2. LEAVING

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☆ミIVAAN'S POV :

I was packing my clothes as tomorrow we are leaving, when a video call popped up in our group. As i answered, I heard raj say " sorry guys, but i am not comming tomorrow. I will be there after eight days".

"Why though? ", i asked. " Because i will be comming with the bride and groom's sole best friend , Roshni....Shreya made it clear that I had to come with Roshni ".

"Seriously man ! You pushed us to commit to tomorrow, and now you're backing out. What exactly is your issue? ", sahil said in a tone that seemed right on the verge of breakdown.

This drama queen.

" You don't get it guys , her travelling alone is dangerous. She is-",Raj had barely begun to explain himself when Sahil sharply interrupted him mid-sentence." Bro are you serious , din kai waqt woh b airport mai kon kha jaye ga ussai?"

"It is not like she's some rare diamond under constant threat . I’m pretty sure she’s old enough to handle herself." i said because seriously I was getting irritated now . First Mom, and now Raj. After all that drama, they’re not even coming tomorrow.

I am not disrespecting her .

I respect women. My mother made sure of that. But popularity has its downsides — most women I meet don’t see me, they see the fame and cling to me like leeches, That’s why I stay away.

"Bro when I said it's dangerous for her to travel alone, I didn't mean she can be in danger—i mean SHE is the danger for everyone around her . She is a ticking bomb, one wrong move and boom", Raj explained.

"What's that supposed to mean?",Confusion laced my voice. After all, I had never heard a girl described as a ticking bomb before. "The only thing I can say is ,She is the kind of danger that smiles softly before destroying you", he replied.

Interesting.

“But how can we go without you? Let’s just go together.”I don’t know why I said it, but the words slipped out anyway.

Sahil’s face popped up on the screen, way too close to the camera. “Wait— did Ivaan Randhawa just suggest traveling with a girl?” he said, grinning like he’d discovered a national secret.

“First of all, move your face away from the camera,” I muttered.“Second,Raj said she’s different, that’s it. And when did I suggest traveling with a girl? I meant us traveling together. Try using your brain for once.”

Sahil squinted at me. “Ohhh, so now I’m brainless? After all I’ve done for you?”

“Please,” I scoffed, fighting a smile. “Your biggest achievement is surviving with that haircut.”

Raj burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Can we focus?”

I turned to him. “We’re going. Tomorrow or eight days later, I don’t care. We’re going together. And if that girl feels comfortable, she can join.”

“Sounds good. I’ll check with Shreya and update you both soon,” Raj replied.

We talked for a little while longer, none of us in a hurry to end the call. The teasing slowly faded into comfortable silence, the kind only years of friendship can build. When the screen finally went dark, the room felt strangely quiet.

I stood there for a moment before going back to packing. Not because I was excited — but because I had nothing else to distract myself with.

During the call, we had decided we’d spend the next eight days together, just hanging out.

It was rare for all of us to be free at the same time, and maybe that’s why the thought settled warmly in my chest.

At dinner, I casually told Mom that our trip had been postponed. As a certain “ticking bomb,” as Raj dramatically calls her, would be joining us after eight days. I tried to sound indifferent, but a small part of me was already bracing for whatever chaos she might bring.

we have eight free days ahead of us. No rushing. No plans. Just us.

And maybe…that was exactly what we needed.

The three of us grew up together, sharing every small moment of childhood as if time would never change anything. But life moved forward, giving each of us our own paths to follow. We still meet, still laugh the same way we used to, yet moments when the three of us sit together like before have become rare… and strangely precious.

After dinner, I stepped onto the balcony with my guitar, the night air cool against my skin. The house was quiet, peaceful — the kind of quiet people pray for.

I began to strum.

While thinking about how my life has become.

By day, I was the sunshine boy. The loud laugh. The easy smile. The one who made jokes before anyone else could feel awkward. Performing in front of thousands, charming interviewers, throwing winks at the camera — it was effortless. People loved the brightness.

No one ever asked what it cost.

Under the stage lights, I didn’t have to think. The applause filled every crack inside me. It drowned out old memories — the sharp words, the heavy silences, the nights when smiling meant survival.

But here, under the moon, there was no audience to perform for.

The smile slipped.

My fingers moved across the strings, slower now. Softer. The melody carried the parts of me I never let anyone see.

I sing about love, about freedom, about hope — and people call me sunshine.

They don’t see that the sun burns too.

I was also, once a quiet boy who despised smiles, people, and noise.

Silence was the only place where I felt safe.

Then one day, a little girl walked into my life—bright, loud, and overflowing with laughter. She was everything I avoided, everything I never thought I could endure. Yet somehow, in that brief moment we shared, she gave me a kind of happiness I had never known before.

We met only once. Just once.

And then she was gone, carried away by time like a fleeting ray of sunlight.

I don’t know where she is now, what kind of life she lives, or if she even remembers the quiet boy she met that day.

But I remember.

I always will.

Because she was the reason the boy who once hated the light slowly learned how to become the sunshine himself.

I pushed her thoughts aside and lifted my gaze to the endless sky.

The wind brushed past me gently, and for a moment, I allowed myself to stop pretending. No wide grin. No jokes. Just quiet breathing and a heart that still flinched at loud sounds.

After a while, I put the guitar down and stood up. By tomorrow morning, the smile would be back in place — easy, bright, untouchable.

☆ミROSHNI'S POV:

Tomorrow morning, I’m supposed to leave for Goa with Raj bhai and his friends.

And I can only pray that HE isn’t one of them.

Please, God… anyone but HIM.

Wait… why do I care?

No...I don’t care.

I hate him—

with every part of my being.

The entire trip was arranged without my knowledge. I found out about it a week ago when Shreya casually mentioned it during a phone call, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. She spoke about it so lightly, brushing it off as nothing more than a fortunate coincidence that perfectly aligned with my travel plans.

But I know Shreya far too well to fall for that.

There was no coincidence here.

She planned this.

Every bit of it.

And I know exactly why.

After the disturbing incident that happened recently, she has been worried about me—far more worried than she lets on. The idea of me traveling alone probably terrified her enough to take matters into her own hands.

I know my best friend loves me. I know she only wants to protect me.

But that doesn’t make this any easier.

Because this whole situation makes me feel something I absolutely despise—fragile. As if everyone suddenly sees me as some delicate thing that might shatter if left on its own.

And I hate that.

The truth is, I’m not fragile. I’m more than capable of handling myself. I don’t need anyone hovering around just to make sure I stay safe.

I tried to protest when she told me.

But She didn’t budge.

She simply ignored every word I said… and moved forward with her plan as if my opinion didn’t matter at all.

Right now i am packing so that I don't have any problem tomorrow.

I zipped my suitcase shut and stared at it for a moment. We were leaving early in the morning—our flight was at 9 a.m and right now the time was 10 p.m.

I sat down in the living room to eat the dinner Maa had brought for me, something I desperately needed after days of neglecting myself.

The warm food in front of me should have kept me awake, but my body had other plans.

Somewhere between a few bites, I unknowingly drifted off, my head resting against the sofa.

Maybe it was the overwhelming fatigue or maybe not, i didn’t know .

Ironically, the insomnia that usually kept me awake for hours had no power tonight. Sleep claimed me with surprising ease. In fact, it wasn’t even sleep—I had practically passed out.

After all, in the past eight days I had slept less than eighteen hours in total, and even those broken fragments had been stolen during the daytime.

☆ミAUTHOR'S POV:

Ivaan, Raj, and Sahil had spent the last eight days doing nothing but hanging out together, enjoying the rare freedom of doing absolutely nothing.

Today, however, was the day they were supposed to leave for Goa. Their flight was at 9 a.m., so by 6 a.m. they were already at Ivaan’s house, saying goodbye to his mother.

Ivaan hugged her tightly and was telling her to take care of herself .

Just then Raj walked in from behind, his brows slightly furrowed as he stared at his phone.

“Roshni isn’t answering my calls,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of worry. “I’ve been trying for a long time.”

“Maybe she’s asleep. Try again,” Sahil said casually.

Raj dialed again, holding the phone to his ear, but the call rang and rang until it finally disconnected. This time his jaw tightened.

“She never ignores calls,” Raj thought, staring at the silent phone. “And she’s definitely not asleep.” A strange fear crept into his mind.

Something felt off.

He quickly dialed Shreya instead.

When she picked up and heard about it , she got worried and told him to go to her mansion right away.

They also got a bit worried after seeing Shreya's reaction.

She sent them her address.

Without wasting another second, they said a final goodbye to Ivaan’s mother and hurried out.

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Why does Roshni hate him and don't want to see him?

Who is that little girl Ivaan was thinking about ?

Any guesses?

AUTHOR SAARA