Dev's P.O.V

With a burst of adrenaline, I leap from my seat and hug my mom for reassurance. Her whispered encouragement lingers in my ears as I make my way backstage. The air buzzes with praise for Arya and Asim's stellar performances, but I can barely take it in. My breath feels stuck in my chest, and my heart pounds like it's trying to escape. It's my turn now, time to face the expectant audience and nail the final scene with Piya. Divya, our director, gives Piya some last-minute instructions near the stage while I stand frozen by the dressing room door.

All my confidence drains away, leaving my hands trembling and my throat tight. How can I possibly perform in front of all those people? Their eyes will be on me, judging every move. What if I mess up and disappoint my dad? I stand just behind the stage, my palms sweaty and my throat dry with anxiety. This level of fear is completely new to me; I can't afford to mess up.

In that moment of overwhelming fear, a familiar touch brushes against my fingers, and my fist relaxes. I let that touch work its magic, the fingers intertwining with mine, providing a firm grip. The warmth of his touch seeps into my arm, radiating comfort. It spreads beneath my skin, releasing tension and loosening every fiber of my being. I feel myself surrendering to the sensation, my muscles easing. The warmth extends to my shoulders, gradually unraveling the knot in my throat. As the audience chatter fades into the background, I take deeper breaths, my inhalations growing easier.

His touch continues its journey, traveling to the depths of my heart, an unfamiliar yet soothing sensation. It envelops me, cocooning me in an unprecedented warmth and comfort. I've never experienced anything like it before. My heartbeat steadies, synchronized with the rhythm of his presence. The warmth courses through my body, permeating every inch, until I am completely at ease.

Raj remains silent, not questioning, giving me the time I need. Finally, I release my tension and turn my gaze upward, meeting his warm eyes. His smile is a balm to my soul, and he leans in close, his breath tickling my ear. "I'll be right there with you, standing in front of you. Tonight, will you..." he shifts his gaze to meet mine, "...sing for me?"

Anything... "For you," I reply, nodding, and attempt to return his smile.
...

Stepping onto the stage, I'm hit with a rush of nervous energy. The audience seems to stretch on forever, their faces lost in the blinding stage lights. It's overwhelming, and all I want to do is run away.

But then, I spot him. Raj is standing near the edge of the stage, and just seeing him there brings me a sense of peace. It's like his presence cuts through all the chaos in my mind, making me feel like I can handle anything. Suddenly, the nerves don't seem so bad.

"Tonight, will you sing for me?" His words are soft, but they reach me clearly, calming me down. I'm not just singing for a crowd of strangers anymore; I'm singing for Raj. With him in mind, I feel more confident, and my voice feels stronger.

For you, Raj. Anything and everything.
....

Arya P.O.V

Na Chain Se Jeene Degi Na Chain Se Marne Degi

(It (the world) will not let us live in peace or die in peace.)

Na Chain Se Jeene Degi Na Chain Se Marne Degi
(It will neither allow us to live peacefully nor to die in peace.)

Han Chalo Le Chalein Tumhein Taaron Ke Shehar Mein
(Let's take you to the city of the stars.)

Dharti Pe Yeh Duniya Hamein Pyar Na Karne Degi
(On Earth, this world is not going to let us love each other freely.)

My eyes sweep across the dimly lit auditorium, taking in the sea of faces. Among them, I spot Meghana, her eyes locked onto Ahan's. There's a silent conversation going on between them. Her lips quiver, and she clutches her dupatta like it's the only thing keeping her grounded. It looks like she's about to burst into tears any second now.

On stage, Dev and Piya are owning the spotlight. Piya is a powerhouse, her voice filling the room with energy. She moves with the grace of a pro, and the audience is hooked on every note. Dev, meanwhile, is steady, gripping the microphone tight. His eyes never leave Raj, who's standing at the foot of the stairs, smiling brightly. Dev's voice is so raw and powerful that it brings tears to the eyes of even the toughest people in the audience.

As the last notes fade away, a calm silence fills the room. I glance at Meghana, now in tears. She stands up suddenly, rushing toward the exit, her pain clear to everyone. I want to comfort her, but I know she needs Ahan right now. He follows her out, their paths meeting outside the auditorium.

Should I give them privacy? Forget that. When did our parents ever bother with privacy? If they never cared, why should I? Curiosity gets the best of me, and I find myself heading toward the back door next to the makeup room. My footsteps echo down the hallway. Asim is there, leaning against the wall, eyes glued to his phone. I don't even acknowledge him. My fingers grip the doorknob, and with a groan, the rusty hinges give way as I push the door open, letting a sliver of light cut through the gloom.

The campus is drenched in darkness, the night wrapping itself around the school grounds. I shake my head, a bit amused and annoyed by the layout. Who thought it was a good idea to scatter everything across different buildings? Labs in one, classrooms in another, and a lone auditorium sitting in the middle of nowhere. It's like they used a map drawn by a drunk homeless guy pretending to be an architect for a piece of bread outside an abandoned restaurant to design this place.

I follow the path that borders the auditorium, the faint lights guiding me. I glance toward the space between the auditorium and the library. The moon casts a soft, enchanting glow. Then, I hear it-a heart-wrenching sound that stops me in my tracks. It's Meghna's voice, thick with pain. I can't help myself. I inch closer, peeking around the corner.

In the glow of the front lights, I see them-two figures intertwined. Meghna, her face streaked with tears, leans against Ahan's chest, her sobs breaking the silence. His arms wrap around her, a gentle haven against her storm. He whispers to her, his words soft and soothing. Her cries grow more desperate, her grip on him unyielding.

Through the tears, Meghna gasps, "I was so scared, Ahan... I'm still scared."

His response is quiet, too soft for me to catch, but his eyes speak volumes as he gazes at her. They're not fighting, and the way they cling to each other exudes a fragile hope. Ahan presses a tender kiss on her head, and her grip tightens, seeking refuge in his presence. It's both painful and beautiful, a raw display of emotions that tugs at my heartstrings.

But a jolt of panic hits me - my mom is heading this way. Her eyes are scanning, probably looking for Meghna. I can't let her witness this vulnerable moment. Swiftly, I pivot and hurry to the other side of the building, my footfalls echoing down the empty corridor.

Turning the corner, I feel a rush of relief. The exit stands before me, and I quicken my pace. People are pouring out of the auditorium, urgency in their steps. I weave through the crowd, a mix of determination and anxiety propelling me. My heart thrums, a rhythm of anticipation, until I reach the end of the building.
Peeking around the edge, I spot Meghna and Ahan beneath the tree's shelter, close to the library window. I squint, scanning the surroundings, and searching for my mom. But she's nowhere to be found. A sigh of relief escapes me, a momentary break from the storm.

Just as I'm about to turn away, a sudden presence behind me sends a jolt through my body. Mom. Standing inches away. My heart leaps into my throat, my pulse racing with a cocktail of fear and anticipation. She follows my gaze, and her eyes narrow as they lock onto Meghna and Ahan. In an instant, her curiosity gives way to a blaze of anger. Panic courses through me-this can't be happening. After all the torment Meghna's been through, after finding someone who truly understands her, I won't let Mom destroy that peace. Not if I can help it.

"Isn't that the professor... Khan?" Mom's voice is a venomous hiss, demanding an answer from me. I stay silent, focusing on her face illuminated by a nearby streetlight. A deep flush creeps across her features, a sign of her rising fury. She takes a bold step towards the yard, and without hesitation, I position myself before her, a barrier to protect Meghna.

"What?" Her voice slices through the night, sharp and pointed.

"Stay away, Mom," I assert, determination lacing my words. "Stay away from her."

"Arya!" She utters my name, anger barely restrained, venom dripping from her voice.

I stand my ground, arms crossed defiantly. I won't back down, won't let her hurt Meghna. As Mom's face darkens, anger escalating, she takes another step forward. I match her movement, my body moving instinctively to block her path.

"Arya, what's gotten into you?" Her voice crackles with indignation.

"What's gotten into you?" I fire back, my gaze unyielding. I gesture towards Meghna and Ahan.

"Can't you see she's happy with him?"

"She can't be happy with him," Mom shakes her head vehemently, fury radiating from her. That's enough. I can't tolerate this toxic mindset anymore. The very people who've stifled Meghna, who've confined her to societal norms, are the ones speaking now.

"Oh, really?" My voice drips with scorn, frustration burning underneath. "So she can't be happy with someone who genuinely cares, someone ready to do anything for her? But she can be forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger, just like Dad?" I step closer, closing the distance between us. Our eyes lock, and the intensity in my gaze reflects my unyielding determination. "You wanted to be a teacher, remember? What happened to that dream? Your ambitions were crushed under Dad's ego."

"He's your father," she gasps, desperation etched on her face. But I don't give in to her feeble protest.

"He'll find someone like him for your daughter, won't he?" I raise my voice, anger and anguish mingling. "Someone who'll smother her dreams, break her desires, and she'll end up just like you. Is that what you want for her? A life devoid of passion, of purpose?" Emotion swells, tears prickling my eyes, threatening to spill.

The lump in my throat tightens, a fierce struggle to break free. "But guess what, Mom? I won't let any of that happen. She'll live the life she wants, the life she deserves," I scream with all the strength within me, my words reverberating through the night.

Mom's mouth hangs open, tears welling in her eyes. She looks torn between me and Meghna in the distance. Silence stretches, thick tension hanging in the air. Slowly, she lowers her eyes, defeated. With a final glance, she steps back, retreating. She walks away.

My heart pounds, triumph, and sorrow intermingling. I watch her fade into the darkness until she's just a silhouette until she's gone. In this moment, I feel the weight of my words and the impact on our relationship. But I also feel an unbreakable resolve, a fierce determination to shield Meghna from a lifeless existence.

Turning back to Meghna and Ahan, their silhouettes stand strong against the library window, against a night imbued with defiance.

II take a deep breath, my heart still racing from the confrontation. Turning to the side, I catch Asim's figure against the corner wall. A faint smile graces his lips, resembling a proud teacher observing a student who's just won a science fair trophy.

He strolls towards me, hands tucked into his pockets, radiating gentle warmth in his voice. "You really care for your sister, don't you?"

Care for her? Well, it's more complex than that. I might have a big heart, but she's the queen of needing help for even the simplest tasks.

"Why does that matter to you?" I respond, moving past him. The embers of anger still burn within me, and I'd rather not drag him into it.

"Because Ahan is my brother," Asim calls from behind, causing me to halt in my tracks.

Wait, what? I pivot to face him, a blend of disbelief and confusion written all over me.

"Ahan Khan is the brother of Asim Khan," Ahan chuckles, coming closer.

No shit, Sherlock. It's a fairly common surname. Obviously, I wouldn't connect the dots...

"But how long have you known about them?"

He shrugs casually, "For months. My brother and I are tight, so I was already in the loop. When he showed me photos of her, I noticed you in some."

This guy had it all figured out from the start, yet he played the oblivious card when it came to the script's inspiration. His charade of ignorance makes me feel a bit foolish.

"You were deliberately playing along with this drama?" I murmur, almost in disbelief.

He meets my gaze somberly and takes a step closer. His voice wavers as he speaks, "Why else do you think I offered to help you?" His eyes shift towards the yard where faint sobs waft from the bathroom.

He inhales deeply, his voice laced with sadness. "It's painful to hear them crying, isn't it?" Tears glisten at the corners of his eyes, and my chest tightens at the sight. I reach out, resting my hand on his arm, and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He glances up at me, and the truth is clear in his eyes. Offering a small smile, I coax a faint one onto his lips.

I nod slowly, "Yes, it is."

It truly is. It's excruciating to hear those stifled sobs emanating from the bathroom late at night. It's frustrating to pound on pillows in the dark, feeling helpless in the face of her pain. Observing her vacant gaze at the untouched dinner spread on the table-it all cuts deep.

He smiles gently as we move together, distancing ourselves from the crowd, the night enshrouding us. His lips curl, warming my heart with that tender smile.

We don't need many words. The silence between us is serene. All we hear are the leaves crunch beneath our feet and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. But we find no need to fill the silence with empty chatter.

Finally, he breaks it. "He's a good guy," he remarks, his voice carrying affection.

"Yeah, I've met him. The first time I saw him, I wanted to punch him, but then I heard his side of the story..." I trail off, shrugging, and he chuckles softly.

"Yeah, they're both quite the crybabies," he adds, his words tinged with laughter.

We continue walking alongside one another, enveloped in a harmonious silence. The gravel beneath our feet produces a satisfying crunch as we eventually reach the library. Asim settles on the steps outside the building, and I find a spot beside him. We sit together, at ease within the stillness, soaking in the atmosphere around us. The stars shimmer above in the night sky, while fireflies twinkle and sway, casting their delicate light into the darkness. Moonlight drapes over us like a gentle embrace, infusing the surroundings with a tranquil aura.

His gaze remains unfocused, and I catch him subtly licking his lips. He begins to speak with a tone that carries a tinge of being lost, "He was shattered. Our dinner table became a battleground between him and our father. It felt like not a single meal could pass without sparks flying. It was ceaseless." There's a soft melancholy in his laughter.

He turns his head to meet my gaze, the moonlight catching the corner of his eyes, creating a glint. "He truly loves your sister, with all his heart," he continues, his voice layered with a mixture of respect and vulnerability. He swallows, a touch of struggle evident, "Sure, he might not possess your courage or my level of intellect," he chuckles, "but one thing is undeniable-he's never shown such strength until now. He stands up against our father for her, defies societal norms to see her again, and challenges our father every time he says a word against Meghna. I'm convinced he'd move mountains for her."

In the moonlit ambiance, I finally notice his eyes, captivated by their depth. They're a rich, alluring shade of brown, akin to pools of melted chocolate. His gaze is gentle yet carries an enigmatic undertone, drawing me in.

Without exchanging words, we remain seated in silence, finding comfort in the hush that surrounds us. The only audible sounds are the subtle rustling of leaves beneath us and the tender breeze weaving through the trees. Speech isn't necessary; we understand one another without needing to articulate.

Asim's eyes stay fixed on the night sky as he sighs, "He deserves happiness, just as your sister does. They both deserve to be together, to find solace in each other's presence."

I lean in closer, my voice barely a whisper, "We'll make sure they find that happiness, won't we?"

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he turns to meet my gaze. "Absolutely," he replies, determination resounding in his tone. "We'll go to great lengths to see those smiles return to their faces."