The Vaghela house set was buzzing again by dawn. Lights rigged over fake courtyard walls, makeup vans lined outside, junior artists with dusty dupattas practicing background chatter.
Inside the green room, Sidharth sat calmly in Kabir's rugged kurta and jeans, reviewing the day's call sheet. Beside him, Shashank (Roop) grumbled over his lines, while Donal (Ishika) teased him about tripping over simple romantic dialogues.
The director bustled in, waving fresh pages.
"Alright team, minor script adjustment. We want to deepen the triangle. Kabir, you'll start showing small moments — subtle looks, half-finished confessions. You love Ishika too, but out of respect for Roop, you stay silent."
Sidharth's brow rose slightly. It was a rich layer. A chance to play not just Roop's brother-in-arms, but a man who carried his own silent heartbreak.
Shashank smirked. "Uh-oh, looks like you'll have all the girls rooting for Kabir now."
Donal laughed. "Maybe I'll start accidentally blushing at Kabir instead. The fandom would riot."
Sidharth just smiled faintly. "Love stories aren't always about winning. Sometimes it's about standing aside with grace."
The next sequence was the college campus — the same bright chaos, bikes zipping past, girls giggling, professors waving attendance sheets like swords.
In the scene, Kabir walked alongside Roop, sharing jokes and shoulder bumps, until Ishika entered, struggling to balance books. The script called for Kabir's eyes to soften — a fleeting vulnerability breaking his usual disciplined stillness.
"Action!"
Sidharth stepped forward, picked up a fallen book, and handed it to Ishika with a small smile. Their fingers brushed, Ishika's eyes flicked up, and Kabir looked away almost immediately, jaw tightening.
In that tiny hesitation, the camera caught everything — affection, guilt, resignation.
"Cut!"
The director clapped. "Brilliant, Sid. That quiet heartbreak — perfect."
Later, sitting on the stone steps, Shashank nudged him.
"You're making me look bad, bro. Girls on set are literally sighing after your scenes."
Sidharth just smirked. "Don't worry. The script's still yours."
Donal joined them, twirling her dupatta playfully.
"I think it's sweet. Kabir's type of love — steady, protective, never forcing itself — sometimes that stays with people more than grand gestures."
Sidharth tilted his head, a touch of irony in his eyes. "Sometimes it also means being left behind quietly. Both have their place."