The next morning, Space Academy buzzed like an overcharged amplifier.
It wasn't just the usual gossip. It was war drums.Because someone had dared to walk into Fab 5's territory and walk out untouched. Alive. Smirking.
"She played in front of him?""Not just played, yaar — she walked out like a queen.""What's her name again? New girl?"
The whispers followed Nandini like shadows as she walked through the main corridor — violin case on her back, eyes forward.
She didn't need to look around to know people were talking. She could feel it. The weight of curiosity. The sharp sting of judgment.
But she didn't care. She never had time to.
She had music classes to get to. And Rishabh's meds to drop off. And a long message from Navya waiting in her inbox about how she better spill every damn detail at lunch or else.
She was halfway up the stairs when the world — or rather, he — stopped her.
"Murthy."
That voice. That sharp, dragging voice like it didn't believe in softness.
Nandini turned.
Manik.
Black hoodie. Sleeves rolled. Leaning against the wall like the corridor was built for him. His eyes unreadable. Like he was watching her through layers only he could see.
"Good morning," she said, tone casual.
That caught him off guard — and she saw it. The flicker in his expression.
"You're not supposed to be this calm," he muttered.
"Why? Were you expecting me to cry in a corner?"
"Most people do."
She tilted her head. "Maybe I'm not most people."
Another flicker. This one… something like intrigue.
He pushed off the wall and stepped closer. Close enough that she could smell that dangerous mix of musk and guitar strings and rebellion. Close enough that she saw the twitch in his jaw when she didn't step back.
"Why are you here, Nandini?" he asked.
"To study."
"Don't play smart."
"I'm not," she said softly, "I'm playing honest. Try it sometime."
Silence.
And then — a half-smirk.Not amused. Not warm. Just… curious.
"I don't like being challenged."
"And I don't like being threatened."
She stepped around him and kept walking.
And for the first time in years, Manik Malhotra turned around to watch someone walk away.
🌪️ Somewhere else on campus...
"Dude," Cabir said, tossing a drumstick into the air, "you're spiraling."
"No, I'm not."
"You haven't touched your guitar since yesterday. You haven't threatened anyone. You're thinking. That's terrifying."
Manik didn't answer.
Because he was thinking.Not about Fab 5. Not about music. Not even about his father's last message still unopened on his phone.
Just one thing.
Her.
The calm in her voice. The clarity in her eyes. The music she played.
And the fact that for the first time since he picked up a guitar — someone had tuned him.
And she didn't even realize it.