I couldn't sleep again that night. But tonight, it wasn't him on my mind—it was Anisha. I couldn't forget the moment she told me about her relationship with Tanev. It wasn't even a real relationship—it felt forced. They were friends, one day Tanev proposed, and Anisha, pressured, said yes. And now? She didn't even want to be with him. Tanev kept hurting her, yet Shela—and honestly, the entire class—was on his side. The rich, fashion-obsessed boy everyone admired. Anisha was completely alone.
Sometimes, she wondered if she was wrong to want out. But the truth? Tanev hurt her silently, pretending to care, pretending to be kind, and the class only took his side because he had a charming face. I get it—maybe Tanev wasn't a bad person, but he didn't know how to treat someone. If he did, Anisha wouldn't be crying. I forgave Tanev once, but Shela? How could she be blind to it?
Then Ayan came to mind. He cared about Anisha as a friend… didn't he see what was happening? Or was he pretending not to notice? Honestly, I hated everyone for letting this happen to Anisha. And I decided then—I would stand by her, no matter what. Even if it meant becoming Tanev's enemy.
---
The next day was Sunday. Anisha and I met at the cafe to rehearse the final script. We drank coffee and practiced till we had it perfect. I asked her how she was.
"Thanks, Siya. But… let it be. I'm already in this mess. I should just let it go," she said softly.
I shook my head. "No. Don't think about the class or anyone else. Value your feelings. What's the point of being in a relationship when you don't even feel it?"
She sighed. "Tomorrow's the function. I want it to go well. After that… I'll think about what you said."
I smiled. "Okay. And don't worry, Anisha. Right now, you've got me."
---
The next day, I was so excited. For the first time, I would let my hair down—well, almost. One simple ponytail, not the usual two long folds. I wore a pretty white top, black pants, and a black dupatta.
Anisha had done my makeup—none other than my co-anchor herself. We had decided to meet and get ready together, so we could match perfectly for the function. Same clothes, same earrings, same makeup. And honestly? We looked stunning.
We entered the school and saw Ayan and Tanev. Tanev glanced at Anisha and muttered, "You look pretty." She smiled. Then he saw me. "Umm… you look good too," he said awkwardly. I felt my cheeks burn.
Ayan? He was somewhere in his thoughts. I couldn't see his face, but I knew—he was thinking. Deep down, I wanted to see him, but I couldn't.
The school was decorated beautifully for the function. Gallons of flowers, banners, and lights—it was magical. Nayann, who was handling the music system, came to guide us.
"Siya, Anisha," he said kindly, "don't worry. AyyaN and I will be there to help you both. Just focus on the function."
Finally, the function began. We welcomed our chief guests, the seniors, and started the performances—drama, dance, mimicry, songs. Anisha had a dance performance too, leaving me to handle the rest of the script alone. Suddenly, the mic stopped working. Panic struck me. Nayann wasn't around, and no one knew how to fix it.
My eyes searched for Nayann. No luck. I glanced at Ayan, hoping he understood my silent plea. He nodded and disappeared.
Then, someone gently took my hand and led me into the system room. My heart skipped. He asked calmly, "What's wrong?"
"The mic… it's not working," I said, panic rising.
He chuckled softly, pointing to a tiny switch. "Relax. It's just off. See?"
I felt so embarrassed. He laughed quietly, controlling it, and said, "Don't be tense. I'm here to help you."
I nodded and left, feeling strangely happy and reassured. During the break, I went back to the system room where Ayan was. He offered me water, and as I drank, I couldn't help but notice him—white shirt, perfectly matching features, the pink of his lips, the moles, the way his eyes complemented his outfit.
He caught me staring and asked, "Any problem?"
"No," I said.
He smiled. "Okay. I'm leaving now, but if anything happens, just call me. I'll be watching you and Anisha."
I nodded. God, why is he so good? I couldn't blame him—it was just who he was. But in that moment, something clicked inside me. A conclusion formed.
No more sadness. No more complications. No more problems.
For the first time, I felt… clear.