College Basketball Ground — At the Same Time
The sun was still strong over the open court. Shadows of the hoops stretched long over the concrete.
Sweat clung to the backs of the boys practicing under the firm (and furious) command of the basketball coach.
"I said LOUDER!" the coach bellowed, pacing near the half-court. "You lazy jokers got energy to dance at some costume party, but when it's time to train—your asses are stuck to the floor!"
The group of boys burst into laughter, barely containing themselves.
One of them, wiping sweat off his forehead, muttered,
"Coach needs to cool down… or someone get him an ice bath."
Another added, "I swear, he thinks freshers' parties are the devil's invention."
Aarav, leaning on his knee after a sprint, grinned. "Let's spice this up. Half of the college is in that seminar hall, right?"
The others nodded.
He stood upright and smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Alright — one of us distracts coach. The rest? We bolt. Seminar hall. Let's crash the chaos."
"Bro, he'll kill us!" someone whispered.
"Not if we run fast enough," Aarav replied.
The next second — one guy purposely dropped a water bottle and pretended to twist his ankle.
"Coach! I think he's hurt!"
While the coach rushed over, flustered and mumbling,
four boys sprinted toward the corridor, laughing hysterically.
Aarav led the way, high-fiving one of them mid-run.
Their sneakers slapped against the corridor floor, echoing like drums. One boy yelled, "Freshers party, here we come!"
---
Back in the Seminar Hall…
Niki blinked back into reality as the door burst open.
The group of sweaty boys barged in, panting, still laughing.
People turned, some annoyed, some amused.
Aarav, still catching his breath, held up both hands.
"Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to remind you all — party's in two days. Don't die of boredom before it begins!"
The tension cracked. A few giggles, a few claps. Even the student leader who was just about to assign duties gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up.
"Nice of you to show up, Mr. Distraction," he said dryly.
Aarav grinned. "Just keeping the vibe alive."
His eyes scanned the room briefly, then landed on Niki.
He gave her a quick smile — warm, harmless, familiar.
And for Niki, it was a breath of air after feeling choked.
She smiled back, softly.
Just for a second.
Across the room…
Aditya saw it.
His jaw clenched.
He pushed off the wall.
And walked out.
Just Outside the Seminar Hall — After the Meeting
The crowd had begun to scatter. Instructions given, names assigned, duties forced upon unwilling volunteers — the student leader was finally satisfied.
Some students lingered in clusters, others made excuses to escape the "hectic" party prep.
Niki stepped out quietly, holding her notebook to her chest, her steps directed toward the library. Her expression was calm, unreadable — as if the day hadn't touched her much.
Behind her, a voice called out.
"Hey."
She turned slightly.
It was Aarav, standing there, backpack hanging off one shoulder, a lazy half-smile on his face.
"Hi," she said, simple, soft.
"Where you headed?" he asked.
"Library," she replied. No hesitation. No dramatic pause.
"Of course," he chuckled. "Because planning a party isn't enough pressure."
Niki gave a faint smile, the kind that ends before it fully forms. "Deadlines don't wait."
There was no awkwardness.
No flirtation.
No weight to the conversation — but still, something between them hung like a pause in music.
Aarav nodded, but didn't follow. He knew better than to walk uninvited.
Niki gave a short nod back and turned.
And as she walked
It was 8:25 PM and Nikki's hands moved faster than her thoughts.
She'd cleared three tables in the last ten minutes, served six, and answered twice as many customer questions with polite smiles she didn't mean.
But her mind wasn't in the café.
It was back home—where Raavi and Sam's were already waiting.
Tonight wasn't just any night.
It was their night.
A plan made weeks ago. They were finally gathering to prepare for Sam's wedding—choosing clothes, discussing mehndi designs, cracking jokes, taking photos they'd look back on five years later. A girls' evening filled with loud colors and louder laughter.
And Nikki was supposed to be home by 9:00 PM sharp.
She glanced at the clock again.
8:27.
"Bikky," she said, catching his arm as he walked by. "Crowd's thinning. I need to leave soon—just a few things at home."
He nodded, already reaching for his phone. "Sure, I'll tell the staff to start wrap-up."
But just then, the door chimed.
The sound that always made her breath hitch.
Aditya.
He walked in with four men, all dressed to impress, loud in both voice and presence. They took their seats like they'd reserved the whole place.
Nikki froze near the service counter.
Not tonight. Please, not tonight.
Aditya looked around slowly—then at her. Just a second. Just enough.
Then he said, his voice calm but heavy with authority:
"These are important guests. Make sure the staff doesn't leave."
Bikky frowned. "Actually, Nikki has something urgent—she's been here since four. Can she go? The rest of us can handle—"
Aditya interrupted without looking directly at Nikki.
His tone sharpened.
"If they're important, the whole staff stays."
Silence.
Bikky glanced at Nikki, his jaw clenched. But his hands were tied.
Aditya wasn't just a random customer—he was the silent owner of this place.
Nikki didn't say anything.
She just stood there, still, as if her legs belonged to someone else.
The seconds ticked.
The sound of the kitchen. The laughter from Aditya's table. The low background music.
But all Nikki could hear was her heartbeat.
And the time—8:31… 8:35… 8:40.
She didn't move.
She didn't protest.
She had learned not to.
Her phone buzzed in her apron. A message from Raavi:
"Sam's tried on her 3rd lehenga and now wants to elope with all of them. Come fast or we'll FaceTime-bomb you."
Nikki stared at the screen, then slipped it back into her pocket.
She stood near the side wall, arms folded tightly, eyes on the floor.
She wasn't angry. Not visibly.
But something in her face had dulled.
That tiny spark that came alive when she spoke of home, friends, or freedom… had dimmed.
Aditya looked at her once—just once—and smirked.
He had no reason to hold her back. But he did.
Not to ruin her evening.
Just to remind her he still could.