Palak and Anushka were on their way to Vatsal’s house, and Kriti was walking alongside them, slightly distracted by her phone.

Suddenly, her phone lit up with a notification.

Baba Lalten: Knock knock!

Kriti smiled subtly at the message and quickly typed back:

Kriti:

Drop the act, Arnav. Bolo, baat kya hai?

[Stop pretending, Arnav. Tell me, what’s the matter?]

Baba Lalten:

Are you coming to the house party or not?

Kriti decided to mess with him a little and typed:

Kriti:

Not at all, I am not coming.

There was a short pause before he replied:

Baba Lalten:

Okey! So I will also not go.

Kriti grinned and rolled her eyes before replying:

Kriti:

Oyee, aa rahi hoon. Nakhre mat dikhao, muh utha ke aa jao. Byee, see you at the party!

[Hey, I’m coming. Don’t throw tantrums, just lift your face and come! Bye, see you at the party!]

Baba lalten:

Byeee byeee, khoobsurat mahila.

[Bye bye, beautiful lady.]

A soft smile spread across Kriti’s face, her cheeks tinged with a light blush.

But as soon as she noticed Palak and Anushka watching her with raised brows and curious expressions, she quickly pressed her lips together and pretended to scroll through her phone, trying to appear completely disinterested.

Palak and Anushka exchanged a glance—half amused, half confused—clearly unsure of what they had just witnessed.

Palak twirled the bike keys around her fingers, a mischievous glint in her eyes."Didi, main Bullet se jaungi. Anu baby mere saath jayegi. Tum aa jaana auto se ya apni scooty se," she chirped confidently, almost as if she were announcing a victory.

[“Didi, I’m going on the Bullet. Anu baby will come with me. You can follow us—either by auto or on your scooty”]

Kriti shot her a sharp side-eye, the elder-sibling energy radiating in full force."Nautanki mat kar, Palak. Raste mein police ne pakad liya na, toh kalyan ho jayega," she warned, her tone dipped in both irritation and inevitability.

[“Don’t be dramatic, Palak. If the police catch you on the way, we’re all doomed.”]

Kriti shot her a sharp side-eye, the elder-sibling energy radiating in full force."Nautanki mat kar, Palak. Raste mein police ne pakad liya na, toh kalyan ho jayega," she warned, her tone dipped in both irritation and inevitability.

[“Don’t be dramatic, Palak. If the police catch you on the way, we’re all doomed.”]

Palak only flashed a cheeky grin, unfazed."Aisa nahi hoga kyunki... kyunki Bullet ke side mein Army ka stamp hai! Arey papa ki Bullet kaam kab aayegi?" she winked.

[“That’s not going to happen because… because there’s an Army stamp on the side of the Bullet! Come on, when else will Papa’s Bullet come in handy?”]

Kriti could only glare, knowing full well this was going to end exactly how she feared—but Palak had already swung her leg over the bike, firing up the engine.

Anushka looked back at Kriti with a sheepish, apologetic smile before hopping on the Bullet behind Palak.

Adjusting her helmet with theatrical flair, Palak called out,"Didu, don’t worry. Speed control rahega. No fikar, no fear, jab aapki behen is here!"And just like that, she roared off onto the road, as if she were in some adrenaline-fueled movie montage.

[“Don’t worry, didu. I’ll keep the speed under control. No stress, no fear—when your sister is here!”]

Kriti let out a long, tired sigh, her fingers tightening around her scooty’s handles."Ishi baat ka toh fikar aur fear hai... ki tu leke ja rahi hai," she muttered under her breath, and started her scooty, trailing after her younger sister

[“That’s exactly what I am stressed and scared about—that you’re the one taking her’’]

---

Vatsal stood outside the house, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently as he watched the final touches of the outdoor preparations coming together. Inside, however, his so-called partners in crime—Pranjal and Adhvik—were blissfully lounging without a care in the world.

Just then, his phone buzzed with a notification.

Group: Dholakpur Ki Teen Bheem

Choti Bahu Kangjuri (Palak) 🎃: “Plan yaad hai na sabko, ki dobara repeat karu?”

("Everyone remembers the plan, right? Or should I repeat it again?")

Surpanakha (Adhvik) 🧞‍♀️: “हां भाई, पता है. तू पहले यहां तपाक, फिर व्याख्यान देना।”

("Yes, we know. Just show up here first, then give us your lecture.")

Vatsal stared at the screen, sighed heavily, and shook his head. “This is the team I’m relying on…”

Just then, Adhvik and Pranjal finally strolled out of the house, still in no rush. But Adhvik’s phone pinged again, this time from another infamous group chat.

Group: Dholakpur ke Teen Bheem

(The trio's secret group chat: Vatsal, Palak, and Adhvik—formed for three very critical missions:)

1. Help Vatsal win Anushka’s heart.

2. Help Palak win her love, Pranjal.

3. Help Adhvik annoy Manya (because both Palak and Vatsal had betrayed Manya’s trust just to rope in the master of all gossip—Adhvik. No one knew more than he did.)

Mayandari (Palak): “Agar aaj kaam complete karne mein dikkat hui na toh Mangal Singh tu gaya!”

("If there's any issue came today before completing the plan, Mangal Singh, you're finished!")

Kirmada (Vatsal): “Haan, yeh idea diya hai na ki propose karo aaj Anushka ko... yeh bhi aaj gaya mere haathon!”

("Yes, it was your idea to propose to Anushka today… if it goes wrong, you're done too!")

Adhvik let out a long, deep sigh. The sheer drama of these two. Still, with the poise of someone who thrived under pressure, he typed confidently:

Adhvik: “क्या सब सही होगा पक्का.”

("Guys, everything will go well.")

Pranjal looked at Adhvik, who was completely engrossed in his phone, typing with intense focus. Just as Adhvik approached the doorway—still glued to the screen—he didn’t see what was ahead and was about to collide into the doorframe.

Pranjal instinctively reached out, grabbing Adhvik’s hand to stop him—but in the chaos, both of them tripped and fell flat on the ground right in front of Vatsal.

The thud echoed across the porch.

Startled, Vatsal jumped in panic. But as soon as he saw the tangled mess of limbs on the ground, his panic turned to disbelief.

At that very moment, Palak arrived, screeching her Bullet to a halt. Anushka was right behind her. As they stepped out and spotted the scene, Palak blinked rapidly—like her brain was struggling to process what exactly was happening.

There they were: Pranjal’s hand on Adhvik’s waist, one hand tightly clutching his, while Adhvik had his arm wrapped around Pranjal’s waist in what looked like a terribly confusing embrace.

Before anyone could even speak, Manya showed up, carrying shopping bags, only to freeze mid-step. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of Adhvik and Pranjal on the floor.

Adhvik, Vatsal, and Pranjal all turned to look at their stunned audience.
Pranjal, face flushed with embarrassment, quickly shoved Adhvik off and stood at his feet.

Vatsal tried to ease the awkwardness of the situation and let out a strange, nervous laugh.
"Are sab aa gaye hain... Pranjal, Palak ko kamraa de de naa. Guest room mein bahut log hain. Ek kaam kar, apne room mein hi le ja, thik?"

("Everyone's here now... Pranjal, just give Palak the room. The guest room is too crowded. Do one thing — take her to your room, okay?”)

Pranjal, who had been silently watching Palak, quickly looked away the moment her eyes met his.
"Bhai, mujhe kuch lene jaana tha. Adhvik dikha dega," he said,avoiding everyone’s gaze. Without another word, he walked away, leaving behind a strange silence.

("Bro, I had to go get something. Adhvik will show her,”)

Palak and Vatsal’s eyes met. For a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them. Vatsal nodded gently, offering silent reassurance. With that, Palak and Anushka quietly walked away, their footsteps fading into the background.

Manyaa, however, stood frozen, lost in thought. Her eyebrows slightly furrowed as if piecing something together. Vatsal noticed and walked over to her. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he gently tapped her forehead with his fingers.

Placing his hand lightly on her shoulder, Vatsal leaned in and said quietly,
"Manya, main dheere-dheere sure ho raha hoon ki na… ki Adhvik aur Pranjal ke beech kuch chal raha hai. Tu samajh rahi?"

("Manya, I’m slowly starting to believe… that something is going on between Adhvik and Pranjal. Do you get what I mean?”)

Manya scrunched her face, clearly disturbed by the idea.
"Mujhe bhi kuch aisa hi lag raha hai bhai… bechari Palak… kya hoga uska..."

("I’m feeling the same, bhai... poor Palak, what will happen to her?”)

They both looked at each other, slowly shaking their heads in helpless disbelief.

Pranjal’s room was neat and orderly — a quiet reflection of his disciplined mind. Books lined the shelves that dominated most sides of the room, claiming most of the space like a proud monument of knowledge.
Medals hung in perfect rows, gleaming softly under the light. Photographs added warmth: with his family and Vatsal, another with Adhvik, each capturing pieces of his story.
In the corner rested a guitar beside a football and basketball — hints of the boy behind the books.

Two doors stood at the back — one clearly a bathroom, the other closed, unfamiliar, and quietly mysterious.

Anushka and Palak placed their bags in the room and settled in, waiting for Kriti and Manya to come upstairs.
Palak sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, mind drifting far away. But suddenly, something clicked. Her fingers reached for the phone, and she began typing swiftly.

Palak typed:
"@Jheet ji @Mangalsingh"

A second later, she continued typing without hesitation:
"Vatsal Mishra chup chaap aa ke mera kaam kar do. Phir matakte rehna Masakali ki tarah. Aur Adhvik, jo kaam bola tha, kar dena. Clear and out!!!!!!"

("Vatsal Mishra, just come quietly and do my work. Then you can keep fluttering around like Masakali. And Adhvik, finish the task I gave you. Clear and out!!!!!!”)

She hit send with a smirk and glanced sideways at Anushka, who was lying back, scrolling through her phone as if the world had paused.

Palak rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.
"Brooo… beta ja ke tayyar ho. Abhi tak dress bhi final nahi hai teri. Kaun leke aaya hai usme se select kar. Main washroom se aayi."

("Brooo… please get ready now. You haven’t even finalized your dress yet. Pick something from what we brought. I’m going to the washroom, will be back.”)

She turned to leave, her footsteps soft, but paused at the doorway. Something tugged at her. She turned back and stood nervously, rubbing her fingers together.

"Anu," she called out, voice unsure.

Anushka lifted her gaze, curious.
"Haan?"

(“Yes”)

Palak didn’t wait. She shut her eyes and blurted it out, voice rushed and shaky.
"Main aaj Pranjal ko apne dil ki baat kehne wali hoon."

("I'm going to confess my feelings to Pranjal today.”)

Anushka froze. For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then she got up, walked over to Palak, and pulled her into a sudden hug.

Palak stood there stunned.
"Tu mujhe gussa nahi hai?"

("You're not angry at me?”)

Anushka chuckled gently, holding her tight.
"Ayee, main kyun? Waise bhi mujhe laga tha kabhi na kabhi kuch aisa hoga. Aur yaad hai, us din jab tu uske liye woh special gift bana rahi thi? Tab hi main damn sure ho gayi thi."

("Why would I be? Honestly, I always had a feeling this would happen one day. And remember that day you were making a special gift for him? That’s when I became completely sure.”)

Palak's throat tightened with emotion as she hugged her even harder.
"Thank you so much… itna samajhne ke liye. Tujhe lagta hai na Pranjal mujhe pasand karega?"

("Thank you so much… for understanding me so well. Do you think Pranjal will like me?”)

Anushka broke the hug, held her face with both hands, and smiled with all the love she had.
"Haan meri mithi churi, kyun nahi karega? Itni sundar, itni talented hai meri jaan. Zaroor karega. Ab jaa, jaldi washroom se aa aur tayyar ho ja. Late nahi hona."

("Of course he will, my sweet little troublemaker. You’re so beautiful and so talented. He definitely will. Now go, freshen up and get ready. We don’t want to be late.”)

Palak gave a beaming smile and dashed toward the washroom, her heart fluttering with nervous excitement.

Anushka stood still for a moment, then closed her eyes and whispered,
"Please God… meri Palak ko kisi ki nazar na lage. Theek?"

("Please God… keep my Palak safe from any evil eyes. Please.”)

She turned toward the cupboard and started going through her dresses. Her hands hovered over the collection she rarely touched. She had many beautiful outfits, but most had remained unworn.

She never felt confident in short dresses — her insecurities always held her back. The only time she wore such outfits was for formal functions with her parents. And tonight, this house party felt like unknown territory.

She sat back, unsure, and stared at the options. After several moments of hesitation, she finally picked up a simple, elegant black dress. It wasn’t too bold, but it made her feel good.

A smile tugged at her lips.
"I think I’ll wear this… to be safe."

Unseen by her, Vatsal stood at the doorway, arms crossed. He had been watching her silently for the past ten minutes, a small storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.

He let out a low sigh and murmured to himself,
"Ufff… that’s not at all safe for me."

Anushka suddenly looked toward the door and saw Vatsal standing there, his eyes fixed on her.

And just like that, her mind drifted back to yesterday — to the very moment he had convinced her to come to the house party.

Flashback:

Vatsal was waiting outside the chemistry class, pacing slightly, checking his phone every few seconds. He had come with a plan — not to impress her with words, but with a pinch of jealousy. Just to know if she still cared… if his attention to someone else would stir something inside her.

The moment he spotted Anushka walking out of class, he quickly moved toward a group of girls nearby, casually joining their conversation and laughing — a little too loudly, a little too easily.

Anushka noticed him. Her eyes narrowed.

There he was — smiling, chatting with other girls like she meant nothing. A strange, burning sensation spread in her chest. She didn’t like it. Not one bit. She didn’t like the way he was looking at them, smiling at them. She didn’t want him to be around anyone else.

He stole a glance at her, then purposely turned his expression cold, eyes narrowing as if angry at her.

Under his breath, Vatsal muttered, "Beti main gaya…"

(Girl, I’m dead…)

Anushka glared at him and walked away without a word.

Vatsal excused himself from the girls and immediately ran after her.

“Anushka, suno! Aree ek baar sun toh lo!”

(Anushka, listen! Just once, please listen!)

But Anushka ignored him completely, just like we all get ignored by the person we secretly like.

He quickened his pace and gently caught her wrist, turning her around to face him.

Anushka stopped and looked him dead in the eye. “Chup chap yaha se nikal jao, Vatsal Mishra… warna muh tod dungi.”

(Leave quietly from here, Vatsal Mishra… or I’ll break your face.)

She turned to walk away, but felt a soft tug on her wrist again.

Her voice laced with irritation, she snapped, “Kyaaa hai?”

(What is it now?)

With a softness she didn’t expect, Vatsal replied, “Pyaar.”

(Love.)

Anushka rolled her eyes, thinking he was joking again. “Har ladki se hota hai tumhe… kya nayi baat hai?”

(You fall for every girl… what’s new?)

But this time, Vatsal looked straight into her eyes and said with quiet intensity, “Sirf tumse hai… aur rahega.”

(Only with you… and it will always be.)

Her eyes locked with his, but then an image flashed in her mind — him laughing with those girls. That jealousy crept back in like a tide. She pulled her hand free and started walking again.

Vatsal followed hurriedly. “Are yaar, sorry! Aage se nahi karunga na, madam!”

(Hey! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, promise, madam!)

She shot him a deadly glare. “Jaa ke wahi ladkiyon se muh maro! Aur unko kehna house party mein aane ke liye! Mere samne muh mat dikhana… apna nikalo!”

(Go flirt with those girls! Ask them to come to the house party! Just don’t show your face to me again… now leave!)

Vatsal made a face like he was about to cry. “Sorry! Ab kisi se baat nahi karunga! Pakka kisi se nahi karunga!”

(Sorry! I won’t talk to anyone else! Promise, I swear I won’t!)

But she walked ahead, not bothering to look back. Still… a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. One she was desperately trying to hide. One she failed to hide.

And then came his loud voice from behind — full of drama and a hint of mischief,

“Agar aap nahi aayi na… toh party cancel! Isliye aa hi jayegi Madam ji!”

(If you don’t come… the party’s cancelled! That’s why you’ll have to come, Madam!)

Flashback ends.

Both Anushka and Vatsal snapped out of their thoughts the moment they heard Palak’s voice echo across the room.

Palak, eyeing Vatsal sharply, said, “Aa gaye Maharaj ji! Mujhe laga aarti utar ke banwaungi tab padhariye ga aap!”

(So, His Highness has finally arrived! I thought I’d have to perform a whole welcome ritual before you'd grace us with your presence!)

Vatsal shot back with equal sarcasm, “Haan haan, aapke paas aane ke liye bhi humein chaar logon se appointment leni padhi thi na! Tab jaake mauka mila hain... biggi billi kahi ki!”

(Yes yes, even to get near you, I had to take appointments from four different people! Finally got the chance now… you oversized cat!)

Palak gave him a cold glare and fired back, “Kutte ko biscuit khilana aur tumhara dum hilana ek hi baat hai samjhe Mishra khandaan ki aulaad!”

(Feeding a dog a biscuit and you wagging your tail are the same thing—got it, son of the Mishra family?)

Vatsal was about to retort when Anushka intervened with a sigh, “Ho gaya bas dono ka? Abhi Vatsal, jao yaha se. Humein tayaar hona hai.”

(Are you both done now? Vatsal, leave please. We need to get ready.)

Palak raised her hand quickly, stopping him. “Arey,  Ruk ja pehle. Isko mera ek kaam karne de.”

(He’ll go, wait a second. Let him do one thing for me first.)

She walked over to her bag, pulled out a small box, and handed it to Vatsal.

Palak, her face lighting up with a soft, hopeful smile, said, “Isko Pranjal ke us jagah par rakh dena. Woh pakka open karega… aur usko dekh lega. Aaj usse jo kehna hai, uske baad main yeh surprise dena chahti hoon.”

(Place this at Pranjal’s usual spot. He will definitely open it… and he’ll see it. After I say what I need to say to him today, I want to give him this surprise.)

Vatsal nodded, took the box, and walked toward Pranjal’s wardrobe. He opened it carefully and placed the box inside.

While closing the wardrobe, he mumbled, “Aisa kya khaas  hai isme…”

("What's so special in it?”…)

Palak, lost in her own dreamy world, said with a soft sigh, “Jo bhi hai... bas mere armaanon ko poora kar raha hai. Mere bucket list ka pehla cheez hai. Ab tu jaa… humein tayaar hone de.”

(Whatever it is... it’s fulfilling my desires. It’s the first thing on my bucket list. Now go… let us get ready.)

Before Vatsal could say anything, she pushed him gently out of the room.

Vatsal stood outside for a second, adjusting his kurta collar, and muttered, “Yeh bhi theek hai…”

(This is fine too…)

He then walked downstairs, heading toward the living area to check the party arrangements one last time.

Manya, Anushka, Palak, and Kriti stood in front of the mirror, each looking like they stepped out of a magazine cover.

Anushka kept it elegant and effortless, dressed in a sleek black dress with thin straps. Her hair flowed freely, soft waves resting over her shoulders, and her makeup was minimal—just a hint of gloss and kohl to bring out her natural charm.

Palak turned heads in a short red backless dress. The lace trim added a playful touch, and the dress hugged her just right. Her look was bold yet graceful. A small smirk danced on her lips—she knew she looked stunning.

Kriti opted for a classic vibe, draped in a long black dress with a thigh-high slit, paired with a delicate diamond choker. Her hair was styled in a soft updo, leaving strands to gently frame her face.

Manya matched the mood, her black strappy satin dress with an open-back design screaming confidence. Her curls were tied into a loose ponytail, and her eyes sparkled with fierce energy.

Anuskha, while looking at Palak with a teasing smile:
"Tujhe humsa odd one out rehne ka zyada shock hai?"

(You just love being the odd one out among us, don’t you?)

Palak, looking at her with a playful shrug:
"Broo, reason hai! I have to match with Pranjal naa, that’s why."

(Bro, there’s a reason! I have to match with Pranjal, that’s why.)

Kriti rolls her eyes and says with a smirk:
"Haa haa, Pranjal ki chamchi!"

(Yeah yeah, Pranjal’s little sidekick!)

They started walking downstairs as the party was about to begin. Just then, Anuskha spotted Riya quietly stepping out of a room — it was Vatsal's room.

Anuskha frowned slightly, puzzled. She thought to herself that maybe Riya had gotten lost or taken a wrong turn.

She chose to ignore it for now, brushing off the strange moment as just a coincidence.

Adhvik was at the counter, drinking a cold drink, when he noticed Manya coming downstairs with Palak.

Adhvik in an all-black ensemble — sleek turtleneck, bold belt, and leather jacket — radiating power, confidence, and quiet intensity.

Adhvik, who was drinking cola, suddenly spat it out and said,
"Dikkhar hain ladki tum par, tum narak ke roop mein garam ho."

(Girl, you're visible—and you look dangerously hot like hellfire.)

Pranjal, who was standing beside him, wasn’t paying attention.
He looked effortlessly bold in a deep red satin shirt paired with a sharp black suit. The silver chain around his neck added just the right touch of rebellious charm—striking, smooth, and unforgettable.
He glanced at Palak, but not directly. He was looking into a side mirror that reflected Palak, quietly admiring her.
Then suddenly, he shook his head and walked away without saying a word.

Palak noticed him not looking at her, and her face fell slightly. But then she quickly cheered herself up, thinking,
"Maybe he didn’t notice I’m here."

Vatsal was frozen in his place, looking at Anushka, and Anuskha was looking right back at him.
She thought he looked nice.
Vatsal carried classic elegance in a white shirt and black waistcoat, his blazer draped casually over his shoulder. With calm confidence in his eyes and timeless style in his step, he looked like a modern-day prince.

Vatsal, while looking at her, said,
"Black is my favourite colour, but black never looked this beautiful ever."

Anuskha, while looking at him, thought,
"He looks too good in black. Just like a charming prince, just like the one I imagined in my dreams.”

Arnav, who had just entered the party, immediately spotted Kriti.
As soon as Kriti looked at him, he winked at her.
Kriti quickly turned her face to the other side, trying to hide her blush.

Arnav looked effortlessly handsome in a classic white shirt paired with a deep black suit, casually leaning with undeniable charm — the open collar revealing just enough to keep the mystery alive.

Meanwhile, Manya, full of excitement, rushed over to her brother Vatsal and asked,
"How do I look?"

Before Vatsal could answer, Adhvik, who was now standing beside him, smirked and interrupted with a mischievous grin,

"Bilkul ganji chudail jaisi."

(Exactly like a bald witch.)

Manya turned to him with a sassy tone and shot back,
"Aur tu toh chudail ke bhi baap jaisa lag raha hai, black mein, papa se chura ke aaya hai kya outfit?"

(And you look like the father of witches. Did you borrow that outfit from your dad?)

Vatsal burst into laughter,
"Tum dono kabhi nahi sudhroge."

(You two will never change.)

Anuskha, watching the trio from a distance, smiled ,"Manya aur Adhvik ka daily ka comedy show shuru ho gaya."

(Manya and Adhvik daily comedy show has begun.)

Kriti chuckled and replied,
"Bas popcorn ki kami hai."

(Just missing some popcorn now.)

Palak, passing by them, commented with a playful tone,
"Yeh party nahi, circus lag rahi hai."

(This doesn’t feel like a party—it’s starting to look like a circus.)

Adhvik overhearing that, walked past with a smirk and added,
“Aur main raat main aap log ke liye laal naakh wala bannu aur woh karu usko kya kehte usko”?

(“And should I become the red-nosed clown for you all at night… and do that… what do you call it… yeah, that thing!”)

Palak: Kisko beh?

(To whom?)

Adhvik, placing his hand dramatically on his forehead, Are wahiiii... Hindi mein kya kahegi usko?

(Ugh that... how would you even say that in Hindi?)

Everyone looked at him in confusion.

He quickly pulled out his phone, opened Google, and began typing seriously.

Adhvik, “Haan milgaya, ye kahenge!"

(Yes! Got it! This is what we’ll say!)

Everyone stared at him, puzzled.

All together: Kya kahenge?

(What will you say?)

Adhvik, flashing a million-dollar smile: Manoranjan! Yahi lagta phir kya!

(Entertainment! That’s what this feels like, what else!)

Adhvik while completing whole line, "तुम लोग के लिए लाल नख वाला बन कर रात भर मनोरंजन करो क्या मैं”

("Should I become a red-nosed clown for you all and entertain you the whole night?”)

All of them gave him a “what the hell” expression, but Adhvik continued to grin like he had just won a lottery.

He kept typing on Google, scrolling through translations, and then suddenly declared dramatically:

Adhvik,"तुम लड़कियाँ आग की तरह लग रही हो, जो बिना सोचे समझे लड़कों का दिल जला सकती हो!”

(You girls look like fire—burning boys' hearts without thinking twice!)

"फूल को गुलाब कहते हैं, जीवन को दरब कहते हैं, और जो तुम्हें देख कर न पिगले, उसको ज़ुखाम कहते हैं!”

(A flower is called a rose, life is called a struggle, and the one who doesn’t melt after seeing you is definitely suffering from a cold!)

Everyone instantly covered their faces, trying hard to control their laughter.

But Palak couldn’t hold it in—she burst out laughing loudly, unable to stop.

Adhvik, while giving a cheeky smile, ““एक और, एक और वाक्य बोलना चाहूंगा आप स्त्री को।
मगर मैं अपने दुश्मन को ये वचन बोलना जरूरी समझता हूं।”

(“I would like to say one more sentence to you woman. But I feel it is necessary to say these words to my enemy.”)

He turns to Manya, who was already irritated by his comments earlier,
"क्या तुम सूर्या हो? क्योंकि तुम मुझे जला देते हो और अंधा कर देते हो, और फिर भी मैं अपनी नजरें नहीं हटा पाता।”

("Are you the sun? Because you burn me and blind me, and yet I still can’t take my eyes off you.")

Manya, not fully getting his words, snaps,“Ayeeee! Kya bole? Mujhse jalan hai toh jal na bhai, sek le pakode. Main kya karun tera?”

("What did you say? If you're jealous of me, then burn, fry some pakoras while you're at it. What do you expect me to do?")

Adhvik while looking at her :- Ek aur ek aur Manya ji
"तुम जैसी कन्या को देख, मेरी आत्मा में कंपन उत्पन्न होता है।"

(Seeing a maiden like you… vibrations are created in my soul.)

Vatsal, shaking his head at their bickering, grabs Adhvik by the collar and starts pulling him away,“Tu chal, mere saath chal ke kaam kar. Yahan nallo ki tarah naa timepass mat kar.”

("You come with me, come and do the work. Stop loitering around like a drain.")

Adhvik, trying to break free dramatically,
“Aree Bratashri! Humse kripya karke apne shubh hast (haath) ko hataye aur hum apne yugm (feet) se prasthan kar sakte hain.”

("Brother! Please remove your holy hand from me so that I may proceed with my own pair of legs.")

Palak, already laughing at Adhvik’s lines, bursts out even more.
Vatsal, ignoring all the nonsense, drags him away.

Meanwhile, Anushka, Manya, and Palak are busy talking, while Kriti is standing at the drinks counter sipping her cold drink.
She notices the rivals of the match—St. Xavier’s students—entering, along with some seniors of their own school.

From a distance, Arnav watches.
He slowly walks over and quietly stands beside Kriti.

Kriti, sipping her drink, says without looking at him,
“Stop looking at me with those eyes.”

Arnav, still watching her, “What eyes?”

Kriti turns to him with a calm expression,
“Like you have something on your mind and your tongue… but you’re too afraid to say it out loud.”

Arnav steps a little closer, takes the drink gently from her hand,
“What I have on my tongue, Miss Kriti…
I hate when you don’t give me attention, you know.”

Kriti chuckles and leans a little closer to him,“Because I don’t want to, Mr. Baba Lalten.”

Arnav, now closing the distance even more,“Why do you always call me that?”

Kriti, smiling with a twinkle in her eye,“Kyunki fokat ka gyan sirf tum dete ho. Apply karna aata hai kya?”

("Because you only give free wisdom. Do you even know how to apply it?")

Arnav chuckles softly,“I love this attitude of yours. The ‘I don’t care’ vibe.
And I was saying…”

Kriti interrupts with her hand raised casually,“Yaa yaa... and stop.
I don’t want to hear the words you have in your heart or on your tongue.
Better not to spill.”

Arnav, locking eyes with her, says quietly,“Do you know I have a crush on you?”

Kriti is taken aback by the sudden confession,“I know that. But do you actually know what that means?”

Arnav, his gaze unwavering,“Haan haan, crush wahi hota hai jise dekh ke dil mein halchal ho!
Magar aukaat se bahar ho!!”

("Yeah, a crush is someone who makes your heart race the moment you see them…
But they’re way out of your league!!”)

Kriti chuckles in response,“Ussi tarah main tumhaari aukaat se bahar hoon. Main nahi pattaungi.”

("Just like that, I’m out of your league too. I won’t be yours.")

Arnav gently touches her face with one hand, voice softer now,“Patta kaun raha hai? Main toh bas chaah raha hoon, pyaar kar raha hoon.
Pataana kisko hai?
Humhe toh dil lagana hai!!”

("Who’s trying to win you over? I’m just wanting you, loving you.
I don’t need to win against anyone…
I just want to give my heart.")

Kriti’s breath catches in her throat. She doesn’t respond.

Arnav, still holding her cold drink glass, notices the lipstick mark.
He runs his finger across the mark, then takes a sip from the exact spot—his eyes locked on her.

"Warning: I'm not good at flirting. I’ll just tell you straight—I want you.
Are you always this hot, or is it just when I’m around?"

Kriti, cheeks flushed, doesn’t say anything.
She pushes him slightly to the side and walks away—her face red with blush.

Arnav, still sipping the same drink from the same glass, murmurs to himself with a small smile,“Hsssh… How much I'm whipped for this girl...
I think too much...
Tussi gaye, Arnav Bhalla!”

Adhvik, Palak, and Vatsal were standing in a row, munching chips and glaring at their so-called targets—Pranjal, Anushka, and Manya—the trio they were hopelessly whipped for but would never, ever admit it.

The three were busy socializing.

Anushka was talking to some students, answering questions, flashing her trademark confident smile.
Pranjal was stuck in a conversation with some senior girls, clearly uncomfortable, but putting up with it politely so as not to appear rude.
Manya was chatting animatedly with a group of boys from their class, laughing and tossing her hair like it was a shampoo ad.

Palak, while passing the chips to Vatsal, huffed,
“Saala... tumhara bhai jabse aayi hoon meri taraf dekha tak nahi! Udhar dekho kaise matak matak ke baat kar raha hai.”
Her face twisted into irritation as she jabbed the chip packet towards him.

(“Damn it... your brother hasn’t even looked at me since I came. Just look at him over there, swaying and flirting while talking.”)

Vatsal, rolling his eyes with an exaggerated sigh,
“Aur Anushka ko dekh! Kaise unse daant dikha ke baat kar rahi hai... mujhse baat karte time toh naak pe tamatar baith jaate hain uske.”

(“And look at Anushka! Smiling so widely while chatting with them. When she talks to me, it’s like she has a tomato stuck up her nose.”)

Adhvik, shoving a handful of chips in his mouth and trying to speak mid-chew,
“वो… पिशाचनी मुझसे… कलेश करती रहती है… और अब उनको अध्यापन क्यों दे रही है?”Whatever he said after that was unintelligible—only he seemed to understand himself.

(“That demoness always picks fights with me... and now suddenly she’s giving them attention?”)

The trio collectively let out a dramatic breath and continued to glare at their crushes, their eyes practically drilling holes through their bodies with intensity.

Palak, her irritation peaking, crossed her arms,
“Idhar main laal tamatar ban ke ekdum tyaar ho ke khadi hoon... meri beauty ki koi value hi nahi hai. Isse accha toh Sarsu aunty ke bete ke chacha ke mausi ke bete ka ladka hai—dekhta hai toh kam se kam hello toh kehta hai!”

(“Here I am, all dolled up like a ripe tomato, standing all dressed up and looking gorgeous, and nobody even values my beauty. Even that random guy—Sarsu aunty’s son’s uncle’s aunt’s nephew—at least he says hello when he sees me!”)

Adhvik and Vatsal stared at her blankly.
Adhvik, blinking in confusion,
"क्या बोला तूने? वापस बोल ज़रा।”

(“What did you just say? Say that again, please.”)

Palak, scrunching her nose and waving a dismissive hand,
“Maine kaha ki kam se kam compliment mil jaata hai usse. Woh... main Suresh chacha ke mausi ke beti ke bete ki shaadi mein gayi thi naa, tab mila tha mujhe.”

(“I said at least I get compliments from him. I met him at Suresh uncle’s aunt’s son’s wedding, remember?”)

The boys looked at her like she had grown horns.

Adhvik, placing one dramatic hand on her shoulder,
"अगर तूने ये सब करने की जगह, लीपा फूटी थोपने की जगह गणित के सवाल बनाए होते ना... तो शायद वो प्रश्न हो जाता। समझी, आधी गलती?”

“Agar tune yeh sab karne ki jagah, leepa phooti thopne ki jagah maths ke sawal banaye hote na... toh shayad woh prashan  ho jaata. Samjhi, aadhi kopadhi?”

(“If you’d spent even half the time doing math problems instead of putting on makeup, maybe he’d be impressed by now. Get it, half-brained queen?”)

Vatsal, placing his hand on her other shoulder, chimed in,
“Aur agar tu thodi hoshiyaar hoti na... aur tere paas dimaag hota, toh kab ka pata laga leti usse!”

(“And if you were just a little smarter, with a working brain, you’d have figured him out long ago!”)

Palak, rolling her eyes to 360° like a tough move, snapped,
“Oye bawaseer ke kaccho! Main maths karke kya ukhaad lungi? Sundar bankar bhut saare ladkon ka ukhaad dungi! Aur tu, Magal Singh, agar itna hi make-up pe gyaan de raha hai mujhe aur maths pe bhi... toh pehle Manya jab izzat utaarti hai na, comeback leke aaya kar. Tab mujhse baat karne aayiyo!”

(“Hey, you walking disease in underwear! What would solving math problems even do for me? By looking pretty, I’ll leave half the boys breathless!
And you—Magal Singh! If you're such an expert on makeup and math, then first bring a comeback when Manya ruins your self-respect.
Only then come lecture me!”)

She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Adhvikl,
“Jab woh machhar ki tarah tujhe maarna band kare, tab bolna!”

(“When she stops swatting you like a mosquito, then talk to me!”)

Vatsal muffled his laugh behind a cough, trying not to make eye contact.

Palak, now shifting her fiery gaze to Vatsal ,
“Aur tu... ostrich kahin ka! Jis din Anushka tujhe makhi ki tarah apne aas paas se hataana band kar de na... tab mujhse hoshiyaari ki baat karne aana! Bade aaye hoshiyaar! Ek aurat sambhalne ke naam pe pant geeli ho jaati hai... HUH!”

(“And you... you ostrich! The day Anushka stops swatting you away like a fly from around her, then come talk to me about intelligence!
Big words coming from someone who gets so nervous around a woman, he pees his pants!”)

Vatsal and Adhvik exchanged a silent glance. There was no comeback. Not right now.

Palak, catching a fleeting glance from Pranjal, who looked at her just for a second before turning away, growled under her breath,
“Ostrich aur Magal Singh!”

Vatsal and Adhvik, almost in chorus,
“Haan, bol!”

(“Yeah, say it!”)

Palak, with fire practically blazing in her eyes,
“Ab plan ke hisaab se aage badhte hain... aur unhe sabak sikhate hain!”

(“Now let’s go ahead with the plan, and make sure they learn their lesson!”)

Just then, the DJ blared the speakers with a beat drop—

🎵 “Mumbai Delhi di kudiyaan…” 🎵

The DJ’s speakers boomed louder—

🎵 “Maine sunna hai Mumbai Delhi di aa kudiyaan raat bhar nahi sonniyaan...” 🎵

Palak’s eyebrows shot up in pure confusion. She tilted her head slightly and muttered out loud,“That means Mumbai and Delhi girls are suffering from insomnia?”

Vatsal and Adhvik immediately slapped their hands on their foreheads, completely done with her. The sheer deadpan disbelief in their eyes said it all.

Palak, now completely serious, eyes wide as if she had made a breakthrough,
“Unhe doctor se consult karna chahiye. By chance depression mein ho toh... main apni maa ko suggest karungi. Psychiatrist ke liye paisa kamayegi—woh toh mujhe hi milenge naa. Achha idea hai na?”

(“They should consult a doctor. What if they’re actually depressed?
I’ll suggest my mom to offer her psychiatric services... she’ll earn money from that—
which means the money will eventually come to me.
Good idea, right?”)

Vatsal and Adhvik slowly turned to look at each other. Their expressions were of deep, spiritual exhaustion.
They looked like they were one sarcastic comment away from bursting into tears.

—-

Adhvik saw Manya walking away from the group of boys and heading toward the other side of the corridor. Sensing something was wrong, he quietly followed her. As he passed by one of the empty classrooms, he overheard some voices from inside.

Guy 1: “Did you see that girl Manya?”

Guy 2: “Yeah… that chubby one.”

Guy 1: “Yesss! The way she was looking, bro… I swear, I felt like doing something bad to her.”

Guy 2: “You thinking what I’m thinking? Like… mix something in her drink? One night stand?”

Guy 1: “Hell yeah! I’ll play with her first, then you can. What do you say?”

Guy 2: “Not a bad idea at all…”

They both burst out laughing, their sickening laughter echoing in the silence.

Adhvik, who had heard every disgusting word, stood frozen outside the door—his hands clenched, jaw tightened, and rage boiling in his blood. Without wasting a second, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The two boys stopped laughing abruptly, startled.

Guy 1 (irritated): “Tum kaun ho? Aur kya kar rahe ho yahan?”

Adhvik gave a slow, venomous smile, pulled a chair, and sat in front of them calmly.

Adhvik: “Tsk tsk tsk… baap se aisa sawaal thodi karte hain.”
(His eyes burning with silent fury.)

Guy 2: “Bakwaas band kar, aur nikal yahan se.”

Adhvik’s smirk deepened, his tone cold and cutting.

Adhvik: “Kaun yahan se niklega, yeh toh ab pata chalega.”

And in a flash, he picked up the chair and slammed it hard on Guy 1’s head. The guy let out a scream and fell off his chair, blood trickling from his forehead.

Guy 2 jumped up to attack, but Adhvik was faster. He grabbed his collar, pulled him forward, and punched him straight across the jaw—once, twice, thrice—until the guy collapsed against the wall, nose bleeding, face swollen.

Adhvik turned to Guy 1, who was trying to crawl toward the door. He stepped hard on his hand, cracking the fingers beneath his shoe.

Adhvik while hitting him continuously:
"Manyaaa ke baare mein bolega? Manya ke baare mein?! Kisi ne uski taraf aankh utha ke dekha toh barbaad kar dunga main! Manyaaa ke upar bolne ki himmat kaise hui?!"

("You’ll talk about Manya? About Manya?! If anyone even dares to look at her, I will destroy them! How dare you even think of speaking about her?!")

Guy 1 whimpered in pain.

Adhvik grabbed him by the collar and delivered one last punch, knocking him out cold.

Breathing heavily, his knuckles bleeding, Adhvik stood amidst the wrecked furniture and bruised faces.

Adhvik didn’t stop. He kept punching the guy, his fists landing with brutal force, again and again.

He grabbed the guy's collar, jerked him forward, and made him look straight into his fiery eyes.

"Just saying anything bad about Manya Oberoi means saying it about me… and I fucking hate when someone ever sees her with bad eyes. I will fucking not think twice before killing for her. Got the fuck, dammit!"

He smashed another punch across the guy’s jaw.

Blood splattered, a tooth flew out, and the boy collapsed.

Adhvik turned to the second guy, who had backed off, shaking in fear.

Adhvik furiously,
"Get lost before I kill you both here!"

Both of them, broken and terrified, stumbled out of the room. Their hands were twisted, their faces shattered, and their pride left behind.

{Adhvik Beta Shart Bhul Gaye kya magar kya karna hain Manya ne Todhi dekha  joker emoji
Koi Manya ko Ja ke nahi bateyga Sshhhh!}
---

Adhvik stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Blood stained his knuckles. His breathing was steady now. He cleaned his hands slowly, wiping them with tissue, his gaze locked onto his own reflection.

"Who can touch Manya Oberoi? Me. Who can make her irritated? Only me. Who can look at her? Only me. Her only and only enemy is me… and only fucking me."

He fixed his shirt, wiped off the last drop of blood from his hand, gave himself one last glance…

…and walked out of the bathroom, calm as if nothing had ever happened.

—---

Pranjal was standing at the drinks counter, casually sipping on a cold drink. He leaned against the table, lost in thought, when Adhvik walked up and spotted him.

Adhvik stared at Pranjal with a mischievous glint in his eyes, almost as if speaking a full sentence just with his expression. Then, a wicked idea crossed his mind.

He picked up a can from the table and began walking away. But just loud enough for Pranjal to hear, he muttered under his breath:

"आज तो पलक को पिला के टल्ली करवाऊंगा।”

("Today I’ll get Palak drunk.")

Pranjal instantly froze. He turned sharply, grabbed the can from Adhvik’s hand, eyes wide in shock.

"What the hell, Adhvik? Tu pagal ho gaya hai? Drink allowed nahi hai party mein! Yeh kaha se laya tu?"

("Are you crazy, Adhvik? Drinks aren't allowed at this party! Where did you even get this from?")

Adhvik gave a smug smirk, clearly enjoying the reaction.

""अरे वो पलक को पिलाने के लिए, उसको कोशिश/पिलाना करना था तो लाया था। और वैसे भी, कौन बच्चा है यहां? सब 18 के हैं या 18+।”

("Oh, it was to make Palak drink- i wanted to try it on her. And anyway, who’s a kid here? Everyone's either 18 or older.")

Pranjal glanced over at Palak, who was chatting with Anuskha and Manya across the room.

"Sab nahi hain. Palak abhi bhi 17 ki hi hai. Hum 18 ke hain, magar we still can’t drink. Never, ever. And don’t you dare give Palak this drink, samjha?"

("Not everyone. Palak is still 17. We may be 18, but we can’t drink. Never, ever. And don’t you dare give Palak this drink, understood?")

Adhvik’s smirk widened even more, clearly teasing.

"Bada pata hai Palak ke baare mein… itni fikar kis liye janab? Huh? Huuuuh?"

("You sure know a lot about Palak… why so much concern, mister? Hmmm?")

Pranjal ignored the question, placed the can aside, and started walking off, brushing past Adhvik.

"Adhvik, hatt ja. Jaane de. Mujhe kaam karna hai. Haath hata yahan se."

("Adhvik, move. Let me go. I have work to do. Move your hand away from here.")

Adhvik, instead of stepping aside, grabbed Pranjal’s wrist tightly, pulling him a little closer.

"Aise kaise Kammo Rani? Tumhare Bulbul ko jalao pehle, tab na mazza aayega."

("Why so cold, Kammo Rani? Burn your Bulbul with jealousy first, then it’ll be fun.")

Before Pranjal could reply, Adhvik let go, broke into a laugh, and ran off toward the DJ booth. He leaned in, whispered something to the DJ.

Moments later, the music changed—
A loud, thumping party track blasted through the speakers, drawing everyone's attention.

The music thumped louder as “Kaanta Laga” blasted through the speakers. Lights flickered like they were on a mission to embarrass someone, and that someone… was Pranjal.

Adhvik, swaying his hips like a Bollywood backup dancer who’d just become the main lead, strutted toward Pranjal with dangerous confidence. His eyes locked in, steps timed to the beat—he was having the time of his life.

Meanwhile, Pranjal backed away like a deer in headlights, visibly panicking, scanning the crowd for escape.

“Adh... Adhvik, dur dur ho ja! Main purush helpline mein call kar dunga!” His voice cracked halfway through.

(“Adh... Adhvik, stay away! I’ll call the men’s helpline!”)

But Adhvik was possessed by full-on item girl energy. He ignored every word, running a hand through his hair and replying with an exaggerated pout and syrupy tone,
“Haww, Pranjlu swami, tum aisa karoge mere sath? Hamare pyaar ko bhool gaye tum? Hayee!”

(“Haww, Pranjlu swami, would you really do this to me? Have you forgotten our love? Oh no!”)

With a dramatic twirl, he somehow pulled a dupatta from thin air and draped it around Pranjal like they were in a Karan Johar climax scene.

“Main toh tere pyaar mein bheeg gaya pranath… bhavuk ho gaya hoon main!”

(“I’ve drenched myself in your love, Pranath… I’ve become emotional!”)

Pranjal, red with embarrassment and horror, flung the dupatta off and stepped back. “Mujhe nahi banna tera babu Shona durr reh sanki aadmi ! Jaan chodo meri!”

( I don’t want to be your babu shona! Stay away, you crazy person! Let me live!”)

Across the room, Palak and Manya stood rooted to the floor, mouths parted in complete disbelief.

And at that precise moment, they both uttered the exact same words:

“Gay hain kya dono?”

(“Are both of them gay?”)

They turned to each other, stunned.

“You also—?” Palak blinked.

“Soul partner,” Manya whispered, eyes still wide.

For a second, they just stared. Then, without another word, both turned back to the spectacle in front of them, too hooked to blink.

Vatsal, who had been sipping from a paper cup, froze. His cup tilted. Cold drink spilled onto his shirt, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Mujhe sahi lagta hai… kuch toh chal raha hai dono ke beech,” he said in a deadpan voice, still staring ahead like he’d just witnessed history.

(“Mujhe sahi lagta hai… kuch toh chal raha hai dono ke beech”)

---

Back in the spotlight, Adhvik pointed a finger to the sky like Shah Rukh Khan in full drama mode and declared to the crowd:

“जा सिमरन जा... जी ले अपनी जिंदगी! लेकिन सिर्फ मेरे साथ!”

(“Go, Simran, go... live your life! But only with me!”)

Pranjal found a chair and held it between them like a warrior preparing for battle. “Peeche hat, Nachaniya! I am straight! Bohot zyada straight!”

(“Back off, dancer-boy! I am straight! Very, very straight!”)

Adhvik giggled as he leaned closer.

He typed in something in Google and the play the speaker to say the exact words
“शिशुः ऋजुः अहो वा आयताकारः अद्यापि त्वं मम हृदयस्य प्राणः, एवं मा पलायस्व मम प्रेम, एवं मा पलाय मम प्रेम, अहं त्वयि आसक्तः एव तिष्ठामि!”

“Bacha seedha oh ya aayataakaar phir bhi mere dil ki jaan ho aise durr na bhago piya aise na bhaago piya judi h rahe meri tujhse!”

(“Whether the child is straight or rectangle-shaped, you're still the heartbeat of my heart. Don’t run away from my love, my beloved, don’t run. I’m deeply attached to you and will stay that way!”)

The crowd erupted in laughter.

Palak leaned toward Manya and whispered, voice half-shocked, “Honestly, I don’t even care what they are anymore… this is better than Netflix.”

Manya nodded slowly, eyes still on the disaster. “And free.”

The DJ, clearly enjoying the chaos, switched the music to a romantic instrumental. The lights dimmed just enough to make it even more absurd.

Adhvik placed a hand over his chest and walked slowly, soulfully, to Pranjal, who was already preparing to run again.

“तुमसा कोई मासूम नहीं है तुम जान हो मेरी तुम्हें मालूम नहीं है तुचुक तुचुक...'’

(“No one is as innocent as you… you’re the love of my life, you just don’t know it… tuchuk tuchuk…”)

That was it.

Pranjal bolted like a track athlete, sprinting past the food table, knocking over a tray of samosas, and disappearing behind the curtains.

Adhvik stood center stage, arms out, wind (or fan) catching his shirt just right.

“मेरे प्रेम को समझो प्रांजलु मुझसे ज्यादा प्रेम तुमसे कोई नहीं कहेगा जानेमन!”

(“Understand my love, Pranjalu! No one will ever love you more than I do, sweetheart!”)

Videos were being recorded. Memes were being born. And the legend of Adhvik’s item number and Pranjal’s public escape was officially a part of school history.

Ansukha, Palak, Kriti, and Manya were laughing uncontrollably, sitting on the sofa after Adhvik’s wild performance. Meanwhile, Pranjal had vanished, probably hiding somewhere to salvage his dignity after being the center of Adhvik’s drama.

Vatsal and Arnav were trying hard to suppress their laughter, but soon enough, they gave in and started laughing along.

Palak, barely able to contain herself, said through giggles, “Adhvik, teri Mashakali kahan gayi?”

(“Adhvik, where did your Mashakali go?”)

Adhvik, slipping a toothpick in his mouth like it was a cigarette, leaned forward with a swagger and looked around dramatically, “बेगम नूर  हमारी अपने सोहर को देख के छुप गई होंगी आह जाएगी आप साबर रक्खे”

(“Begum Noor must have gone into hiding after seeing her husband like this... she’ll return. Just have patience.”)

All of them burst into loud laughter, clutching their stomachs, tears forming in the corners of their eyes because of Adhvik’s over-the-top antics.

---

Anushka and Kriti were talking and sipping their drinks, casually enjoying the moment, when a few seniors from their school stood not far behind them, whispering among themselves while eyeing their backs.

One of the boys leaned towards his friend and muttered something. They pulled out a sticky note, scribbled something on it, and then one of them casually walked over to their side. He deliberately bumped into Kriti, pretending it was an accident.

He said, “Sorry,” to her with a smirk and, in the same motion, slyly stuck the note on her back before walking away, grinning.

The boys at the back burst into laughter, trying to keep their voices low but failing.

Kriti and Anushka turned around, confused, staring at them. They didn’t understand what was going on.

One of the boys commented loud enough for them to hear:
“Ufff ufff, agar ab khud se compliment mangega toh koi kyun nahi dega bhai!”

("Ufff ufff, if he starts asking for compliments himself now, then why wouldn't someone give him one, bro!”)

The group laughed harder, still glancing at them.

Anushka’s eyes caught something odd on Kriti’s back. She leaned forward, gently turned her, and noticed the sticky note. On it, in bold letters, it was written:

“Looking hot and sexy, right? Then give me a comment, baby.”

Anushka snatched the note from Kriti’s back, her eyes narrowing as she glared fiercely at the laughing boys. Without saying a word, she crumpled the note in her hand and tossed it aside. Then she firmly grabbed Kriti’s hand and walked away with her.

Arnav, who was standing not too far away, had witnessed the entire thing. His eyes fell on the note lying crumpled on the ground. He picked it up, unfolded it, and read what was written.

His eyes darkened as he clenched the paper in his hand, crushing it into his fist.

Now he knew exactly what he was going to do.

Palak was standing at the drink counter when Arnav gave her a thumbs-up from across the hall. She picked up the glass from the tray and started walking toward the group of seniors. As she walked, she acted like she had lost balance, and suddenly, the tray slipped from her hands.

All the drinks went flying—landing right on the boys who were sitting there, laughing just moments ago.

Just when Palak was about to fall to the floor, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and held her close, stopping her fall.

The boys sat there soaked, shocked.

One guy shouted, “Oh f*! What the hell?!”**

Palak, who had expected to hit the ground, slowly opened one eye to see what had happened. She found herself in Pranjal’s arms, who was holding her protectively, his eyes filled with concern.

Pranjal gently helped her stand and began checking her hands and face.
“Are you okay, Pea… Palak?” he asked, his voice soft but firm.

Palak nodded her head in a yes.

One of the drenched guys looked at her and yelled,
“What the hell! Can’t you see? Dekh ke nahi chal sakti ho kya?!”

(Can’t you walk properly or what?!)

Palak, trying hard to act innocent—which she definitely wasn’t—replied,
“Woh dhyaan nahi gaya… pair phisal gaya… I didn’t mean to.”

(I wasn’t paying attention… I slipped… I didn’t mean to.)

And then in a quieter voice that only a few could catch, she added,
“What I’m trying to say is… not what you can get.”

Pranjal definitely heard that. He raised an eyebrow slightly, catching her hidden sarcasm.

The group of boys groaned and walked toward the bathroom to clean themselves off. Arnav quietly followed behind them, his face unreadable.

As Pranjal was about to walk away, Palak gently held his hand.

Palak, looking at him, said softly,
“Thank you… mujhe bachane ke liye.”

(Thank you… for saving me.)

Pranjal didn’t look at her and said,
“It’s okay. Tumhari jagah koi aur bhi hota toh main yahi karta.”

(It’s okay. Even if it were someone else in your place, I would’ve done the same.)

Then he slowly removed her hand from his and walked away.

_______

Arnav carefully sneaked inside the bathroom, trying to stay hidden while eavesdropping on the seniors' conversation. Just then, one of them turned toward his direction. Reacting instantly, Arnav opened the nearest door and slipped inside, quickly locking it behind him.

He took a deep breath, his back against the door. But as he turned around, he found Vatsal already standing inside—staring at him with a weird expression.

They looked at each other and both screamed at the top of their lungs:
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!”

And then, in perfect sync, both shouted
“Tum yaha kya kar rahe ho?!”

(What are you doing here?!)

Again, in perfect unison
“Maine pehle poocha!”

(I asked first!)

Vatsal rolled his eyes and said,
“Sankhi h kya? Meri izzat lootne aaya h tu? Har
jagah peecha nahi chharta, ab washroom mein bhi?!”

(Are you crazy? Here to ruin my dignity? You don’t leave me alone anywhere, now even in the washroom?!)

Arnav made a face and replied,
“Shauk nahi hai! Woh main bas achanak se ghus gaya… ja raha hu, ja raha hu!”

(I didn’t do it for fun! I just suddenly entered… I’m leaving, I’m leaving!)

He reached for the door handle, but when he tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge.

Still trying, Arnav shouted,
“What the f*! Yeh khul kyun nahi raha?!”**

(Why the hell isn’t this opening?!)

Vatsal slapped his forehead and said,
“Yeh lock kharab hai, isliye maine lock nahi kiya tha, pagal aadmi.”

(The lock is broken, that’s why I didn’t lock it, you idiot.)

Arnav looked at him in disbelief,
“Tu kaisa aadmi hai? Kaun aise washroom mein jaata hai jiska lock kharab ho? Aur itna bada ghar hai, ek lock thik nahi karwa sakta? Ab kya karein?!”

(What kind of person are you? Who uses a washroom with a broken lock? And such a big house, can't even fix a lock? Now what do we do?!)

Vatsal, equally irritated, replied,
“Main kya bataun kya karein? Nikalne ka sochte hain aur kya?!”

(What should I say? Let’s just think about how to get out!)

Arnav looked at him seriously,
“Phone laya hai tu?”

(Did you bring your phone?)

Vatsal shook his head,
“Kaun washroom mein phone leke aata hai, sanki?”

(Who brings a phone into the washroom, you lunatic?)

Arnav groaned, held his head, and sat down on the floor,
“Barbaad ho gaya main… kisi ke sath washroom mein phas gaya… hey Ram! Hey Ram bhagwan!”

(I’m doomed… stuck in a washroom with someone… Oh Lord! Oh God, help me!)

Vatsal rolled his eyes and said,
“Muh band kar aur knock kar… koi toh bahar se jayega… open ho jayega door.”

(Shut up and knock… someone outside will come… the door will open.)

Arnav stood up and began banging on the door with all his strength. After a while, he got tired, so Vatsal took over and started banging the door instead.

Meanwhile, Kriti and Anushka were walking down the same corridor when they heard the noise.

Kriti walked closer to the door,
“I think koi lock hai… humne help kar deni chahiye.”

(I think someone is locked inside… we should help.)

Anushka nodded her head in agreement.

Kriti started unlocking the door from outside.

Inside, Arnav heard the sound of the lock turning. His face lit up with joy, and he quickly tried to move toward the door—where Vatsal was already standing.

But suddenly, Arnav’s foot slipped. He lost his balance and grabbed onto Vatsal for support. They both stumbled and ended up pressed against the wall.

In the chaos, Arnav’s lips accidentally brushed against Vatsal’s cheek.

And just at that very moment…

The door swung open.