye…” he muttered under his breath.

["Where have we gotten ourselves..."]

Pranjal, who was holding a tomato like it was some alien object, added dramatically, “Manya ke chakkar mein, bhai. Yeh sab Manya ke chakkar mein ho raha hai.”

["Because of Manya, bro. All this is happening because of Manya."]

Arnav leaned against the fridge, utterly unimpressed. “Mujhe laga hum brunch order karenge, yeh kya nayi problem hai?”

["I thought we were going to order brunch, what’s this new problem?"]

Vatsal sighed, cracking an egg into a bowl with the grace of someone who'd clearly done it
before. “Baat kam karo kaam zyada karo.”

["Talk less, work more."]

Adhvik rolled his eyes. “Maine toh socha tha Arnav banayega sab fass gye, PALAK ki wajah se!!”

["I thought Arnav would make everything, but we got stuck because of PALAK!!"]

Arnav smirked “Gourmet classes lene ke only faayde”

["The only benefits of taking gourmet classes."]

The Trio exchanged we are done glances at each other, on Arnav’s over achievements, as the sound of laughter echoed from the living room.

Arnav, after rolling his eyes one last time, suddenly took a step forward, clapped once, and transformed into a drill sergeant.

"Bas! Ab kaam karo. Vatsal, tum bread toast karoge. Adhvik, veggies chop karo. Pranjal, tum juice bana rahe ho. Aur haan, sab kuch insaanon ke khaane layak hona chahiye. Samjhe?"

["Enough! Now get to work. Vatsal, you’ll toast the bread. Adhvik, chop the veggies. Pranjal, you’re making the juice. And yes, everything should be fit for humans to eat. Got it?"]

The three of them blinked.

"Wait, excuse me? Hum ye sab kyu karenge?" Pranjal raised a brow, still holding the tomato like it might explode.

["Wait, excuse me? Why should we do all this?"]

“Jab se tum sab ko free brunch chahiye tha,” Arnav replied coolly, already heating the pan. “Mujhe toh ye sab aata hai. Tum log assistant ban jao warna ye kitchen ‘shamshaan ghat’ ban jaayega, right Pranjal?” he added a with smirk.

["Ever since you all wanted free brunch, I’ve known how to do all this. You guys become assistants, or else this kitchen will turn into a 'cremation ground,' right Pranjal?"]

Vatsal groaned, “Bhai, main toh isliye aaya tha ki thoda chill karenge, ye toh boot camp chal raha hai yahan.”

["Bro, I came here to chill a bit, but it feels like a boot camp is going on here."]

Adhvik looked at the chopping board, knife in hand, confused whether he was slicing onions or his self-respect. “Gaana yaad aa raha hai ‘kya se kya ho gaya….’ lanka lagani thi bhalle ki humari lag gyi”

["The song ‘kya se kya ho gaya…’ is coming to mind. We were supposed to cause a ruckus, but instead, we got into trouble ourselves."]

"No shit talks pls. Only work." Arnav mocked, flipping a slice of paneer on the pan like a pro.

As chaos unfolded—burnt toast, spilled juice, unevenly chopped capsicum, and frustrated sighs—the girls in the living room listened to the noise coming from the kitchen and exchanged amused glances.

Manya, smug as ever, sipped her coffee.
"Teamwork karna seekh jaayenge... dekhna, next level glow-up hone wala hai inka."

["They will learn to work as a team... just watch, they’re about to have a next-level glow-up."]

After devouring their chaotic yet surprisingly delicious brunch, the group began to part ways.

Adhvik and Arnav were the first to leave, citing urgent reasons—though everyone knew they just wanted to escape before they were assigned dishwashing duties.

Shortly after, Manya and Pranjal decided to head home too. Manya, already planning her outfit for the party, dragged Pranjal along, still debating whether maroon looked better on him than black.

That left Vatsal behind.

“I’ll stay back for a while,” he said, stretching as he got comfortable on the couch. “Party ki kuch arrangements discuss karni thi… especially the playlist and food.”

[“I’ll stay back for a while. I needed to discuss some party arrangements… especially the playlist and the food.”]

Anushka raised an eyebrow. “Kitne log aa rhe hai?”

["How many people are coming?"]

Vatsal gave her a small smile as Kriti joined him in the living room holding a notepad. “Zyada nahi hai kuch logo ko hi bulaya hai and kuch special bhaar ke log which is a surprise.”

["Not many, only invited a few people and some special out-of-school guests, which is a surprise."]

The vibe shifted from chaotic to calm as they sat down, going over the details—decor theme, snacks, guest list, music.

Amidst their discussion, Kriti looked at the list, “Tune isse kyu bulaya hai?”

["Why did you invite him?”]

Vatsal shrugged, “Tu bas dekh Party me kya hota hai.”

["Just wait and see what happens at the party."]

Kriti nodded, knowing he would have planned something fun Kalesh

They dived back into the plans, and after half an hour, everything was finally sorted—the theme was finalized, playlists queued, and the food menu approved.
A satisfying calm settled over the house as the last bit of chaos faded.
Kriti and Palak left shortly after helping Vatsal. He walked them to the door, ready to head out himself, putting on his shoes.

Just as he was tying the second lace, his phone buzzed.
“Hello? Hnn… Ria?” Vatsal said on call

[“Hello? Yes… Ria?”]

His tone was neutral, but that one name—Ria—was enough to shift the air in the hallway.

Anushka, who had come to bid him goodbye, standing near the door as she heard the name. Her brows twitched, and before he could even glance in her direction, she turned on her heel and shut the door behind her with more force than necessary.

She didn’t say a word. No casual goodbye. Nothing. Just the door clicking shut—loud and clear.

Vatsal looked up from his phone, a bit puzzled. He had caught the motion from the corner of his eye “Fvck” he sighed, muttering curses to himself before walking out, still on the call, though not paying attention.

It was 4 in the evening when Palak called Anushka, her voice already laced with panic. She was rummaging through her closet, anxiety hitting her like a wave as she stared at the endless pile of clothes, yet nothing felt right.

“Sunn rahi hai!!” Palak yelled for what felt like the eighth time.

["Are you listening?!"]

“I am listening!” Anushka finally snapped back. “But you’re not saying anything straight! Jalebi jaisi baatein ghuma rahi hai tu! And what even is this question?!”

[“I am listening! But you’re not saying anything straight! You’re twisting your words like a jalebi! And what even is this question?!”]

There was a pause, followed by Anushka’s voice softening slightly but laced with concern. “Koi tujhe na kyun bolega, Palak? Pagal hai kya? Kisne kuch bola tujhe? Bata na—kisne bola?!”

["Why would anyone say anything to you, Palak? Are you crazy? Who said anything to you? Tell me—who said?"]

Palak stayed quiet for a second, biting her lip.
Anushka, now serious, continued, “Tu bata mujhe. Agar kisi ne kuch bola na, I swear, main khud baat karungi usse. You're Palak shri, the same girl who can roast ten people without blinking. What’s gotten into you?”

[“You tell me. If anyone said anything to you, I swear I’ll talk to them myself. You’re Palak Shri — the same girl who can shut ten people down without even blinking. What’s gotten into you?”]

Palak sighed deeply on the other end, her voice a notch lower now. “Bas… I don’t know yaar, thoda nervous feel ho raha hai. Sab ache lagenge, smart lagenge, aur main…”

[“It’s just… I don’t know, yaar. I’m feeling a little nervous. Everyone will look good, smart… and I…”]

Anushka cut her off, “Aur tu kya? Tu sabse alag lagegi. Tu tu hai, Palak. Apni hi vibe hai teri. Ab chup chaap bata, kya options hai kapdon ke? Main help karti hoon.”

[““And you what? You’ll stand out from everyone. You’re you, Palak. You’ve got your own vibe. Now quietly tell me, what clothing options do you have? I’ll help you.”]

Palak smiled a little, comforted by Anushka’s words.
“Achha... toh black off-shoulder ya rust-coloured?” she finally asked.

[“Okay... so, black off-shoulder or the rust-coloured?”]

And just like that, the anxiety started fading—with a little push from a friend who knew exactly what to say.

After deciding they dialed Manya, and on the second ring, she picked up with an extra dose of enthusiasm.

"Oyee sunno!" she practically shouted, "Tum dono apne kapde uthao aur seedha Kriti di ke saath Vatsal bhai aur Pranjal ke ghar pahucho! Saath me ready honge sab, full fun vibe!"

[“Hey listen! You both grab your clothes and head straight to Kriti di’s place with Vatsal bhai and Pranjal! Everyone’s getting ready together — full fun vibe!”]

Anushka groaned in frustration, flopping onto the bed. "Ughh! Maine toh abhi tak kuch socha hi nahi kya pehnungi!"

["I didn't even decide what i should wear"]

"Tu sab mein acchi lagti hai, kuch bhi pehen le," Palak said, trying to calm her down. "Waise bhi 2-3 options rakh le, waha decide karenge kya pehna hai."

["You look good in everything, no matter what you wear. But still, keep 2–3 options — we’ll decide what to wear."]

"Haan haan! Aur jaldi aa jana warna log aane lag jayenge, phir dressing room bhi nahi milega!" Manya added, her tone warning but playful.

["Yes, yes! And come quickly, or people will start arriving — then you won’t even get the dressing room!"]

"Okay!!" both Anushka and Palak replied at once, already scrambling to throw outfits into a tote bag.

And just like that, the pre-party chaos had officially begun.

Pranjal lay sprawled on his bed, all dressed up, lazily scrolling through his phone. Across the room, Adhvik sat comfortably on the bean bag, half-focused on his screen when his phone buzzed.

Notification: Manya 🐒
"Anushka, Kriti di, Palak ke saath aa rhi hu! Vahi taiyaar honge."

["Anushka, I’m coming with Kriti di and Palak! We’ll get ready there."]

Adhvik smirked as he read it, imagining the chaos that was about to unfold.
Meanwhile, Pranjal’s scrolling came to a pause as his thumb hovered over Palak’s latest Instagram note.

🎶 Sun Saathiya...
My heart’s ready. My words? Not quite.”

He stared at it for a moment, the soft melody echoing in his head. He didn’t entirely understand what she meant—but somehow, it felt like her. Soft. Conflicted. Beautiful.

His mind wandered to her clumsiness, that signature eye-roll she gave every time someone teased her, the way she turned awkward moments into adorable ones.

He found himself smiling without even realizing.
“Oh bhai!! Sunnega! Kaha khoya hai tu!” Adhvik’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

["Oh bro!! Are you even listening?! Where’s your mind lost!"]

Pranjal blinked, still slightly dazed. “Haan bol…” he mumbled, eyes still fixed on his phone.

[“Yes?”]

“Vatsal bhai bula rahe hai!” Adhvik said, standing up and stretching. Without another word, both of them headed downstairs, one still thinking about a girl who had no idea what she meant to him.

[“Vatsal bhai is calling!”]