His startup—a fitness supplement and gym-wear brand named "IronSoul"—went viral on Instagram. He gained followers, not because he was shirtless, but because he was real. He documented the pain, the struggle, the mental scars.
At a college fest, a girl bumped into him and dropped her phone.
It was Sanya.
She didn't recognize him.
Until he spoke.
"Aarav…?" she gasped.
He smiled, calm. "Hey, Sanya."
She stared—stunned at how he looked. She started talking fast, laughing more than needed. Asked for his number again. Said they should "catch up."
He didn't hate her. But he didn't owe her anything either.
"I don't wait at metro stations anymore," he said, and walked away.