AUTHOR'S POV

Their eyes met. Shanaya's eyes locked with his for a split second but he didn't even flinch. No reaction, no trace of remembrance. The incident from the washroom felt like a distant, dusty memory now. Faded and unbothered. She didn't even felt anything too.

Shanaya and Dishita signed the event papers quietly, then stepped aside together, mingling with the excited crowd. A few moments later, Anusri and Anushmita started dividing everyone into groups. The theme this time was classical elegant, timeless, and richly Indian.

Shanaya, Dishita, Anurika, and Anushmita ended up in the same group, along with eleven or twelve more girls. Their performance was set to the classical and soulful song "Jago Mohan Pritam Jago." The air already felt infused with the scent of incense and the anticipation of classical rhythms.

SHANAYA'S POV

After explaining the routine to us, Anurika di and Anushmita di moved over to the boys' side of the hall. Near our group, two more dance-drama groups had been formed. One of them was doing a Ramayan themed performance. The other was a boy group doing a dramatic reenactment from the iconic Bengali film "Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne." The vibe was a beautiful blend of mythology and culture.

Suddenly.

"Guys, there's a bit of a problem," Anusri di rushed up the stage, her heels clicking sharply, her face tense as she grabbed the mic.

"Listen everyone, our Ram, the boy selected to play the role, has some personal reasons, so he won't be able to perform. So we need someone else to take the role."

The entire auditorium went silent. Like pin-drop silent. Everyone was focused on her words, hanging onto the suspense.

"And we need a guy who's at least six feet tall to play Ram," Anushmita di added firmly, her voice echoing off the walls.

"Then just pick someone from the boys who didn't get selected during the auditions," one of the girls suggested from the crowd.

"If they were good enough during auditions, they would've been selected. Not one of them fit the role of Ram," Anushmita di replied coldly, not mincing her words.

That guy, the same one from the washroom and another boy walked over to Anusri and Anushmita di. They seemed familiar with them, confidently giving a suggestion.

"Maybe you should put up another notice. Who knows, someone new might turn up who fits the role better."

"Hmm, fair enough,: Anushmita nodded. "That's probably our only option right now."

Then, as if flipping back into event mode, Anusri di called out again, handing a sheet to the guy beside the washroom boy.

"Okay, guys, now one by one, go sign under your group's name."

"Kunal, get everyone's signatures. And you, come with me," she said to the washroom boy.

"After signing, you can all head to your classes. Rehearsals start tomorrow," Anushmita di announced.

Ohh, so his name is Kunal.

But what about the washroom guy? Still no clue what his name is...

"Eh, kya hua? Kaha kho gayi hai?" Dishu whispered, snapping me back to reality.

"Nothing yaar, bas aise hi," I replied casually.

We walked over and signed under our group, then made our way to our class room.

As soon as we reached our classroom Prithvi saw us and said--

"So, hogaya khatam tum logo ka natak?" Prithvi smirked, looking up from his phone.

"What do you mean drama? Ye sab tu karta hai, tera kam hai ye sab karna, drama queen," Dishita shot back with her trademark sass, glaring playfully.

"HA HA HA. Funny." Prithvi rolled his eyes.

"Tere piche humesha aag lagi rehti hai kya jhagar neke liye?" Dishu said.

"Uff! Can you both stop already? Always fighting," Malvika sighed dramatically, placing her bag on the bench.

"Okay okay, listen," Deep interrupted, "Sir gave us a project in today's computer science class. We have to create a website."

"Yeah, and it needs to be done in a group of 6-7 people," added Rony and Satyam, almost in sync.

"Well that's perfect! We already have our gang here," Dishita grinned.

"So what should we make the website about?" Rony asked, thinking aloud.

"I think we should go for an e-commerce website," Malvika suggested confidently.

"I think we should create a counseling website," I chimed in.

"Nah, I don't think that's a good idea," Malvika instantly shot down. "How many people are actually depressed in India? Very few. So making a website for that has no value."

"But there are so many people who need help. People who don't have anyone to talk to, who don't get heard, where do they go?" I said softly, but firmly.

"Shanaya, just shut up," Malvika snapped. "That's a useless idea. E-commerce is better, more practical."

"But that's too common. I'm sure many other groups will go for that. The counseling website would be different. We can add a feature where users can share their issues anonymously without revealing their identity."

"I think Malvika's idea is better," Dishu supported me.

"Yeah, me too," Deep and Rony agreed.

"I think Shanaya's idea stands out. It's got meaning," said Satyam.

"I agree with Satyam, mujhe Shanaya ke idea achha laga thoda different hai" Deepanshu added.

All eyes now turned to the only one who hadn't spoken yet, Prithvi.

Even I looked up at him. Everyone waited.

Finally, he shrugged and said, "I guess Malvika's idea is better."

"Alright then, we'll go with Malvika's idea," I said quietly and calmly.

Dishita went and sat beside Malvika.

Satyam looked at me once, but didn't say anything. That silence it said enough.

Time passed. Classes ended.

We all packed up, ready to leave.

"Hey Sana," Deepanshu called out, "I've got some work near your place today, so I'll come with you guys."

"Umm.....Satyam, we both go the same way, right? Let's go together," Malvika said, trying to sound casual.

"Actually, I'm going with Shanaya. I go that way too," Satyam replied, not even looking at Malvika.

"Oh... okay," Malvika replied, her voice almost inaudible.

AURTHOR'S POV

Everyone began to go their separate ways.

Dishita had someplace else to be, so she had already left in a hurry. That left Shanaya, Satyam and Deepanshu standing at the bus stop together, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. After sometime Deepanshu's bus came so he boarded the bus and went away.

The city buzzed faintly around them buses rumbling in the distance, a child crying somewhere nearby, and the sound of someone selling roasted peanuts under a fading yellow umbrella. But in their little bubble, it was just quiet.

"So... how were your rehearsals today?" Satyam asked, his tone casual but curious.

Shanaya sighed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nothing really happened today. We're starting tomorrow. There are going to be two dance-dramas in the function. One of them is Ramayan. But, the guy who was supposed to play Ram backed out, due to some personal reasons."

She stopped mid-sentence.

And then slowly turned her head staring at Satyam.

A bit too intensely.

" And why are you looking at me like that?" Satyam asked, instantly suspicious. His eyes narrowed. "Wait. No. Nope. Don't even think about it. Mere bare mein sochna bhi maat"

He had already guessed exactly what she was about to say.

"But you're perfect for it! You are the perfect match," Shanaya exclaimed, her face lighting up like a Diwali sparkler.

"No. Absolutely not," Satyam shut her down before she could even finish her thought. " Bhakk, main ye sab chizen nahi karne wala, ye sab mere bas ki baat nahi ye sab dance drama wagera. Mere bare mein socho hi maat bhul jao"

"But Satya-----" she tried, eyes wide with hope.

"Nope. Final. Drop it." His voice had the firmness of a sealed envelope.

They kept talking and teasing each other a little more as the bus finally pulled up, screeching gently to a halt. They both climbed aboard, settling into that quiet rhythm of sitting side by side without much need for words. It was oddly comforting.

Moments later, Shanaya's stop arrived. She stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and waved at Satyam with a soft smile.

"Bye," she said.

"Yeah, see you," he replied.

As soon as Shanaya reached her house she shouted.

"Mummmmaaaa, I'm home!" she called out as she stepped into the house, kicking her shoes off.

She threw her bag down with a tired sigh but excitement danced in her voice.

"Mammaa, guess what! We've been given a website project at college and----"

She paused.

Her mom wasn't even looking at her.

She sat on the couch, completely engrossed in her phone. Eyes fixed, fingers scrolling like the world existed inside that little screen.

"Mum....you are not listening to me," Shanaya said softly, voice falling like a droplet.

"Bol na kya hai? Ek chiz bhi shantise dekhne nahi deti" her mother snapped, not even turning her head. "Har waqt bas Ma Ma Ma Ma chillati rehti hai, nahi sunna mujhe abhi."

Shanaya froze.

Something sank inside her. Not with drama. Not even with tears. Just quiet.

Without another word, she turned and walked to her room.

Inside her little sanctuary, she didn't cry.

She'd learned not to.

She just changed out of her college clothes, washed her face, and grabbed the one thing that always listened.

Her diary.

It was old. A bit worn at the edges. But to Shanaya, it was a sacred space, a private world where she could finally be heard. No one interrupted here. No one judged. No one ignored her words.

This diary wasn't just a notebook. It was her safe space.

Her emotional anchor.

Her silent friend.

She sat cross legged on her bed, uncapped her pen, and began writing everything that had happened that day from the Ramayan casting chaos to the website drama, to Satyam's reaction and her mother's words. Each sentence poured out of her like rainfall finally escaping heavy clouds.

And somehow, that made her feel lighter.

Once done, she placed her pen down gently. She picked up her course book and began to study for a while though her mind floated between web pages and mythological roles.

Time passed. She heard her mom call for dinner. Without any argument, she went downstairs, ate quietly, and came back up.

Later that night, she curled into her blanket. The day's weight still lingering faintly in her heart, but the softness of the bed, the presence of her diary on the nightstand, and the hush of the night gave her comfort.

And eventually she fell asleep.

SHANAYA'S POV

"Panchi banu, udti phirun, mast gagan mein...aaj main aazad hoon, duniya ke chaman mein..."

"Panchi banu, udti phirun, mast gagan mein....aaj main aazad hoon, duniya ke chaman mein..."

My alarm was playing its usual dramatic number with full volume.

"Oh my God, this alarm just does not let me sleep," I groaned, tossing around under my blanket. "I'm not going to college today. No way. I'm so sleepy I could pass out mid blink."

And then,

Reality punched me in the face.

"Crap! Rehearsals! Ajse rehearsals start hone wali hai" I sat up, clutching my blanket like it betrayed me. "Oh god whyyyyy."

Dragging myself like a zombie, I somehow made it to the washroom and finished my morning chores in slow motion.

I opened my cupboard and pulled out a sea-green t-shirt and my favorite grey jeans. I threw my hair up into a messy bun, not a cute Instagram messy bun, but the "I-have-3-seconds-or-I'm-gonna-be-late" kind. And then boom ready-ish.

Downstairs, I saw that Mamma had already made breakfast. The three of us Mamma, Baba, and I ate together at the table, quietly, Peacefully.

After that, I grabbed my bag, slipped on my sneakers, and headed out.

At college.

I walked straight into our scheduled classroom. Most of the class was already there.

Except for Deepanshu, obviously. That man is always fashionably late. He treats time like it's a suggestion, not a rule.

I went and sat beside Malvika and Dishita. Malvika is... cool. Honestly, I like her. We joke around a lot. Sure, she can be a bit rude sometimes, but dosti mein ye sab hota rehta hai, doston ke bich mein ye sab chalta hai, right? A little spice.

"Shanaya, let's go. It's time for rehearsals," Dishita said, nudging me.

"Haan chal, chalte hai."

We made our way toward the cultural hall. But then, my hand instinctively reached for my pocket.

My phone wasn't there. Uh-oh.

"Dishu! I left my phone in the classroom. You go ahead, I'll catch up."

As I turned around and rushed back,

BOOM!

I crashed straight into someone.

A very tall someone.

"Hey bhagwaan! Ye sab humesha mere sath hi kyun hota hai?" I mumbled, half to myself.

I looked up and met those eyes.

Those light brown eyes.

The same ones from that washroom moment. Still just as unreadable, like a closed novel written in some lost language.

"Maybe try watching where you're going?" he said sharply. "Humesha mere sath takrati ho, humesha nahi rahunga tumhare pas tumhe sambhal ne ke liye."

And just like that he walked away.

I stood there, cheeks burning like toast left too long in a toaster. Was I blushing? Ew. No. Shut up, Shanaya.

I hurried to the classroom, grabbed my phone, and practically jogged back to the cultural room.

"There you are! What took you so long?!" Dishita asked, crossing her arms.

"Woh----main---main kisi ke saath takra gayi thi" I said quickly, sliding beside her.

"Jago Mohan group, please come forward!" Anurika di called out.

"Alright guys, we'll form three lines," she announced.

Then she and Anushmita di explained the whole formation and choreography. Once we got the gist of the routine, we began rehearsing.

The room buzzed with energy. Ghungroos clinked. The music played softly on loop.

After a while, we all sat down on the floor to rest. The back of my neck was sticky with sweat, but I felt weirdly alive.

Across the hall, I noticed Kunal and Mr. Light Brown Eyes, they were teaching dance steps to the boys' group. Both of them looked calm, focused....like they belonged there.

Anurika di, Anushmita di, and three other senior didis joined us on the floor. They were all chatting casually, laughing softly. It felt....warm. Comfortable.

In our group, I made a new friend Saranya. She was also a first-year student, and honestly, she gave off major sunshine vibes. We talked for a bit, bonding over how our feet already hurt.

Later during practice, my eyes met his again Mr. Light Brown Eyes.

This time....I didn't flinch.

He didn't either.

But maybe... just maybe... it did affect me. Just a little.

Throughout the rehearsal, I also noticed how close Anushmita di and Anurika di were with the two senior boys. They seemed to joke and talk so effortlessly. Probably old friends or seniors from the same club.

By the time our rehearsal ended, both Dishita's and my classes were already over. So we headed home together.

As soon as I reached, I went straight to my room. I freshened up, tossed my college bag to the corner, and flopped onto the bed.

And then,

Ring.

Ring.

My phone buzzed beside me.

"Satyam?" I blinked at the screen. "Wait, is it 8 already?"

I glanced at the clock.

8:00 PM. Sharp.

He calls every single day at 8. Our ritual.

"Hello?" I answered.

"How were rehearsals today?" Satyam asked, voice calm and steady as always.

"It was good! You tell me, what happened in class today?" I said, then added in a dramatic sing song voice, "Satyammmm!"

"Hmmm?" he replied in the exact same tone.

"Tujhe pata hai aj kya hua?" I said, leaning into the pillow with a grin.

"Nope, nahi pata tune kuch nahi bataya, kya hua aj?" he asked.

"Ughh, Okay listen, remember the guy I told you about? The one from the washroom?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Well....he studies at our college. He's a senior. And he's a participant in the event!" I said, all hyped up.

"Ohhhh, so that's what's going on," Satyam said calmly.

We kept talking joking, teasing, sharing every tiny stupid detail. It felt like one minute, but when I checked the clock, a whole hour had passed.

Just then, Mamma called me downstairs for dinner.

I ran downstairs, wolfed down my food, and came back up.

After finishing my night routine, I picked up my favorite book and started reading.

And somewhere between chapters, under the soft warmth of my blanket

sleep took me away before I even realized it.