The open-air auditorium echoed with excitement as fans filled the seats, their cheers and chants echoing through the night. The stage was set, bathed in colorful lights, with a massive LED screen displaying the letters "MSK" in glittering font. The air buzzed with anticipation.

As the lights dimmed, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar. "MSK" was the crowd's mantra. The one name that dominated everything else. The one person who was their idol. The very beloved Rockstar of the nation. A hush fell over the auditorium as a spotlight illuminated the center of the stage. The familiar chords of music filled the air, sending a surge of adrenaline through the crowd.

The stage lit up with a bluish-grey fog as MSK walked onto the podium. Silhouetted against the glowing lights, MSK stepped into the spotlight, and the cheers reached a fever pitch. The fans waved and held up handmade signs, each one expressing their love for their idol, their Rockstar.

As the spotlight shifted, MSK came into view. MSK lifted his hand and waved. Girls swooned, boys yelled. The whole auditorium came alive with the chant of "MSK." The young girls could not take their eyes off him. Dressed in simple blue jeans and a white T-shirt that showcased his abs, he looked like a Greek god. Those hazel eyes smiled when he smiled at them. At 25, he had mastered the art of playing for the crowd. No one knew what lurked behind those shining eyes or the teasing smile. The man was an enigma to everyone. Despite being the Rockstar, he guarded his privacy fiercely. No one knew who MSK was, no one knew about his family. All they knew was that he was a performer, and he never disappointed them.

The lights dimmed again. The crowd held their breaths in anticipation. They had waited all evening to hear him sing, spent an insane amount on the show's tickets. They could not wait a second longer. MSK looked up and scanned the crowd. His heart raced in his chest. It was his birthday. He had agreed to the concert in the town in the hope that he would come. The one man who meant the whole world to him.

There were so many cheering faces, so many people calling out to him, but the one face he wanted to see was missing. He closed his eyes. Tears rushed to his eyes, but he did not let them escape. He was a showman. The world would never know the depths of his pain. They had paid for the performance, and he would give them a performance they would not forget in life. He never backed down on any deal.

The performance that night was filled with joy that he did not feel. He sang to entertain the crowd, giving them what they needed, like he always did. The crowd was enthralled. The performance came to a close, but the crowd wanted more. MSK stood up to sign off, but the crowd erupted with requests for another song.

"One more, please, MSK," his fans began to scream.

MSK was exhausted. He had traveled for 16 hours to reach the small town. He had been in Chicago the night before. He could not make himself spend the night in a strange city. He wanted to come back home. He was desperate to find his way back home, but he knew that road was very long and filled with turmoil.

"MSK, please," the crowd chanted again.

MSK removed his guitar. Singing was never a burden for him; it was the one thing that gave him solace, the one thing that connected him to the brother he had left behind, to the only father he had ever known. He wished he had told him that when they had been together. He wished he told his mom how much he loved her. He wished he told his younger brother how much he adored him. He wished he could tell them all how badly he missed them.

He looked up. He knew they would be seeing him from somewhere. He prayed they were seeing him.

"They say home is where the heart is," his voice was so powerful that it compelled silence. Everyone looked at him in anticipation.

"No matter how far a bird flies, it would always come back to its nest. I hope one day every heart finds its own home. This song is dedicated to the people I left behind, who are forever in my heart."

He closed his eyes. He could see their smiling faces. He could feel his bhaiya's warm embrace. His champ's laughter echoed in his ears. He could still smell the rajma chawal that his mother made for him. He had left all that behind when he walked away. He could trade his soul to get back what he had lost, but he knew that would never happen.

When he sang, his voice was filled with emotions. It was not the MSK singing for the crowd. It was a son singing for the family he had left behind. His voice reverberated with pain and longing. His soul bared for the whole world to see. Every word he sang, every note, told tales of pain and separation. The crowd could not move. The performance had moved them to tears.

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The music faded away. MSK pulled himself together. He had taken a risk and bared his soul. He hoped he had sent the message. He could no longer stay back; he was desperate to go back home.

"MSK, it's time," a voice whispered in his earphone. It was his manager. It was time to end the show. The showman could never take a break. He forced a smile and looked up, ready to wave to the crowd, but he was shocked when he saw him there.

For a minute, he could not believe his eyes.

"Move, everyone!" Someone was yelling. A few police officials barged inside to clear the crowd as he made his way towards the stage. The whole world blurred around MSK. All he could see was him—his bhaiya. He had not aged a day. His amber eyes that had once radiated love now looked stone cold, devoid of any emotion. His eyes misted. What he could not give to see the same warmth in them again.

ACP Maan Singh Khurana hopped on the dais and protectively pushed MSK behind his back. A few other officers joined him and shielded MSK.

"We need to get you out of here, Sir. You are not safe here," Maan spoke coldly and guided him over to the officers.

"Sir?" MSK looked hurt.

Maan ignored the hurt in his eyes and looked at the officers, "Take him away. Make sure he gets to the hotel safely."

The officers tried to guide him away, but MSK stopped them. No one told him what to do. Not even ACP Maan Singh Khurana. He would have walked away without a word if it had been his bhaiya talking, but it was not his bhaiya. It was the ACP. He had no relationship with the ACP.

"I am fine. I can take care of myself," he looked at his brother, who refused to acknowledge him.

"We received intel that there would be an attack on you, Sir. This is not your big city; it's a small town. It's not every day that we receive threats here. Please cooperate."

"This may not be my big city, ACP, but the law is no different. I know my rights. I refuse protection. Ask your men to back away."

The brothers glared at each other. The officers looked at each other uncomfortably. The aggression was palpable. Two alphas were fighting for dominance. They had never seen anyone stand up to ACP Maan Singh Khurana. Whoever MSK was, he already had their interests piqued.

"I will not," Maan's voice boomed, "You are my responsibility as long as you are in this town....."

MSK gave a satirical smile. He had been the man's responsibility since the day he had been born, but he had also been much more than that. He refused to degrade their relationship to that level.

"Well, bro, someone once told me that every man has to take up his own responsibility. I don't think you can change that now. Ask your men to back away. I have my own security with me. I do not need........"

A gunshot rang in the auditorium, interrupting the conversation. The brothers looked up. A gang of masked men entered the auditorium with weapons. The crowd panicked and started dispersing. Maan pushed MSK behind his back. The officers and security team had him surrounded in no time. Maan pulled out his gun, ready to fire if the situation called for it.

The gang fired without warning, resulting in mass panic. Maan and the officers fired right back. The smell of gunfire filled the auditorium as mass stampede occurred. MSK looked shocked as he heard the cries of pain and fear. That is not what he wanted. He pushed past the security and came forward.

"Please, stop this," his voice boomed. For a second, the firing stopped. The gang got what they wanted: a clear shot at MSK. The officers tried to pull back MSK, but he refused to listen. Innocent lives were at stake because of him. He could not stay put.

"Maahir, back," Maan yelled as he helped people get out of the room. The auditorium security and constables were doing their best to get everyone out safely. MSK was buying them time; they knew how to do their job well.

MSK wanted to step back. He had never learned to defy the tone, but he was raised to do the right thing. He could not make himself step back.

"You guys want me; I am here. Let the others go. Please."

Maan looked up. MSK was completely unprotected. "Cover him," he yelled, just as a member from the gang raised his rifle to shoot. Maan hurled himself at the man. The shot misfired. Both of them fell down.

"Bhaiya!" MSK yelled; fear drove his adrenaline. He jumped down the podium and rushed to his brother's side. Maan saw him come down and got up to protect him, but it was too late. A gang member took the shot. MSK stumbled as the bullet pierced right through his right shoulder. Pain radiated through his body. His vision blurred for a few seconds. The gang was about to take another shot when Maan peppered him with bullets.

Gunshots rang in the air as Maan shot down every last one of them. He was livid with anger. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, Maahir was his child of heart. He had raised the boy as his own; no matter what he did, the love refused to fade away. The men had dared to hurt his child. The father in him wanted blood. If he had not been a trained officer of law, he would have gone for their heads. Despite wanting blood, the officer in him restrained the fury. He aimed to maim, not kill.

The gang members fell down one by one, howling in pain. The constables pulled the guns away from them and secured them. Once the last one fell, Maan rushed to MSK's side. His team had him surrounded. He was bleeding badly but was not letting anyone come closer.

"Take him to the hospital," Maan put the gun back in the holster and helped him up. Mahir had always been self-reliant. He hated taking help.

"I am fine," Maahir fought against the pain. He did not wish to be surrounded by strangers.

"You are not fine, Maahi; you need medical attention," Maan's tone gentled. It was not easy for him to see him in pain.

"Let them help you, please."

Mahir could not fight the pain and the plea. He leaned into the familiar warmth. He craved the attention that was once bestowed on him freely. He wanted the love that he lost.

Maan signaled for the paramedics to step in. Mahir's vision blurred. The paramedic wanted to give him a mild sedative. Mahir stopped him; he could not afford to lose consciousness. He needed to go back to his room. Someone was waiting for him.

"No..."

"Sir, you will be in a lot of pain."

"I said no," Mahir hissed.

"Zidh maat kar, Maahir. Let them help you."

Mahir shook his head. He was not being unreasonable; he needed to go back to the hotel as soon as possible, but the pain made it impossible for him to keep his eyes open. The blood loss was making his situation worse. As he felt the world spinning around him, he grabbed Maan's hand. He was the only one he could trust. The only one he could ask.

"Pari..." His voice faltered.

"Kaun Pari, Mahi?" Maan squeezed his hand gently. He could feel the desperation behind his voice.

"She is... hotel... Pari... bhaiya..." He could not finish his words. Mahir lost consciousness in his arms. Maan looked at the paramedics in panic.

"He is fine, Mr. Khurana. We just need to take him to the hospital. It's the effect of the pain."

Maan sighed in relief. The paramedics loaded Mahir into the ambulance. His manager hopped in with him. Maan wanted to follow them, but something Mahir said tugged at his consciousness. Even when he had been losing consciousness, he had been worried about Pari. But the real question was, who was Pari, and how was she related to Mahir? He did not know, but he intended to find out. With the decision made, he made his way to Mahir's hotel. Nothing could prepare him for the shock that awaited him at the hotel room. Why did Mahir never tell them? Did they not deserve to know about her? The truth left him shattered.