“Good deed, good deed,” Adhvik said, still smirking. “Lekin tu bas help karne gaya tha ya number bhi liya?”

["But did you just go there to help, or did you get her number too?"]

“chii chup baith,” Vatsal said, irritated. “Mai kya tum logo ko road side romeo dikhta hu kya?” Vatsal huffed and took the Ball.

["Ew, shut up," "Do I look like some roadside Romeo to you guys?"]

Adhvik opened his mouth to tease again, but his words died halfway. His gaze had suddenly locked on someone across the lane.

For a second, he blinked—once, twice—thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him again. But no. She was really there.

Manya. Standing beside Anushka.

Adhvik’s breath hitched, a whisper escaping under his breath, almost involuntary—
“Lag gaye tere…”

["You’re done for…"]

Vatsal, who was holding the ball between three fingers, froze mid-action. His brows knitted when he noticed Adhvik staring off into the distance, expression caught somewhere between shock and disbelief. Slowly, Vatsal turned his head in the same direction.

And there she was.

Manya stood with her arms crossed, her eyes sharp and hard to read. Beside her, Anushka stayed quiet, but her silence felt heavy. The anger in her eyes was clear—Vatsal could see it even from a distance.

The ball slipped from his hand and hit the ground with a loud thud. Vatsal’s heartbeat quickened—not because of the game, but because he feared losing Anushka’s trust again.

“Aur karlo social service… gaya main toh,” he muttered under his breath.
[“Go on, keep doing social service… I’m done for.”]

Just then, Palak walked into the bowling area, holding the cards and the change in her hand. Busy putting the money into her purse, she didn’t notice anyone at first.

“Main le aayi cards apne. Abhi inka last round hai, uske baad apni turn hai,” she said casually, glancing toward the girls.

[“I’ve brought my cards. This is their last round, after that it’s my turn.”]

She noticed her friends staring at– the boys and followed their gaze, only to find Pranjal. The moment their eyes met, Pranjal quickly looked away, and so did she.

Her face warmed, but before she could think about it, her attention was drawn to Vatsal standing frozen, his face pale as if he’d seen a ghost, while Adhvik struggled to hold back his laughter.

Manya bent down, pulled off the socks she was wearing, and threw one straight at Vatsal. Then the other followed, but Vatsal quickly dodged it.

“Manyaaa! Kya kar rahi hai ye? Apne bhai ke saath koi aisa karta hai?” Vatsal shouted, huffing and almost on the verge of crying.

[“Manya! What are you doing? Who does this with their own brother?”]

But Manya, already furious, snapped back, “Bhai toh sirf naam ke ho! Kya fayda hai tumhe saare fictional men ke baare mein batane ka jab tumne har jagah muh marana hi hai toh?”

[“You’re only a brother by name! What’s the point of telling you about all the fictional men if you’re just going to go blab everywhere?”]

Still annoyed, she marched back to Anushka and put a hand on her shoulder. “You deserve better,” she said firmly.

Anushka gave her the most annoyed ‘Are you serious?’ look before replying, “Main washroom use karke aati hoon. Tum log wait karna tab tak.” With that, she turned and walked off towards the washroom.

[“I’ll just use the washroom and come. You guys wait till then.”]

Noticing Anushka leaving, Vatsal quickly jumped over the nearest fence that separated the bowling area. Without a second thought, he rushed after her.

“Anu!! Suno toh!” he called out, almost running while she walked ahead, not stopping for even a second.

[ “Anu!! Just listen!” ]

“Anu! Listen!” he called again, almost running
Right before she entered the washroom, Vatsal rushed in front of her, blocking the way.

“Vatsal, move. Get out of my way,” Anushka said, her tone full of irritation.

“Nahi! I swear I wasn’t flirting!” Vatsal spoke in one breath. “You all just think wrong. I was only trying to help! That girl could have hurt her hand badly, but in the end I’m the one who looks guilty.”

[ "No ! I swear I wasn't flirting!"]

Anushka stood there, arms crossed, her face showing nothing.

“Sachi! I don’t even remember her name… she said it herself… Priya—” Vatsal continued, only to realize his mistake.

[ “Honestly! I don’t even remember her name.”]

Anushka raised her brows and repeated sharply,
“Haan! PRIYA!”

[ Yes ! PRIYA ! ]

Vatsal gave her puppy eyes. “Voh—” he started, but stopped as Anushka’s eyes shifted.

[ Well—” ]

Priya and her friend were walking towards them, laughing. The moment Priya noticed Vatsal, she started coming closer.
Before Vatsal could say a word, Anushka grabbed his hand, pulled him inside the washroom with her, and quickly locked the door behind them.

Vatsal, a little taken aback, couldn’t help but smirk.

“Aaye haaye,” he teased softly, admiring her cute face. For the first time, he was happy to see her walls come down, even if just a little.
[ “Oh my…”]

“Kya hai?” she asked, her voice sharp but soft, like she was tired of pretending.

[ “What is it?”]

“Pyaar,” he said simply
[ LOVE ]

That one word—so familiar, so heavy—echoed between them.

She scoffed, looking at him. “Kya nayi baat hai? Sabse hi hota hai…”

[ “What’s new about that? It happens with everyone…”]

“Sirf tumse hai,” he whispered, stepping closer.
[ “It’s only with you.” ]

His gaze met hers, unwavering. And that’s when he saw it—oceans in her eyes. Not calm seas, but tides rising, crashing within her. Emotions brimming, threatening to spill, yet she kept turning her face away, blinking too often, trying too hard to hide.
But he had seen it. All of it.

And maybe this time, he wouldn’t let her walk away.

“Miss Topper? Mermaid… you’re crying?” Vatsal’s voice broke in shock.

The sight pierced him like a needle through his veins. She was crying—and because of him. For the first time, he didn’t know what to do.

But then she spoke, her voice trembling,
“I’m… sorry. I overreacted—I…”

“Sorry?” Vatsal thought, stunned. Why is she saying sorry to me… when I’m the one who has hurt her?

Her hiccups broke his heart. Without thinking, he held her face gently.

“I’m stupid,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“I’ve misunderstood you so many times… I’ve talked rudely, yet you never said anything back. I don’t know… maybe it’s because of what I always heard about you from the other girls in class. But then… at the St. Mary’s fest, when you became my partner… I was so annoyed. I thought you were just that laundiyabaaz type guy I hate. But from being dance partners till now… the time I’ve spent with you—I’ve realised I was wrong. I misunderstood you, so many times. You’re not what the world sees. Jo log tumhare close hain, they’re blessed.” she paused, her tears spilling, “…it turned out to be the most memorable performance of my life. I hate to admit it, but it was.”

[ “I thought you were just that flirty type of guy I can’t stand. But from being dance partners till now… in the time I’ve spent with you, I’ve realised I was wrong. I misunderstood you so many times. You’re not the person the world thinks you are. The people who are close to you… they’re truly blessed.” ]

Her words poured out faster now, the walls breaking.

“There were times I saw lipstick marks on your shirt and I hated it. The girls cheering for you, you flirting with them… and Ria—you and her…” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t even know why it bothered me. But it did. Seeing you with Ria at the house party… it hurt me.”
Vatsal blinked, caught off guard.

“House party? Ria?” he asked softly, confused.

“You think you’re smart?” she asked with a hollow laugh, “You’re the most dumb person I’ve ever met! You help everyone, trust anyone!”

And then the truth came crashing down.
“Ria,” she said, voice breaking again. “She came to your room. She saw everything you’d done—for me. And she destroyed it. Planned it all.”

“I saw it, I saw you on top of her. And I... I now know it wasn't what it looked like. But it hurt.” Her voice was barely a whisper now, her body trembling.

“Tum jaante ho, prem kya hota hai?” She looked into his eyes—vulnerable, open, bare.

[ “Do you know what love is?” ]

“Prem matlab hota hai samarpan, tyag, aur dhairya… Na koi shart, na koi seema. Bas ek bhawana jo aatma se judi hoti hai.”

[ “Love means devotion, sacrifice, and patience… No conditions, no limits. Just a feeling that’s connected to the soul.” ]

Her voice softened, but it held the weight of something sacred
.
“Jaise Parvati ne barson taap kiya tha… bina kisi gile-shikwe ke… sirf prem ke liye. Shiv ke liye.” She looked away for a moment, eyes filling again.

[ “Like Parvati, who endured years of penance… without a single complaint… only for love. For Shiva.”]

Vatsal didn’t speak—his throat had closed up, watching her fall apart in front of him.
“Jab prem sachcha hota hai… toh woh pooja ban jaata hai. Jaise Parvati ke liye ban gaya tha. Shiv ne kabhi mooh nahi kiya… par jab prem sachcha tha…” She paused, her voice trembling.

[ “When love is true… it turns into worship. Just like it did for Parvati. Shiva never spoke a word to her… but when the love was true…” ]

“...toh saara brahmand jhuk gaya tha uss prem ke aage.” She inhaled sharply, barely holding herself togetheentirer.

[ “…then the  universe bowed before that love.” ]

“Sachcha prem kabhi adhikaar nahi maangta… bass saath nibhane ki taqat deta hai.” She looked up at him—no more tears, just truth.

[ “True love never asks for possession… it only gives the strength to stay together.” ]

“Anu..” Vatsal whispered as he couldn't believe she expressed her feelings and was too afraid if it was his dream.

“Tum mujhe kabhi chaiye nahi the… in fact, the concept of finding love mujhe hamesha ek delusion lagta tha. But the way you’ve put in effort for me, the way you’ve stayed… after hearing so much in return, after facing the worst side of me, you never gave up on me. And that—” “—that’s something I don’t want to lose

[ “I never needed you… in fact, the very idea of finding love always felt like a delusion to me.” ]

“I’ve fallen for you… and no matter how much I tried to deny it, I can’t anymore. I don’t want to overthink, I don’t want to run away from what I feel. I just want us to try, at least once—so that years from now, we don’t look back with regret, wondering what could have been. I don't even deserve y—”

Her voice broke, the words trembling out of her. Tears slipped freely down her cheeks, tracing hot paths to her jaw, while her nose and cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. She tried to wipe them away quickly, embarrassed, but they only kept flowing.

Vatsal stood frozen. His chest constricted painfully as he watched her unravel. He had seen her angry, sharp, sarcastic, untouchable, even cutely annoyed… but never like this. Never so breakable, so raw.

He stepped forward, voice steady yet heavy with emotion. “Anger might be your habit, love… but leaving me? That isn’t you. Come back.”

He opened his arms, a silent plea, his gaze locked on her trembling form. And when she finally gave in, he caught her, holding her close as her sobs shook against him.

“Don’t you ever think you don’t deserve me,”
he murmured into her hair, his embrace firm, grounding. “You deserve every bit of me—and even if you don’t… then I’ll spend my life being the man who deserves you.”

After a long, silent embrace, Anushka’s sobs slowly quieted. Her breathing steadied against his chest, though her lashes were still wet. That’s when she realized her tears had stained his crisp white T-shirt. A small frown tugged at her lips as she tried to pull away, whispering, “I’m ruining your shirt…”

But Vatsal didn’t loosen his hold. He pressed her closer for just another heartbeat, as though that moment of comfort was the only thing holding him together too.

When he finally let her go, she tilted her head up. Their eyes locked—hers red and swollen, his dark and unreadable. They just… looked. A whole minute passed in silence, heavy and unspoken, until Vatsal broke it with a quiet question, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it.

“You saw Ria and me… why didn’t you confront me?”

Anushka’s lips parted, her instinctive answer spilling out. “Because it’s your life and—”

Before she could finish, his palm gently covered her mouth, stopping the words. His eyes didn’t waver as he leaned closer.

“Don’t,” he murmured firmly, removing his hand. “Don’t ever say that again. Only you have that right. Only you get to question me, Anu. Because only you…” His gaze dropped briefly to their joined hands before rising back to hers. “…only you have that authority over me.”

And then, in a gesture so soft it unraveled her completely, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it.
Just then a loud bang bang bang echoed at the washroom door.

Adhvik stood outside, banging both the men’s and ladies’ washroom doors.

“Tum dono washroom bana rahe ho kya itna time laga ke? Game khatam ho jayega, chalo jaldi!”

[ “What are you two doing, building a washroom in there? You’re taking so long! The game will be over, come on hurry up!” ]

Anushka and Vatsal froze, their hands still locked. Realisation hit like a truck. They were in the ladies’ washroom together.
Almost instantly, they pulled their hands away.

“Ab kya karenge?” Anushka whispered, her heartbeat shooting up in panic.

[ “What do we do now?” ]

“Haan aa raha hoon!” Vatsal yelled back, voice coming from the wrong side.
[ “Yeah, I’m coming!”]

Adhvik’s brows furrowed. “Yeh awaaz…ladies washroom se aa rahi thi na?” He thought he had misheard, but just then the knob of the men’s washroom turned and a random guy stepped out.

[ “This sound… it was coming from the ladies’ washroom, right?”]

“Kya hua?” the guy asked, clearly annoyed by the knocking.
[ “What happened?”]

“N-nahi, sorry, mujhe laga koi aur hai,” Adhvik stammered quickly, giving him an apologetic smile. The guy muttered something under his breath and walked away.

[ “N-no, sorry, I thought it was someone else.”]

Adhvik’s eyes shot back at the ladies’ washroom door. “O beti ki… Vatsal, tu ladies washroom mein hai??” he hissed, trying not to say it too loud.

[ “Vatsal, are you in the ladies’ washroom??” ]

“Haan, bhaar nikalne mein help karwa de. Bas dekh lena koi idhar toh nahi hai,” Vatsal whispered urgently from inside.

[“Yeah, just help me get this out. Just make sure no one’s around.”]

Adhvik almost choked on his own laughter. “Tu pagal ho gaya hai kya? Gender change kar liya? Anushka bhaav nahi de rahi toh seedha ladki ban gaya?” he whispered back, biting his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

[ “Have you gone crazy? Changed your gender or what? Just because Anushka isn’t giving you attention, you straight up became a girl?” ]

“Bakwas band kar, jitna bola hai utna kar,” Vatsal snapped, glancing at Anushka, who stood stiff and pale with tension.

[ “Stop talking nonsense, just do what I told you.”]

Adhvik sighed dramatically, still grinning.

“Theek hai, chal nikal. Koi nahi hai.” His eyes scanned the corridor like a guard.

[ “Alright, come out. No one’s here.”]

Vatsal leaned closer to Anushka and whispered, “Tum baad mein nikalna. Main pehle isse leke jaata hu bowling area tak.”

[ “You come out later. I’ll first take this to the bowling area.”]

He cracked the door open cautiously, pulling Anushka behind it to hide, then slipped out in one swift motion, shutting it quickly behind him.

Just as Vatsal stepped out, Adhvik was waiting, scanning around. He huffed dramatically.
“Kya aadmi hai bae tu,” he said, struggling to hold his laughter. “Ladies washroom me kya kar raha tha?”

[ “What a guy you are, bro,” he said, struggling to hold back his laughter. “What were you doing in the ladies’ washroom?” ]

“Arre, galti se… call pe baat karte-karte chala gaya,” Vatsal tried covering up.

[ “Arre, by mistake… I walked in while talking on the phone.”]

Adhvik raised a brow. “Call pe? Tu toh Anushka ke peeche gaya tha. Aur vo kahan hai?”

[ “On a call? You went after Anushka. And where is she?”]

“V-voh… pata nahi,” Vatsal stammered. “Main uske peeche hi tha, par mili nahi. Fir Kriti ka call aa gaya… dhyaan nahi diya kab andar ghuss gaya.”

[ “W-well… I don’t know,” Vatsal stammered. “I was right behind her, but then I lost her. Then Kriti called… I wasn’t paying attention and somehow walked in.”]

Adhvik gave an understanding nod and pulled out his phone. “Anushka ko call lagata hu—”

[ “I’ll call Anushka—”]

Before he could dial, Vatsal quickly snatched the phone. “Tu rehne de, main hi dhundh ke aata hu.”

[ “You leave it, I’ll go find her myself.”]

Adhvik narrowed his eyes, finding Vatsal’s behaviour odd, but didn’t comment. “Theek hai. Jaldi aana, Pisachini, Pranjal baby aur Mayadaari khel rahe hain,” he said, heading back with a smirk.

[“Alright. Come quickly, Pisachini, Pranjal baby, and Mayadaari are playing.”]

Seeing Adhvik’s figure disappear. Vatsal exhaled a sigh of relief and tiptoed back toward the door. He knocked twice, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching.

“Adhvik gaya… aa jao bahar,” he whispered urgently.

[ “Adhvik’s gone… come out now.”]

The door creaked open a second later, and Anushka slipped out, her face flushed and breath uneven as if she’d just escaped a crime scene. She closed the door quickly behind her.

“Koi aur aaye isse pehle chalte hai,” she muttered, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks burned crimson with embarrassment as she scolded herself under her breath. “What is wrong with me? Jealousy mein usse kheench ke washroom le aayi… kitna embarrassing!”

[ “Let’s go before someone else comes,
“Out of jealousy, I dragged him into the washroom… so embarrassing!” ]

Vatsal bit back his laughter, watching her turn redder by the second. She didn’t even wait for him to tease spinning on her heel, she started marching toward the bowling area. With a grin tugging at his lips, he hurried after her.

As they reached the bowling area, Palak, Manya, Adhvik, and Pranjal stood scanning the lanes. As usual, Manya and Adhvik had already started bickering.

“Agar tune strike kar diya na toh mai tujhe chamgaadar bolna band kar dungi,” Manya said, folding her arms, her eyes glinting with challenge. “Aur agar maine kar diya, toh jo jinn muscles ko tu stories pe flex karta hai… uska test hoga. Tu mujhe piggyback ride dega poore mall ke floor ka. Bol, manzoor hai?”

[ “If you manage to hit a strike, I’ll stop calling you a bat.”
“And if I manage to do it, then those muscles you keep flexing on your stories… they’ll be put to the test. You’ll have to give me a piggyback ride—across the entire mall floor. So, deal?”]

“Done,” Adhvik replied without hesitation, smirking as he deliberately flexed his biceps, making Pranjal shake his head in disbelief.

“Uff, attention seeker,” Manya muttered, rolling her eyes. Ignoring him, she strode towards the rack of balls. With a casual air, she slipped her fingers in and tested their weight, finally curling three fingers around the ball– Number 9.

Adhvik’s eyes flickered to her choice, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Number 9? Cute choice,” he said in an exaggeratedly sweet tone, tilting his head mockingly.

Then, puffing his chest a little too much, he walked over to the rack, made a show of scanning the options, and with a dramatic “hmm,” picked up the heaviest—Ball Number 12.

“Dekha? Real men, real weight,” he announced, smirking at her as if he had just declared victory.

Manya narrowed her eyes. “Bas ball utha liya toh champion ban gaya?” She adjusted her ponytail with a flick, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Strike lane pe hoga, dumbbell show karne se nahi.”

[ “A strike happens on the lane, not by showing off dumbbells.]

Palak along with Pranjal, just exchanged looks done with their fighting.

Anushka and Vatsal stood a little distant, unnoticed by their friends. Watching Manya and Adhvik’s never-ending quarrel, both of them shook their heads, laughter escaping.

“Bechaari Manya,” Anushka mocked softly, “humein cafe le jaane wali thi… aur yaha Adhvik ko jhel rahi hai.”

[ “Poor Manya,” Anushka mocked softly, “she was supposed to take us to the café… and here she is, stuck dealing with Adhvik.”]

“Cafe?” Vatsal asked, eyebrows raised.

“Haan,” Anushka groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Hum teeno ne ek reel dekhi thi cafe ki, so we planned to go there. Par waha pahunch ke ek khandar si building nikli—aur upar se phenyl ki smell!” She made a disgusted face at the memory.

[ “Yeah,” Anushka groaned, rolling her eyes. “The three of us had seen this café reel, so we planned to go there. But when we actually reached, it turned out to be some rundown building—on top of that, the whole place reeked of phenyl ]

Vatsal burst into laughter. “Reel dekh ke cafe? Idea kiska tha?” he asked between chuckles.

[ “Going to a café just because of a reel? Whose idea was that?”]

“Tumhari behen ka!” Anushka shot back, ANNOYED.

[ “Your sister’s!” ]

Vatsal laughed harder, glancing at Manya who was lining up her shot. “Yeh Manya bhi na! Tum log iski baate sunte hi kyu ho? Mujhe bhi din bhar 100 jagah ke reels bhejti hai.

[ “This Manya! Why do you even listen to her? She sends me reels from a hundred places all day too.” ]

“Sunna padta hai,” Anushka said knowingly, tilting her head towards him. “Just like you… jaise tumhe bhi sunna padta hai.”

[ “You’ve got to listen,” Anushka said knowingly, tilting her head toward him. “Just like you… you have to listen to]

Vatsal folded his arms, leaning casually against the railing, his gaze steady on her. “Vaise accha hi hai. Meri behen ki wajah se aaj maine kisi ki tsunami jaisi jealousy dekh li.”

[ “Well, that’s actually good. Because of my sister, today I got to see someone’s jealousy like a tsunami.”]

Anushka, who was staring straight at their friends, felt her cheeks flame red. “Oh God… this man won’t let me forget this,” she muttered under her breath, gritting her teeth. “STOP looking at me.”

“How can I?” Vatsal smirked, his voice low but teasing. “When I’m looking at the prettiest woman… my woman.”

Anushka’s face burned hotter as she quickly turned away, trying to hide her smile. “Tumko bilkul sahi naam diya hai… Hippopotamus. Faale jaa rahe ho bas.”

[ “You’ve got the perfect name… Hippopotamus. Just flaring up like that.”]

Vatsal chuckled, amused at her attempt to mask her blush. “Seriously, Hippopotamus? Yeh tum mujhe bulaati kyu ho?” he asked, shaking his head. “Main mota dikhta hu tumko?” he added dramatically.

[ Seriously, Hippopotamus? Why do you call me that?” he asked, shaking his head. “Do I look fat to you?” ]

Anushka tilted her head, making a face at him. “Nahi matlab ho—” She broke into laughter, unable to stop herself as she looked at his messy hair falling over his forehead, his soft eyes fixed on her.
“Maine toh irritate hoke rakha tha tumse. Kyunki I thought tumpe hippo ki tarah bhar bhar ke ego hai… aur Hippos cute hote hain.” She finished with a teasing grin.

[ “No, I mean—”
“I was just teasing you on purpose. Because I thought you were full of ego, like a hippo… and hippos are actually cute.” ]

“Chalo, cute toh lagta hu,” Vatsal replied, smiling at her cuteness, his voice softer now.

[“Well, I am cute, after all.” ]

Anushka cleared her throat, trying to divert. “Chalo, ab baatein karte rahenge toh bowling kab karenge?”

[ “Come on, if we keep talking, when are we going to bowl?”]

“Mujhe nahi jana,” Vatsal muttered, his eyes still on her. “Mujhe kya milega jaake?” he added, smirking.

[ “I don’t want to go,” Vatsal muttered, his eyes still on her. “What will I even get by going?”]

Anushka gave him an uninterested look. “Kya chaiye tumhe?”
[ “What do you want?”]

“Tum dogi?” he asked, leaning in just a little, his smirk widening.

[ “Will you give (it)?” ]

She made a weird face, half judging him, half amused. “Kya lene-dene ki baat ho rahi hai? Tum mat khelo, mujhe khelne do.” She turned, ready to leave for her turn when suddenly Vatsal caught her wrist gently.

["Is this about giving and taking? Don’t play, let me play."]

His grip wasn’t tight, but enough to stop her.

His voice dropped low, almost playful yet promising: “If you get a strike, I’ll let you have anything you want. But if you miss…” he paused, leaning closer, “you owe me one. And trust me, I’ll collect it.”

For a moment, all the background noise of pins crashing and friends laughing blurred, and Anushka felt her heartbeat quicken. She yanked her wrist free, cheeks burning, and muttered, “Done dekhenge, mai nahi haarti.” But her lips curved, betraying the smile she tried to hide.

[ "We’ll see when it’s done, I don’t lose."]

They both headed back to their friends’ group.

Adhvik, who had lost the challenge, wore a sulky expression while Manya practically danced in victory, her grin wide.

The moment Manya spotted Vatsal and Anushka walking together, her eyes narrowed mischievously. “Aap ke darshan kaise ho gaye hume?” she said, voice dripping with mock drama as she looked straight at Anushka.

“Hum toh girl’s date pe aaye the na… aur tu hume ditch karke inke saath ghoom rahi hai!”

[ “How did we get the honor of seeing you?”
“We came here for a girls’ date… and you’re ditching us to hang out with them!” ]

She clutched her chest theatrically, as if betrayed.

Palak, catching on instantly, smirked at Anushka, who was still flushed from her “bet” moment with Vatsal. “Kyu basa-basaya ghar ujhaad rahi hai?” she teased mercilessly.

[ “Why are you wrecking the whole house?” ].

Anushka’s annoyed by all the teasing tried brushing off “Main iske saath nahi thi. Mujhe kaam tha… samjhi?” She snatched a ball from the rack in a desperate attempt to change the topic, avoiding all their stares.

[ “I wasn’t with him. I had work… got ]

Vatsal, hands in pockets, watched her struggle with a slow smirk, enjoying every second.

“Kaam tha?” he repeated casually, his voice loud enough for only their circle to hear.

“Haan… kaafi important kaam tha. Washroom jana!”

[ “Work?”
“Yeah… very important work. Going to the washroom!” ]

Anushka whipped her head around and glared at him, silently mouthing, Shut up.
As she threw the ball, it glided straight down the lane—

Strike.

The pins scattered in every direction, leaving the lane clean.

Her friends hooted and cheered loudly, clapping for her strike.

Vatsal stood there, surprised. He hadn’t expected that from her.

With a small smile, he walked forward, picked up a ball, and got ready for his turn.
As Vatsal rolled the ball, it shot down the lane and hit perfectly—

Strike.

The crowd clapped again, and just like that, the game was tied.

Anushka picked up another ball, determined. She swung and let it roll… but this time, it slipped sideways, missing all the pins. Not even one fell.

She groaned under her breath, “Iss hippo ki hi nazar lag gayi hogi.”

[“This must’ve been jinxed by this hippo.”]

Vatsal, grinning ear to ear, picked up his ball next. With practiced ease, he rolled it down the lane—
Strike. Again.

Vatsal smirked silently, giving Anushka a look that clearly said, “Ready for the bet?”

Anushka, already irritated, rolled her eyes and ignored him.

A little distance away, Pranjal and Palak stood near each other, quietly exchanging glances. Neither of them spoke, but there was a storm rushing through their minds.

Palak’s heart felt heavy with regret. She wished she hadn’t confessed her feelings to him. She knew her love could never be returned, yet she had always cherished talking to him. Now she felt guilty, as if she had ruined everything.

Pranjal, meanwhile, kept silent. His face showed nothing, but his silence said more than words.

And watching them from the side, Adhvik had noticed it all—the way they avoided each other, the distance that hadn’t been there before.

Manya’s sharp eyes scanned the group, and she instantly noticed it—Palak and Pranjal.
They weren’t the same.

Not at all.

Usually, when everyone was together, it was chaos—jokes flying, silly fights, pulling each other’s legs, and laughing so loud that people around turned to stare.

Palak would always annoy Pranjal about the smallest things, and he would give it back twice as much. But now… they stood like two strangers caught in the same frame. Their smiles were missing. Their voices were gone. And worse, there was this strange silence between them that screamed louder than words.

Manya frowned. Something had happened. She didn’t know what exactly, but she knew one thing—this wasn’t normal.

When she looked across the lane, her eyes met Adhvik’s. For a second, neither of them spoke, but the message was clear. Both of them had noticed the same thing. Both of them knew they couldn’t just ignore it.

Adhvik gave her a small nod, like telling her silently, “Do something.”

Manya didn’t waste a second. She marched straight to where Pranjal was standing, looking unusually quiet. Without asking or explaining, she caught his arm.

“kuch baat karni hai,” she said firmly.

[ “I need to talk about something.”]

Pranjal blinked, confused. “Kya?”

[ What ]

“No questions,” Manya cut him off and began dragging him along.

And if that wasn’t enough, her eyes landed on Vatsal, who was busy with Anushka—grinning, smirking, throwing his usual lines to irritate her. He was so lost in that banter that he didn’t even see Manya coming until she grabbed his wrist too.

“kya hua tujhe?” Vatsal snapped, confused about what happened but he could see Manya angry.
[ “What’s wrong with you?”]

“2 min durr nahi rha jaa rha aapse mermaid se,” Manya shot back, pulling both boys with her.

[ “I can’t stay away from you for 2 minutes, mermaid.”]

“Aisa kuch nahi hai..” Vatsal started again, glancing back at Anushka, who with Adhvik and Palak headed out of the bowling area too.

[ “It’s nothing like that…”.]

Pranjal stayed quiet, letting Manya pull him along. His jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on the floor, but his silence was heavier than any words he could have spoken.

Manya sighed. “Boys! I swear, tum dono mere bhai ho?. Ek toh ye hamesha hero banta rehta hai,” she jerked her chin at Vatsal, “aur doosra…” her eyes flickered towards Pranjal, “…mute ho jaata hai exactly when he needs to speak.”

[ “Boys! I swear, you two are my brothers? One of you always plays the hero,” she jerked her chin at Vatsal, “and the other…” her eyes flickered towards Pranjal, “…goes mute exactly when he needs to speak.”]

Pranjal’s lips pressed together, but he didn’t argue.

“Dekho,” Manya stopped in her tracks suddenly, making both boys stumble a little.

She turned to face them, hands on her hips.

“Mujhe exact story nahi pata, but something is seriously off. And I’m not dumb—you can’t hide it from me.” she said looking at Pranjal

[ Look , “I don’t know the exact story, but something is seriously off. And I’m not dumb you can’t hide it from me.”]

Pranjal’s throat worked, but no words came out. He glanced once in the direction Palak had gone, and that was enough. Manya caught it instantly.

“Kuch bolna pasand karoge ya main tumhara dil khol kar padhu?” Manya asked annoyed.

[ “Would you like to say something, or should I just read your heart out?”]

“Kya bolu… jab kuch bolne ke liye hai hi nahi,” Pranjal finally spoke, his voice low but steady

[ “What can I say… when there’s nothing to say,”].

Manya and Vatsal both turned to him, surprised he had even opened his mouth.
“You all knew she… liked me,” he continued, forcing the words out. “And I never saw it. She confronted me… and I said no. Bas. What’s the big deal?”

He tried to sound casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just another small thing everyone was exaggerating. But his face gave him away.
Every word felt like a stone in his throat. Speaking them out loud hurt more than he had expected. His chest tightened as he forced himself to keep a straight face. Pretending not to care was easier than admitting how much it burned inside.

Because the truth was saying no to her hadn’t been simple. Not for him. And now, standing here, the silence after his words felt heavier than ever.

“Oh, oh wow,” Manya said dryly, staring at Pranjal in shock. He kept his eyes on the ground, refusing to look up.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” she went on, her voice sharper now. “But you know what? I really don’t want to say anything more. At least have the decency to talk to her. At least clear your boundaries. Stop being this person who’s too scared to say anything. You don’t even realize you’ve lost a gem. But fine, it’s your decision.” She shook her head, her tone softer but still disappointed. “At least talk, Pranjal. You’re acting weird.”

The silence that followed was heavy.
Vatsal, who had been standing quietly all this while, clenched his jaw. He understood what was happening between Pranjal and Palak. And he hated himself for not noticing it sooner.

He stayed quiet for a moment longer, then finally spoke, his voice calm but firm.
“Manya, let it be,” he said. “Usse samjha nahi sakta koi…”

[ “No one can make him  understand…”]

But in his heart, Vatsal made a note. He would talk to Pranjal later. Even if no one else could reach him, maybe he still could.

On the other side of the game zone, Adhvik walked quietly with Palak and Anushka. The three of them moved past the flashing arcade lights and the sound of coins clinking in machines.

Normally, this trio would have been laughing at someone, Palak teasing someone, Anushka rolling her eyes, and Adhvik throwing in his dry one-liners. But today, the silence between them was heavy.

Adhvik glanced at Palak. She hadn’t said a word in a long time, her face calm but her eyes distant, lost somewhere else entirely. Anushka was walking close beside her, as if she was ready to guard her from the world if needed.

Finally, Adhvik spoke, his tone steady.
“I know something is wrong between you and Pranjal.”

Before Palak could react, Anushka’s head snapped up. Her eyes narrowed as she cut him off sharply.

“Are you here to justify Pranjal?” she asked, her voice tight with annoyance.

Adhvik stopped walking and turned to look at her. His expression wasn’t defensive, just calm like someone who had already thought this through.

“I don’t know what he did,” he said slowly, choosing his words with care. “But I do know one thing Pranjal would never do something that would purposely hurt Palak.”

Palak’s steps faltered for a second. Her chest tightened at his words, but she kept her gaze low, her hands fiddling with the strap of her sling bag.

Anushka let out a sharp laugh, not amused. “You boys and your brotherhood. Always ready to defend each other.”

“It’s not about defending him,” Adhvik replied, his voice calm but firm. He turned to Palak this time, his eyes softer. “It’s about you both. I’m just saying… you should talk. Sort it out. Because at the end of the day, we’re all friends first. And seeing you two avoid each other like this it doesn’t feel right. It’s weird.”

Palak finally lifted her eyes, meeting his for a brief second before looking away again. Words rose in her throat but died just as quickly.

Anushka placed a hand on Palak’s shoulder, as if to shield her. “She doesn’t need to talk if she doesn’t want to. And he should’ve thought of that before hurting her. Friendship doesn’t give you a free pass to break someone’s heart, Adhvik.”

Adhvik sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t argue with Anushka’s anger was valid. But still, he couldn’t shake what he felt.

“Maybe he messed up. Maybe he doesn’t even realize how badly. But silence won’t fix it either. At least talk. At least end it properly. You both owe that much to the friendship you shared.”

Palak finally broke her silence. Her voice was calm, almost too calm, as if she had rehearsed it in her head a hundred times before saying it out loud.

“You’re right,” she said softly, looking at Adhvik first, then at Anushka. “I just… need some time. But you guys don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. And I have no problem with him.”

She forced a small smile, the kind that never reached her eyes.

Anushka frowned, clearly unconvinced. She knew Palak too well her smiles were usually loud, warm, the kind that lit up her whole face. But this one… this one looked like it was stitched together just to keep others from asking more questions.

Adhvik studied her for a moment, then sighed. He didn’t push further, but the heaviness in his eyes showed he didn’t believe her either. “If you say so,” he muttered.

Palak quickly nodded, eager to end the topic. “Yes. I’ll handle it. I’m really fine.”

But inside, she wasn’t fine. Not even close. Her chest ached with everything she wasn’t saying, and her throat tightened with all the words she had swallowed back. She wanted to scream that she wasn’t okay, that it hurt more than she could explain, that pretending was exhausting. But instead, she straightened her shoulders, plastered that practiced smile, and walked on.

Anushka slipped her arm through Palak’s, holding her close. She didn’t press for more. Sometimes, silence was the only comfort you could give.

And Adhvik, walking a step behind them, shook his head quietly.

Vatsal, Pranjal, and Manya soon joined them back. Manya clapped her hands once and tried to sound cheerful, though her eyes didn’t carry the usual sparkle.

“Chalo, time hai games ka. Points bhi bache hain—let’s finish them,” she said.

[“Come on, it’s time for games. Points are still left—let’s finish them,” ]

Adhvik noticed the dullness in her tone instantly. Without a word, he leaned over, snatched the game card from her hand, and darted off like a mischievous kid.

“Adhvik!” Manya shouted, half annoyed, half surprised. “Chamgadar ke bacche, abhi pareshan mat kar!” She took off after him, running through the arcade lanes as he laughed, holding the card high in the air to tease her.

[ “Bat’s kid, don’t irritate me right now!” ]

Vatsal chuckled at their antics, shaking his head. For a moment, the heaviness around them all lifted. Then, turning his gaze toward Anushka, he gave her a small nod and a mischievous little signal with his eyes let’s go.

Anushka frowned. “Kya?” she mouthed silently.

[“What?”]
Vatsal tilted his head ever so slightly toward Palak and Pranjal, who now stood awkwardly beside each other, the noise of the arcade buzzing around them but not touching them.
The hint was clear—leave them alone.

Anushka hesitated for a moment, chewing her lip. She didn’t want Palak to feel cornered, but… maybe this was what they needed. Finally, she sighed and gave in, following Vatsal as he casually walked off toward another section of the arcade, leaving Palak and Pranjal standing together.

The silence between the two grew louder the moment their friends drifted away.
Vatsal and Anushka wandered through the arcade until they stopped in front of the basketball machine. Bright lights blinked above it, the sound of bouncing balls filling the air.

Without wasting time, Vatsal slid the card into the slot. The machine beeped, the countdown began, and the baskets lit up.

“Ready, Miss topper?” Vatsal smirked, already grabbing a ball.

Anushka narrowed her eyes at him. “Always ready for everything .”

The buzzer went off, and both of them launched into the game with surprising energy. Balls flew from their hands, bouncing off rims, swishing clean through nets, or clattering against the glass sides. They were laughing, panting, elbowing each other just enough to distract, yet focused like true rivals.
With every shot that landed, the ticket counter kept clicking and spitting out strips of yellow paper that dangled to the floor.

“CHEATING MAT KARO VATSAL MISHRA!!!” Anushka complained when Vatsal nudged her shoulder mid-throw.

[“DON’T CHEAT, VATSAL MISHRA!!!”]

“Cheating? Maine kaha kuch kiya” he grinned, shooting another basket.

[“Cheating? When did I say I did anything?”]

The final buzzer rang. Both of them froze, out of breath, their cheeks flushed from laughing and competing. The machine whirred and pushed out a bunch of tickets that pooled at their feet.

“Not bad,” Vatsal said, picking them up and handling a few to her. “Topper games bhi khel leti hai.”

[“Not bad.” “Even the topper plays games.”]
Anushka rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Best in all for a reason.”

They both laughed, it was the simple joy of playing together.

Collecting the long strip of tickets, they walked together to the prize counter. Behind the glass, rows of gifts were displayed tiny keychains, shiny pens, cars, puzzles, and shelves stacked with soft toys of all shapes and colors.

The staff counted their tickets and gave them options. Vatsal immediately waved his hand toward Anushka.

“Tum chuno, Mermaid. Jo bhi tumhe pasand ho.”

[“You choose, Mermaid. Whatever you like.”]

Anushka’s eyes lit up as she scanned the shelves. For a moment she looked like a little kid lost in a candy store. Finally, her gaze stopped at a pastel blue hippo soft toy small, round, with button eyes that almost made it look like it was smiling. Right beside it was a plush mermaid, with shimmery scales and long yarn hair.

Without hesitation, she picked both. Turning to Vatsal, she held them out. “Ye tumhara, aur ye mera,” she said sweetly, clutching the hippo and pushing the mermaid toy toward him.

[“This is yours, and this is mine.”]

Vatsal blinked in surprise. “Mujhe?!” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Mujhe kuch nahi chahiye… tum isse bade wale soft toys le sakti ho, ya kuch aur useful cheez.”

[“Me?!” “I don’t want anything… you can take those bigger soft toys, or something else useful.”]

Anushka frowned and shook her head stubbornly. “Nahi. Game dono ne kheli thi, toh gifts bhi divide honge. Tum ye rakho.” She pushed the mermaid into his hands again, her expression leaving no room for argument.

[“No. Both of us played the game, so the gifts will be divided too. You keep this.”]

Vatsal stared at her for a second, and then a smile crept onto his lips. “Main iska kya karunga? Ghar le gaya toh maa alag sawaal puchegi… aur Adhvik-Pranjal toh mazze se mazaak banayenge.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were warm, curious to see how she would react.

[“What will I do with this? If I take it home, my mom will start asking all sorts of questions… and Adhvik and Pranjal will make fun of me for sure.”]

“Oh…” Anushka’s face fell a little, and she quickly pulled her hand back. “Koi nahi, tum Hot Wheels wali cars dekh lo. Tumhe wahi zyada suit karega.” She tried to hide her disappointment behind a casual tone, hugging the hippo closer to her chest.

[“Oh…” Anushka’s face fell a little, and she quickly pulled her hand back. “Koi nahi, tum Hot Wheels wali cars dekh lo. Tumhe wahi zyada suit karega.” ]

Vatsal chuckled, shaking his head. “Arre, mazaak kar raha tha main.” He gently took the mermaid toy from her and gave it a small twirl in his hand. “Maa kuch nahi bolegi… aur Adhvik-Pranjal kya hi bolenge jo unhone pehle nahi bola.”

[“Mom won’t say anything… and what could Adhvik and Pranjal even say that they haven’t already said before.”]

Anushka looked up at him, caught between relief and embarrassment. The tiniest smile tugged at her lips.

And that was the moment simple, ordinary, yet soft where the boy who rarely kept anything for himself was holding onto a silly little mermaid because she wanted him to.

On the other hand Manya finally caught Adhvik by the sleeve, tugging him back toward the arcade floor. He turned, smirking, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Haan haan… jaa na, teri jaisi chaar ko ek haath se utha lunga,” he bragged, flexing his arm dramatically as if showing off to a crowd.
[“Yeah, yeah… go on, I could lift four like you with one hand.”]

Manya’s laughter rang out sharp and mocking. “Bas yehi toh problem hai tumhari. Har jagah apna biceps dikhana hota hai. Dumb bell. Bewakoof ghanta.”

[“That’s exactly your problem. You just have to show off your biceps everywhere. Dumbbell. Total idiot.”]

Her words hit his ego right where it hurt, and the grin slipped from his face, replaced with narrowed eyes. “Oh, really?” he muttered, straightening up as if someone had just issued him a challenge.

“Yes, really.” She smirked, proud of herself.
Adhvik’s jaw ticked. His gaze swept the game zone until it landed on the huge red punching machine standing tall with its dangling bag.

The flashing digital numbers above it glowed like a dare. He pointed at it.

“Bas. Yehi time hai tujhe dikhane ka ki main sirf Instagram ka hero nahi hoon,” he declared.

[“Enough. This is the time to show you that I’m not just some Instagram hero.”]

Manya tilted her head, following his finger to the machine. Slowly, her smirk widened into a grin.

She folded her arms across her chest, leaning back on one foot with mock curiosity.
“Aww,” she cooed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Show me those biceps actually work outside of Instagram selfies.”

Adhvik’s lips twitched into a cocky half-smile. He stepped closer to the machine, the crowd of arcade noises buzzing around them. “So now my strength is on trial?” he asked, lowering his voice just enough to sound teasing.

“Of course.” Her eyes sparkled as she leaned in, every word sharp like a jab. “If you don’t hit at least seven hundred, then you’re just a dumb bell. Bewakoof ghanta. Gym selfie model with zero results.”

Her tone was merciless, but her laughter carried a strange warmth, the kind that made his irritation flare and his determination double at the same time.

He straightened his back, rolling his shoulders, eyes never leaving hers. “Seven hundred, huh?” he muttered, stepping into position before the punching bag.

His knuckles brushed together as if preparing for a real fight.

Manya stood just beside him, her chin lifted in challenge, eyes sparkling with the kind of thrill she got only from annoying him. She didn’t care about the machine, not really. She just wanted to see him lose, to watch his proud smirk falter.

But Adhvik was already imagining the bag exploding under his fist, and the numbers climbing higher than she ever expected.

And somewhere, in the middle of all this noise and laughter, neither of them realized how much the crowd around them had started watching, waiting for the punch, waiting for the score.

Adhvik steadied himself, inhaled deeply, and with one swift motion, he swung his fist into the dangling punching bag. The machine shook with the impact, the bag ricocheting back with a dull thud.

For a heartbeat, there was silence as everyone’s eyes darted up to the flashing red numbers.

735.

The digits blinked, bright and bold.

“Woooohhh!!” the nearby kids and teens erupted into cheers, clapping, hooting, some even whistling.

It was as if Adhvik had just won a gold medal at the arcade Olympics. A huge grin broke across his face, and he threw his arms up in victory, hopping once like an excited kid.

“YESSS! Did you see that?!” he shouted, pointing at the screen as if the machine itself was giving him respect.

The adrenaline made him forget everything well, almost. His knuckles throbbed faintly, a dull ache spreading up his wrist, but he quickly shook it off, hiding it behind the wide grin. No way he was letting Manya see weakness right now.

He turned toward her, expecting another sarcastic jab. But what he saw nearly made him laugh harder.

Manya stood there, arms still folded, her mouth slightly parted in disbelief, her brows furrowed. The sparkle in her eyes was gone, replaced by an annoyed glare that screamed how dare you actually win this one?

For once—for once—she was speechless.

Manya blinked, her lips pressing together as if to stop herself from reacting, but the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. She hated losing—especially to him.

“Badi khushi mil rahi hai tujhe na?” she finally muttered, voice dry, rolling her eyes.

“Bas ek machine pe maar liya aur ab Olympic champion ban raha hai.”

[“You’re feeling really proud of yourself, huh?” “Just because you used one machine, now you think you’re an Olympic champion.”]

Adhvik laughed, dramatically flexing his arm again despite the dull pain in his knuckles. “Champion toh hoon hi main. Aur ab sabko pata chal gaya. Tell me something I don't know.”

[“I’m already a champion. And now everyone knows it. Tell me something I don’t know.”]

The crowd slowly dispersed, but a few kids still eyed him with admiration, one even whispering, “Bhaiya ne toh mast maara!”

[“Bro played really well!”]

Adhvik soaked in the glory for a second longer before turning back to Manya, whose glare hadn’t softened one bit.

“Tu annoy kyu ho rahi hai?” he teased, lowering his voice. “Jeet toh main gaya. Aur tumhari dumb bell wali theory ab fail ho gayi.” Adhvik said still basking in his little moment of glory, replaying the cheers in his head, when suddenly—

THUD!

[“Why are you getting annoyed?”
“And now your dumbbell theory has failed.”]

“Aaaah!” he yelped, jerking his leg back.
Manya had stomped her sneaker right down on his shoe, not too hard to break a toe but definitely enough to make him wince.
She didn’t even look back, just tossed her hair over her shoulder and said in the most casual voice, “Mujhe bhook lag rahi hai.”

[“I’m feeling hungry.”]

With that, she spun around and began marching towards the café area, arms swinging like she was on some mission.
Adhvik bent slightly, rubbing his foot with a dramatic pout. “Yeh kya tha, yaar? Duniya mere liye taaliyan baja rahi thi, aur madam mujhe torture kar rahi hain!”

[“What was that, man? The whole world was clapping for me, and madam here was busy torturing me!”]

But when he saw her already walking away, his grin returned. He jogged forward, quickly catching up.

“Arre rukko toh pisachini!” he called, weaving through the arcade crowd behind her. “Tum aise chhodke kaise jaa sakti hai mujhe? Bhook srif tumhe thodi lagi hai, mujhe bhi lag rahi hai, par treat toh tujhe dena padega.”

[“Hey wait, you witch!” “How can you just leave me like that? You’re not the only one who’s hungry, I’m hungry too, but you’re the one who has to give the treat.”]

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, pretending not to care, but the smirk she tried to hide gave her away. “Treat main kyu dungi? Machine pe maar tune liya, sab taaliyan tere liye bajayi gayi. Toh ab kharcha bhi tu hi karega.”

[“Why should I give the treat? You’re the one who worked out on the machine, all the applause was for you. So now you’ll be the one to spend as well.”]

Adhvik widened his eyes, clutching his chest as if stabbed. “Wah! Matlab insult bhi mera, pain bhi mera, aur ab bill bhi mera? Kya zulm hai yeh, Bhagwan!”

[“Wow! So the insult is mine, the pain is mine, and now the bill is mine too? What kind of cruelty is this, God!”]

Manya laughed under her breath but kept walking, purposely ignoring his theatrics.
By the time they reached the café section, the smell of fries, burgers, and sizzling pizzas filled the air. She immediately scanned the menu board with narrowed, hungry eyes.
On the other side, Palak and Pranjal walked slowly through the game zone, the noise of laughter, bells, and machine sounds surrounding them but never really reaching them.

Between the two, silence hung heavier than the neon lights above. Both wanted to speak, both wanted to ask, to explain, but words felt like stones stuck in their throats.
Finally, Pranjal cleared his throat, his voice low, unsure.

“Ahm… points kaafi bache hain. Tumhe kuch khelna hai? Mere mann nahi hai.”

[“Uhm… there are quite a lot of points left. Do you want to play something? I don’t feel like it.”]

He extended the game card towards her without meeting her eyes. Palak glanced at the glowing strip in his hand and then back at him, her expression unreadable.

“Mujhe bhi nahi khelna,” she said flatly.
[“I don’t feel like playing either.”]

“Kyu? Points waste ho jayenge…” Pranjal replied quickly, though deep down he already knew her lack of interest wasn’t about the games it was about him. Still, he forced a smile, as if pretending things were normal would make them normal again.

[“Why? The points will go to waste…”]

Just ahead, a claw machine blinked with bright lights, stuffed toys and trinkets stacked inside.

Almost on impulse, he swiped the card and leaned closer to the joystick. “Chalo, ek try karte hain,” he muttered, trying to distract himself. His eyes scanned the pile of soft toys. “Kya chahiye isme se?” he asked, fingers already moving the claw to position.

[Come on, let’s give it a try,”
“Which one do you want from these?” ]

“Mujhe kuch nahi chahiye,” Palak said softly, her voice carrying no excitement.

[“I don’t want anything.”]

“Palak, ek batao,” he insisted, still staring at the machine.

[“Palak, tell me one.”]

The way he said her name made her heart stop for a second. After weeks of distance, silence, and awkward avoidance, hearing him speak her name it was like a spark in the dark. Something inside her softened immediately, the walls she had so carefully built around her heart began to tremble.

Her pulse quickened, butterflies taking over her stomach. She hated it that even now, even after everything, just the sound of her name in his voice could undo her so easily.

She bit her lip, looking away quickly, because if she looked at him too long, he would see it. He would see how much she still cared. She reminded herself: he would’ve said the same to anyone. She wasn’t special. She wasn’t the exception she once thought she was.

And yet… her heart betrayed her. For a fleeting second, she wanted to tell him exactly which soft toy she wanted.

She wanted to smile and stand closer, like before. But instead, she crossed her arms, holding back the storm of emotions, whispering, “Kuch nahi chahiye…”

[“I don’t want anything…”]

Pranjal’s fingers froze on the joystick for a moment, his jaw tightening as if holding back words he could never say. Then, with a sharp exhale, he guided the claw down.

The machine buzzed, the claw slipped past the larger toys, and just when it looked like another failed attempt, it caught onto the ear of a small Peppa Pig plush. With surprising ease, the claw lifted it, swayed, and dropped it perfectly into the chute.

Pranjal bent down and picked the toy up like it was nothing. No celebration, no smile just a quiet gesture, almost absentminded, as if winning had been effortless. But when he turned, his hand holding out the toy toward Palak, the casualness vanished.

“Yeh lo…” he said simply, his voice soft, testing, almost pleading though he tried to mask it.

[“Here, take this…”]

Palak stared at the toy, her lips parting for a second before she shook her head faintly.
“Tum jeete ho… tum rakho,” she murmured, refusing to meet his eyes.

[“You won… you keep it.”]

Her words were quiet but heavy. For a moment, Pranjal just stood there, hand outstretched, before he slowly lowered it. He didn’t press her, didn’t insist. Somewhere inside, he knew he had lost the right to. Forcing her would only push her further away.

He turned the toy in his hands, his thumb brushing over its stitched smile, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Winning the toy hadn’t mattered. Giving it to her that’s what he’d wanted. But now, with her rejection, the ache in his chest only deepened.

It was his fault. He had built this distance, and now he was trapped in it.

Maybe things could never be the same again.
He didn’t want her or maybe he wasn’t allowed to anymore. But it hurt, in ways he couldn’t explain, to see her guard up against him, to see the shine in her eyes dimmed because of him.

They walked on, side by side yet painfully apart, with only a small toy between them a reminder of what once was, and maybe what could never be again.

The noise of the arcade slowly gave way to the chatter and aroma of the food court. Brightly lit counters lined the space, the air thick with the smell of sizzling fries, hot chocolate waffles, and cheesy pizzas. The group made their way to an empty table near the corner, arms heavy with tokens, tickets, and a few little prizes.

Anushka and Vatsal joined a few minutes later, looking slightly flushed from all the games. In Vatsal’s hand was the folded strip of photo-booth pictures their grins and goofy expressions frozen on glossy paper.

Anushka laughed as she tried to snatch it back, but Vatsal tucked it safely into his pocket. “These are for memories,” he said with a teasing smile, earning a playful eye-roll from her.

The table was soon filled with trays—burgers, fries, sodas, plates of momos—and the tired group sank into their seats. Conversation sparked quickly.

Manya animatedly complained about Adhvik’s “fake flex” at the punching machine while Adhvik defended himself with exaggerated seriousness, making everyone laugh. Even Anushka joined in with little teases, while Vatsal quietly enjoyed watching the banter unfold.

But in the midst of the laughter, Palak and Pranjal sat quieter than usual. Palak picked at her fries absentmindedly, her eyes darting to her phone screen more often than the group.

Pranjal, on the other hand, busied himself with the soda cup, sipping slowly, his gaze occasionally flicking toward her but quickly shifting away whenever she looked up.

They weren’t arguing, but the silence between them felt louder than the laughter around the table. Everyone noticed, yet no one pushed maybe they knew some wounds needed their own time.

After the food was done, and the tiredness started creeping in, Manya clapped her hands dramatically.

“Bas bas, pait puja ho gyi abb mera favorite TRAMPOLINE!!” she announced.

The group reached the bright entrance where the trampoline park and mirror maze branched off. The trampoline zone boomed with loud music, kids bouncing like springs, while the mirror maze glowed in softer, shifting neon.

“Chalo, trampoline!” Manya squealed, already pulling Anushka by the arm. She rolled his eyes but followed, Vatsal laughed, and Adhvik slipped his hands in his pockets, trailing after them with an amused smirk.

But Palak stayed rooted to the spot. She glanced once toward the trampoline park, where her friends were already bouncing in excitement, then turned away. “Uh... Main mirror maze dekh ke aati hoon. Waise bhi, I’m not in the mood to jump around.” She informed, Anushka and Manya offered to come with her but she told them she can do it alone.

At the table earlier, Pranjal had stayed quiet, letting her decision pass. He hadn’t wanted to draw attention. But when he saw her slip inside the maze alone, something tightened in his chest. For a moment, he stood with the others, pretending to watch Manya try a flip on the trampoline and fail miserably. He even forced a chuckle at Adhvik’s over-the-top commentary.

But his eyes kept drifting back toward the glowing entrance of the mirror maze.
Finally, without saying a word, he slipped away. His friends didn’t notice Manya was too busy trying to prove she could jump higher than Adhvik, and Anushka and Vatsal were caught up laughing at them.

Pranjal walked quickly, his footsteps soft against the arcade floor. As he reached the entrance, the neon lights reflected across his face in fractured colors. Inside, the maze stretched out panels of glass, mirrors reflecting endless copies of yourself, shadows and lights weaving illusions that made you question what was real.

Palak had already disappeared somewhere inside.

Pranjal hesitated just a second, then stepped in after her.

The trampoline park was like a storm of energy. Manya was the loudest of them all, shrieking every time she bounced, her hair flying in all directions.

“Dekh chamgadar aaj tu udd bhi sakta hai” she yelled, bouncing and enjoying.

[“Look, bat, today even you can fly.”]

Adhvik doubled over laughing. “Aur tere Baal bhi pisachini jaise udd rhe hai!” he teased.

[“And your hair is flying around like a witch’s too!”]

“Shut up, dumbbell!” she snapped, and just then a ball was thrown by a kid and the ball came in between her feet and trampoline surface making her lose her balance and she fell forward on Adhvik and Adhvik shouted at the top of his voice “ahhhh!!!”

Anushka, laughed seeing the scene and Vatsal being protective, ran to Manya to check if she's fine “Tujhe choot lagi?” Vatsal asked.

[“Did you get hurt?”]

“Choot usse kyu lagegi, mujse puch giri toh vo mere upar haddi todh dii,” Adhvik shot back, earning another glare from Manya .

[“Why would she get hurt? If you ask me, she broke a bone on me.”]

“Overacting ki dukaan” she muttered before she went bouncing again.

[“A shop full of overacting.”]

Their laughter filled the place—loud, carefree, childish in the best way possible.

But in the mirror maze, it was different.
Palak walked deeper into the maze, her reflection breaking into a hundred fragments all around her. Every time she caught sight of herself, it felt like a cruel reminder the girl in the mirror looked fine, but inside she was tired of pretending.

Then she saw him. Not once, but in ten reflections around her. Pranjal  standing still, scanning for her. For a heartbeat, she didn’t even know which one was real. That’s what we’ve become, she thought bitterly. So many versions of us, but I don’t know which one is true anymore.

Her chest tightened. Maybe he never saw me the way I once saw him. Maybe it was just a silly crush. But even if not that way, I still… I still want him in my life. I can’t lose him, no matter what.

Finally, the real him emerged, a few steps away. Their eyes met  hesitant, unreadable. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words locked in her throat. The silence stretched.

She turned, pretending to look for the way out, when suddenly his hand brushed against hers. Not a grab, not a forceful pull. Just a light touch, as if testing if she’d pull away.

Palak froze. She glanced at him he wasn’t even looking at her, just walking beside her, calm, but his fingers lingered against hers deliberately.
Slowly, without even realising, her own hand curled, letting his slip into hers.

For a moment, the mirrors around them didn’t matter. The maze didn’t matter. The silence didn’t matter. In that unexpected touch, she felt something she thought was gone— hope.

Her heart whispered, Maybe… just maybe… we’re not completely lost.