Dev P.O.V.

Why can't I catch a break? Those dark clouds that haunted me in the past, they've found their way here too. Why? Why can't I just have a normal year? Why do I have to face him again, right here in this school? Everything was going amazing... but now, Do I have to run away again? Do I have to start everything from scratch? Do I have to leave Raj behind?

No, no, no... I can't. I can't do it anymore. Running away, hiding from him, from my fears, from those cruel people, from the judgmental gazes, from the whispers... I can't keep doing it. Why should I be the one running? I'm the one going to therapy, I'm the one who had to face those bullies... I'm the one whose face was...

I can't hold it in I release a shaky breath, and tears well up in my eyes. Mom senses my distress and swiftly pulls the car to the side of the road. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug, and I can't help but break down completely. The car fills with the sound of my sobs and hiccups. I bury my face in her shoulder, feeling her hair brush against my wet cheeks. Mom holds me tightly, as if I might disappear if she lets go. My fingers grip onto her back, seeking some sense of grounding, while her hand starts tracing gentle circles on my back.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here, you're going to be okay," she whispers repeatedly in my ear, her voice soothing and comforting. Her fingers continue to trace patterns through my hair, providing a small measure of solace.

After what feels like an eternity, I start to calm down, pulling away slightly to settle back into the passenger seat. Mom lets out a sigh and hands me a water bottle.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asks in that comforting tone of hers, her voice barely above a whisper.

I'm paralyzed, unable to summon the strength to make a sound. But I can't repeat the same mistake I made before. I remember the pain it caused my mom when she discovered the truth, when she witnessed me crumbling under the weight of my struggles. She stood by me through it all, even when I pushed her away. I can't bear to see that anguish in her eyes again.

I stare into her eyes, searching for the right words to convey the turmoil inside me. My throat feels constricted, and I swallow hard, trying to gather my thoughts. It's a battlefield within me, a tangle of fear, shame, and uncertainty.

"I... I got a message from him this morning," I finally manage to say, my voice strained and vulnerable. "Not just today, but for a few days... and today, it all became too much. I couldn't hold it in anymore."

Mom's expression shifts to one of concern mixed with a simmering anger. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I would have reported him to the police—"

I interrupt her, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination. "Mom, no, please. We've talked about this. If we involve the police, Dad will find out."

She shakes her head, a blend of worry and defiance in her eyes. "I can handle him, but what if he comes after you again? What if he hurts you?"

My grip tightens on her hand, desperation and fear driving my words. "We reported him to the school and spoke to his mom. That should be enough... I don't know. I'm sorry, Mom, but I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry."

I turn away, gazing out of the car window, my mind overwhelmed with the memories and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. The road stretches before me, a path filled with shadows and hidden dangers. I can't find the strength to face it all, to confront the nightmares that haunt me.

We come to a stop, and I retreat to the solitude of my room. It's my sanctuary, but today it feels like a prison. I collapse onto my bed, my body weary and drained. The room seems to close in around me, its walls closing like a vise. It's suffocating, suffusing the air with a palpable heaviness.

Everything feels like a replay, a cruel cycle repeating itself. Those initial days of hope and sunlight at my new school, my chance for a fresh start—they've been shattered in less than two weeks. The darkness from my past, the specter I've tried to escape, has found me again.

I turn my gaze towards the corner of my room, where my guitar stands, a symbol of solace and expression. But today, it feels distant, as if an insurmountable barrier separates me from the music that once brought me joy. Across the room, my faithful companion, Miss Diary, sits on the desk, its pages filled with my deepest thoughts and secrets. Yet, even it appears lifeless and unresponsive, mirroring the numbness that has settled within me. Maybe this is who I truly am—a coward, a lonely soul trapped in a pathetic existence. It's no wonder I struggle to make lasting connections, to find a friend who can understand and accept me without pity or judgment. Maybe I'm destined to be alone, to run away from everything again and again then what's the point of having a friend anyway.

My phone vibrates suddenly, jolting me from my self-imposed isolation. Dread twists in the pit of my stomach. Is it him again? Can he somehow see me even from this distance? Panic grips my heart as I slowly retrieve the phone from my pocket, my hands shaking uncontrollably. The screen illuminates, revealing a message notification, and a surge of trepidation courses through my veins. Every fiber of my being resists the urge to unlock the device and confront whatever awaits me on the other side.

I did anyway, I take out my phone from my pocket with trembling hands.

It's Raj.

And for a fleeting moment, a flicker of hope ignites within me.

My hands steady for the first time in what feels like an eternity. With a shaky exhale, I receive the call and clear my throat, "Hey."

"Hey Dev, Arya told me earlier that you're not well so you couldn't make it today. I'm sorry I was in that play meeting, so I couldn't call earlier. How are you feeling now?"

Tears well up in my eyes once more, but this time they are tears of gratitude. Despite the turmoil that engulfs me, maybe I am not alone.

Better, much better. "It wasn't anything serious, just a headache. I'm alright. Don't worry."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I am."

An awkward silence fills the space between us, and my heart races with the fear of being left alone again, swallowed by these suffocating walls.

But he doesn't hang up. Instead, he asks, "Wanna hear about the meeting?"

Anything, as long as it's your voice. "I wouldn't mind."

He goes silent for a moment, then chuckles. But it's not his usual carefree laughter; there's a hint of something else beneath the surface. "It was boring, though."

"I can bear it," I whisper, and I mean it. As long as it's his voice, I can listen to anything in any language, even if I don't understand a word, for hours on end.

And so, he begins to paint a vivid picture of the meeting, describing every detail from Arya's badass decision to Mayank's nonsensical ideas. He recounts how Divya was fuming with anger towards Arya and how Asim resumed his teasing antics. I listen intently, the sound of his voice becoming my lifeline, anchoring me to the present moment.

But then, he falls silent again. Still, he doesn't hang up, and a surge of hope fills my chest. I don't want to slip back into the abyss of anxiety.

"Wanna listen to a song?" I offer unexpectedly, a desperate attempt to prolong our connection.

"You don't have to," he whispers after a second.

"I want to." Because yes, I really want to. It's the only thing that can make me feel light again, and I can't do that alone... without him.

After talking to him, I feel a flicker of energy return to my body. With newfound determination, I rise from my bed and make my way to the window. Sitting on the floor, I position myself near the glass, where the dying rays of the setting sun cast a warm, reddish glow across the sky. Outside, the tall buildings stand as sentinels, shielding me from the outside world.

I place my phone on speaker, gently pressing it against the cool surface of the window. With anticipation coursing through my veins, I reach for my guitar, its strings resonating with the memories of countless melodies and emotions.

As my fingers find their place on the fretboard, my mind drifts back to that first day. The day when I felt lost and anxious amidst a sea of unfamiliar faces. And then, out of nowhere, his voice emerged, like a guiding light in the darkness. That voice, so unfamiliar yet strangely familiar, had the power to make the crowd disappear, leaving only a strange yet beautiful connection between us.

In his presence, I found solace without uttering a single word about my past. He understood, instinctively, the weight that I carried within me. He knew that some memories were too painful to speak aloud, that revisiting them would only invite more anguish.

I think of his smile, radiant and uplifting, like the sun rising to chase away the shadows. It has a way of finding me, even in the darkest corners, infusing my world with warmth and light. Today, as these suffocating walls threatened to engulf me, as loneliness gnawed at my soul, and as the specter of my past loomed ever closer, he appeared. Like a guardian angel, he reached out to me, not fully aware of the depth of my need for him.

A gentle smile breaks across my face as I touch the strings of my guitar, the instrument that has become my confidant, my companion through the darkest nights. With each strum, I weave a melody, letting the music speak the words that my lips dare not utter. In this moment, with the sound of his voice still echoing in my heart, I find solace, hope, and the strength to face another day.

Muskurane ki wajah tum ho
(I'm smiling here, it's because of you.)

Gungunane ki wajah tum ho
(I'm singing here, just for you)

Jiya jaaye Na, jaaye Na, jaaye Na O re piya re
(Now I Cannot live my beloved without you)

O re lamhe tu kahin mat jaa
(Oh moment don't go anywhere)

Ho sake toh umr bhar tham jaa
(If it's possible stay here for all life right here)

Jiya jaaye Na, jaaye Na, jaaye naa O re piya re
(Cannot live without you my darling my beloved)

Dhoop aaye toh, chhaanv tum laana
(If bad times come you bring the good times reducing the pain of bad times)

Khwahishon ki baarishon mein Bheeg sang jaana
(In the rain of wishes, join me to get drenched in those dreams of mine)

Jiya jaaye Na, jaaye Na, jaaye naa O re piya re
(Cannot live my beloved without you )

"Can't I have a peaceful evening in my own house?" The thunderous shout reverberates through the walls, sending a jolt of panic coursing through my veins. My fingers tremble, and I almost lose my grip on the guitar, the only anchor keeping me grounded in this chaotic world.

With a racing heart, I swiftly bring the phone to my ear, seeking solace in the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey," I manage to say, my breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"It... It was beautiful," the other voice responds, his tone filled with warmth and understanding. I can almost see the gentle curve of his smile, even through the phone.

My chest tightens, and I moisten my dry lips, attempting to steady myself. "It was for y-"

"Stay away from that guitar for today," the voice interrupts, his words laced with concern.

"I'll call you later," I hastily end the call, my instincts urging me to take immediate action. Panic courses through my veins as I rush toward the door.

As I swing it open, my heart leaps into my throat, choking my words. Dad stands before me, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears, a devastating sight that shakes me to my core. His trembling lips quiver with unspoken emotions, and his hands desperately clutch at the nearby wall for support. Is he drunk?

He takes a step closer, his gaze fixated on my guitar, anger simmering in his eyes. His voice, though slurred, echoes with the familiar disappointment and frustration that have become all too familiar to me.

"I am working my ass off for you, and you can't even do one thing for me?" His words tumble out, disjointed and muddled, yet their meaning remains painfully clear. This tirade, in one form or another, has become a haunting refrain in my life.

"I only asked you to get into a med college next year," he continues, his words laced with bitterness.

The air in the room grows thick with tension as my father's words pierce through me like shards of glass. Panic floods my senses, and my heartbeat quickens to a frantic pace. Every muscle in my body tenses, and my hands tremble uncontrollably, making it difficult to maintain a steady grip on the phone.

His voice, laced with disappointment and anger, feels like a suffocating weight on my chest. The room begins to spin around me, the walls closing in as my breathing becomes shallow and erratic. I struggle to find my voice, my throat constricting with each passing second.

"Can't you hold your guitar until then? You can play all you want once you get in that fucking colle-"

"Enough!" A piercing scream interrupts his tirade, slicing through the tension-soaked air. It's Mom, her voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. Her footsteps echo up the staircase, drawing her closer to the scene unfolding before her eyes.

Dad's eyes widen in surprise as she takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. Her intense glare is met with his own growing apprehension, his heart racing with each passing second. I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears, the rapid thumping echoing the rising tension in the room. My hands tremble uncontrollably, betraying the fear that courses through my veins. No, please, not now. I silently plead, hoping against hope that this confrontation won't unfold before my eyes. I grasp the door handle tightly, anchoring myself as my body threatens to crumble under the weight of the impending storm.

"You won't say a word to my kid ever again," she shouts, her voice laced with fury, each word slicing through the air and hanging heavy with emotion.

The words hang in the air, and my heart plummets as I realize there's no turning back. The fight has begun, and it's all because of me. Panic sets in, consuming me from within as I feel the familiar tremors course through my body. I'm powerless to stop it—everything. I can't make Dad leave, I can't make Mom calm down, I can't do anything.

"Dad, huh?" Mom scoffs sarcastically, her voice dripping with bitterness. "Where was this so-called dad when his kid needed him? Where the fuck was he when those people were tearing my child apart? Where was this father figure when our child was tormented by nightmares and lived every moment in fear? What the fuck does he know about our child?" Her voice rises with each question, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, as if the mere act of speaking threatens to overwhelm her.

The raw pain in her voice pierces through my being, searing into my soul. I shrink against the door, my body trembling uncontrollably, as Mom unleashes her anguish upon Dad. Each accusation, each syllable laced with hurt, tears at the fragile fragments of my heart. I want to scream, to make them stop, but my voice remains trapped within me, stifled by the suffocating weight of my anxiety.

"Do you know why our child had to leave that school?" Mom continues, her voice low but filled with a seething intensity. "Do you have any idea where our child has to go on weekends? Have you ever bothered to understand what this music means to him—the music you dismiss as noise?" Her words hang heavy in the air, and she takes another step closer to Dad, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you truly knew him, you could probably tell how he's feeling right now by the mere choice of this song. But you don't. Because you don't know him at all, Sanjay. So, if you couldn't be his father when he needed you, don't pretend to be one now. Stay the hell away from my child!"

Dad's eyes fill with a mixture of terror and tears, his gaze shifting between me and Mom. His hands tremble, sweat glistening on his palms as he wipes them against his pants. He takes a step back, his retreat mirroring the defeat etched across his face.

Dread and despair intertwine within me as the battle between my parents rages on. The room feels oppressive, its walls closing in on me, amplifying my sense of helplessness. My chest tightens, making it difficult to draw a steady breath, while my hands shake uncontrollably.

Seeking solace and support, I press my back against the door, desperately holding onto its solid presence. The mounting intensity of their voices becomes overwhelming, each word exchanged feeling like a dagger piercing my already wounded soul.

Finally, Dad slowly turns away, his gaze lingering on Mom before he slides open the terrace door. Mom, in response, turns her back to him, her stance firm and resolute. He lowers his head, his defeated posture a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment, and quietly exits.

"Mom," I manage to whisper, my voice trembling with a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. But before I can say anything more, she gently cuts me off.

"Don't worry, my baby," she reassures me, her voice filled with unwavering determination. "I promised you that I will protect you from everything, from everyone. Nobody can hurt you as long as I am here. And Dev, I will keep my promise." Her words wash over me, like a soothing balm for my wounded spirit. Cupping my face in her warm hands, she imparts a sense of safety and security that instantly revives me. I release my grip on the doorknob, taking a tentative step forward to embrace her, seeking solace in her presence. It's not a tight hug, but rather one filled with gentle comfort and understanding.

In that moment, it becomes unclear who is comforting whom. Perhaps we both find solace in the embrace, drawing strength from one another. The softness of her dupatta against my cheek, infused with her motherly scent, works like magic to calm my racing heart. I can only hope that, in some way, I offer her the same comfort that she provides me.

"Take some rest, sweetheart," she whispers, stepping back and heading towards the stairs. "There's food in the fridge if you feel like eating. Please take care of yourself, okay?" Her words hold a tenderness that both soothes and saddens me.

As I watch her ascend the stairs, a sense of unease settles within me. Change is inevitable, and I can feel it looming over us like an ominous cloud. Things are gonna change for sure. The fear of what this change may bring weighs heavily on my heart. But amidst the uncertainty, I cling to a glimmer of hope that this change won't unravel the delicate fabric of our lives in the way I fear.