Ruhani had never noticed how loud the corridors were until Vihaan stopped walking beside her. They used to laugh between classes. Sit on the stairs with half-eaten samosas. He always had a comment about her terrible taste in movie remakes. She always made him smile when the world got too much.

But now? Silence.

He didn't wait outside her lecture hall anymore. He didn't reply to her memes or her long rants about the latest Raj sighting, and today—he didn't even show up to their usual canteen spot. She checked her phone for the third time.

Ruhani: Hey. Where are you? Don't tell me you skipped lunch again. Vihaan?

No reply.

Across the canteen, Sia watched her with a concerned expression. "Is something wrong between you two?"

Ruhani gave her a half-hearted smile. "He's just... busy, maybe? Exams, you know."

But even as she said it, her heart clenched. Because Vihaan was never just busy.

Later that day, she found him outside the library. Alone. Scribbling in a notebook. His hoodie hood up despite the heat, his headphones in.

She hesitated, then walked toward him, nerves buzzing.

"Hey," she said softly.

He didn't look up immediately. Then—

"Hey," he echoed, still not meeting her eyes.

She sat beside him on the bench.

"So... this is how we talk now?"

He finally looked at her, and for a second, she saw the Vihaan she knew—the softness, the calm. But it flickered too fast. Replaced by something unreadable.

"You've been busy with Raj," he said casually, eyes returning to his notebook.

Her breath caught.

"You're mad at me... for talking to someone I like?"

"No," he said too quickly. "Why would I be mad? I'm just your—"

He stopped himself.

"Just my what?" she asked quietly.

He didn't answer. The silence that followed was heavier than anger. It was hollow. Fragile.

Ruhani tried to smile. "Vihaan... if I did something wrong, just say it."

He shut the notebook.

"You didn't. I just need some space."

"Space from me?"

"Yeah."

He stood up and walked away, and for the first time since she met him, Ruhani felt cold. Not because he was angry. But because he was gone—even while standing right in front of her.

A few days later,

When Raj Malhotra invited her to his house party, Ruhani felt her breath catch. This wasn't a casual text. Not a group outing. Not "Everyone's going; you can come too."

It was him.... Asking her.... Directly. A dream she had folded into the deepest corners of her heart suddenly unfurled. All day, she floated through college like she was drifting through a music video, her favorite love song on loop in her head. Her cheeks hurt from smiling. Her stomach fluttering like a thousand nervous butterflies.

The moment she reached Raj's house, her breath hitched again. It wasn't a house. It was a statement. Tall gates... Marble steps. Soft yellow lights dripping elegance. Music pulsing faintly through expensive walls. It looked like every dream she wasn't sure she deserved.

It looked like every dream she wasn't sure she deserved. Raj opened the door before she could knock—charming as ever, dimples flashing like a promise.

"You're here," he said, eyes raking over her quickly.

Her heart somersaulted. "I... I hope I'm not late."

"You're perfect," he smiled. "Come in."

She stepped inside, half shy, half thrilled... waiting to hear laughter, chatter, and clinking glasses.

But there was nothing... No guests.... No party. Just silence and the two of them.

She blinked, confused. "You said... a party?"

Raj shrugged, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

"They bailed. Some family dinner drama. It's just us now." He leaned in slightly. "You don't mind, right?"

Her pulse stuttered—uncertainty lacing her excitement now. But his charm wrapped around her like silk. She didn't know how to say no.

"A... a quiet night is fine," she whispered.

He smiled like he had just won something and as she stepped deeper into his lavish world,
her Bollywood fantasy still flickering... Ruhani had no idea that every shimmering dream she brought with her was about to be tested—brutally.

He offered her a drink. She refused.

"Just water," she said.

He laughed. "You're cute."

They sat on the couch. He played a song. Something slow and sensual. The lights dimmed slightly, and suddenly, he was too close. Before she could process it, his hand brushed her cheek. His fingers trailed down to her jaw.

She stiffened. "Raj—"

And then he leaned in.... Not gently. Not thoughtfully.... Just entitled.

She turned her face. "Raj, stop—I didn't come here for this."

He pulled back slightly, confused. Then smirked.

"Oh, come on. You've been following me like a lost puppy for months. What did you think this was?"

Her mouth went dry. "I just... I thought we were getting to know each other—"

"Spare me," he laughed. "You think someone like me wants to 'get to know' someone like you?"

The words felt like slaps. But he wasn't done.

"Girls like you—chubby, lonely—you're all the same. Desperate for a little male attention. A few smiles and suddenly you're dreaming of weddings and love songs."

Tears burned in her eyes. But she stayed still.

"You'll never be anyone's girlfriend, Ruhani," he said, voice now cruel. "You're the shameful secret guys use, not love."

She slapped him... Hard. The sound echoed. So did the silence that followed. She stood, chest heaving, vision blurred with rage.

"You may be rich and handsome, Raj Malhotra," she whispered, "but you're still a cheap coward."

He stared at her, stunned. She didn't wait for a response. She walked out, her dupatta fluttering behind her like a battle flag. Ruhani didn't remember how she got home. Her dupatta was half-fallen. Her lipstick, once carefully applied, had faded and smudged at the corners. Her kajal had bled under her eyes, but she didn't care. Not tonight.

She didn't text Sia. She didn't call Vihaan. She didn't even glance at her phone. She just went straight to the one person who had seen her through scraped knees, failed tests, and first heartbreaks.

Her sister.

"Priya Di," her voice cracked as she stepped into her room.

Priya looked up from her tablet, and the second she saw Ruhani's face, everything else dropped.

"Ruhani?" She stood up, alarmed. "What happened? What—who did this to you?"

Ruhani collapsed onto the bed, shoulders shaking, and then it all poured out. The invite. The house. The kiss she didn't want.... The words. The words that hurt more than any touch ever could.

"He said... He said no one would ever love a girl like me," she whispered. "That I'm the kind of girl men use. That I'm desperate."

Priya's eyes turned dark with fury, but she didn't interrupt. She held her sister as Ruhani cried like she hadn't cried in years.

All the dreams she had of Raj—shattered. All the fairy tales—burnt to ash. All the pride she carried was cracked open by one boy's cruelty.

"I'm so stupid," Ruhani sobbed. "I thought if I just loved hard enough, if I dressed up, if I smiled—maybe someone would look at me like I was worth it."

Priya pulled her close, wiping her tears gently.

"Listen to me, Ruhani," she said, voice trembling. "You are worth it. You've always been worth it. He—that boy—he's trash in expensive clothing. But you? You're magic."

Ruhani looked at her, eyes puffy, voice a whisper. "Then why does it still hurt so much?"

Priya kissed her forehead.

"When someone truly falls for you, you'll know what it feels like to be loved—fiercely, completely. You'll understand why waiting for your own prince charming is worth it. You're human. Because you loved with a heart too big for this world. But hear me—you will survive this. And one day, when you're shining in your own light, he'll look back on this night and regret not treating you like the treasure you are."

That night, Ruhani didn't sleep much. But when she finally closed her eyes, it wasn't Raj's face that haunted her.

It was Vihaan—quiet, kind, and suddenly so far away—and somewhere deep inside, a part of her missed the boy who never made her feel small.