[Scene opens in the campus café – soft lo-fi music playing]
Maya
(glancing at the menu)
Why is coffee always named like it's auditioning for a poetry slam?
"Mocha Midnight Whisper"? Seriously?
Aryan
(leans in with a teasing smile)
You drink something called a "storm in a cup" and I'm the dramatic one?
Maya
That's different.
Mine matches my soul 😌
Narration – Maya's Thought
He showed up.
Same hoodie. Same tired guitar case.
But this time… he asked to sit with me.
Aryan
(stirring black coffee)
So... what do literature students write about?
Or is it all just tragic metaphors and unread emails?
Maya
Depends on the heartbreak and the Wi-Fi.
I mostly write sad girls and slow deaths.
(pause)
And some love poems I never send.
Aryan
Hmm.
I sing songs I never admit are about real people.
Maya
(sips coffee, curious)
What's your real name, A.R.?
Aryan
What's yours, M.S.?
Maya
Maya Sharma.
And you?
(He hesitates. Just for a second.)
Aryan
Arjun Roy.
(Lie #1.)
Maya
Arjun… That suits you.
You don't look like an Aryan anyway.
(He smirks but looks away. The name stings.)
Narration – Aryan's Thought
She says my real name doesn't suit me.
Maybe that's a good thing.
Aryan Malik is here to ruin her.
Arjun Roy… is the man who keeps showing up to hear her speak.
Maya
(playfully)
So what brings a mysterious singer to my campus steps every Tuesday?
Aryan
My band's rehearsals are nearby.
Sometimes I just… need quiet noise.
Maya
Quiet noise?
Aryan
You.
You watching me like you're writing my obituary in rhymes.
But never judging.
(Pause. She blushes, looks away. He doesn't stop watching her.)
Maya
So what's your genre?
Aryan
Regret.
(smiles softly)
With some acoustic guilt on the side.
Maya
(laughs)
I like that.
We should write something together, for real.
Aryan
Okay. But just one rule:
Maya
What?
Aryan
No love songs.
(Silence. She sets her cup down.)
Maya
Why not?
Aryan
Because those always end in lies.
Narration – Maya's Thought
He says that so calmly.
Like he's lived through every ending twice.
Maya
Then let's write about almost-love.
That's safer.
Right?
Aryan
(softly)
No.
That's the most dangerous kind.
Maya
(teasing)
You're really dramatic for a coffee guy.
Aryan
I said I'm a singer, not emotionally healthy.
(Their drinks are almost empty. Rain starts again outside.)
Aryan
(pulls a notebook from his guitar case)
I have a half-written verse. Want to see?
Maya
Only if you let me ruin it with better words.
Aryan
(hands it to her)
Be my guest.
(On the page:)
🎶 "She walked into my silence / like thunder that forgot to break…" 🎶
Maya
(writing under it)
🎶 "...and left before the lightning reached my name." 🎶
(Their eyes meet.)
Narration – Aryan's Thought
She doesn't know she's writing the song of her own heartbreak.
And I don't know…
If I'll survive hearing her sing it one day.