The email arrived just after sunrise.
Rhea rubbed her eyes, still half-asleep, when she saw the subject line flashing on her phone:
Congratulations! Your film has been shortlisted for the National College Film Festival.
For a heartbeat, she just stared. Then, in a rush, she screamed — loud enough to wake the entire hostel floor.
Within minutes, her phone was buzzing. Aarav called first.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming," he said, voice rough with disbelief.
"You're not!" she laughed, jumping onto her bed. "Aarav, we made it — we actually made it!"
And somewhere, on the other end of campus, Kabir smiled at the sound of their joy echoing through the hallways — though his own chest tightened with a quiet ache he didn't name.
A Dream Finally Real
By noon, the trio met at their favorite campus café, a place that had seen every one of their brainstorms and breakdowns.
Aarav was already there, hair a mess, face glowing with restless excitement. He couldn't sit still. "National festival, Rhea! National! Do you realize what this means?"
"It means people from all over India will see our film," she said, still dazed. "It means—"
"—it means this is only the beginning," Aarav finished, grinning.
Kabir arrived late, breathless but smiling. He carried three cold coffees in his hands. "I heard shouting from halfway across the campus. I assumed the apocalypse."
Rhea laughed, eyes shining. "Close. We're going national."
Kabir froze mid-step, blinking. "Wait—what?"
Aarav clapped him on the back. "We're shortlisted, bro! One of twenty entries across the country!"
For a second, Kabir said nothing. Then he exhaled slowly, letting the words settle. "We did it," he whispered.
"We did," Rhea said, meeting his gaze. "Together."
Between Excitement and Fear
The days leading up to the festival were a blur of emails, editing tweaks, and sleepless nights. Aarav was perfection-obsessed, Rhea handled the visuals, and Kabir rehearsed their Q&A answers as if they were performing live theater.
But beneath the laughter and caffeine, tension simmered.
Aarav's ambition had grown sharper, his tone more clipped. "We need to cut that five-second shot—it drags the pacing," he said one evening.
Rhea frowned. "That shot defines the tone, Aarav. It's the emotional beat."
He sighed, impatient. "Emotion won't matter if the judges get bored."
Kabir stepped in quietly. "He's right about the pacing… but maybe keep the shot shorter instead of deleting it."
Rhea looked between them, frustration giving way to resignation. "Fine. Shorter. But not gone."
Aarav nodded, but his eyes were already back on the screen.
As they worked, Kabir caught a flicker of something in Rhea's expression — fatigue mixed with something deeper. A small distance growing between her and Aarav, built of unspoken arguments and creative pride.
The Day of the Journey
The train to Mumbai left at dawn.
Rhea was the first to arrive at the station, a backpack slung over her shoulder, her camera hanging by her side like a lifeline.
Aarav arrived next, two suitcases in tow. "Ready to meet destiny?" he asked, grinning.
She smiled, but something in her chest fluttered nervously. "Destiny sounds heavy. Can we start with breakfast first?"
Kabir joined last, sleepy but calm, carrying a guitar case. "If this is destiny, at least let it have a soundtrack," he said.
The three of them boarded together, laughing, bumping shoulders, sharing snacks as the train rumbled forward. For a while, it felt like nothing could touch them.
Mumbai waited ahead — the city of lights, of screens, of dreams too large for their hearts.
Festival Fever
The festival grounds were everything they'd imagined and more — red carpets, flashing cameras, students and filmmakers from across the country. Banners fluttered with slogans about creativity and youth, and the smell of popcorn and possibility filled the air.
Their film was scheduled for Day Two.
Rhea walked through the crowds, awestruck. "I've never seen so many people who love the same thing we do," she whispered.
Aarav's eyes darted around, calculating, absorbing. "Remember this," he said. "One day, it'll be our faces on those posters."
Kabir laughed softly. "Always two steps ahead, huh?"
"Someone has to be," Aarav replied.
There was no arrogance in his tone—just hunger. The kind that made people shine too brightly, too fast.
The Screening
When their film played, silence fell across the hall. The same silence that had filled their college auditorium weeks ago — but heavier now, charged with expectation.
Rhea couldn't look. She stared at the floor, fingers clenched around her camera strap.
Aarav's leg bounced restlessly. Kabir, seated between them, glanced once at each — and smiled.
When the screen faded to black, the applause came slow at first, then louder, deeper, waves of sound crashing through the hall.
Aarav exhaled. Rhea's tears spilled over. Kabir just leaned back and watched them both — pride and pain woven into the same smile.
They'd done it again. Only this time, the world was watching.
After the Applause
Later that night, they stood on the balcony of their rented guesthouse, city lights twinkling below.
"Tomorrow they announce the winners," Rhea said quietly. "Are you nervous?"
Aarav shook his head. "No. Because even if we don't win, they'll remember our names."
Kabir chuckled. "You sound like a politician."
"Visionary," Aarav corrected with a grin. "You'll thank me when we're famous."
Rhea smiled at both of them, though something about his certainty unsettled her.
Kabir looked at her, sensing it too, but said nothing. Sometimes, silence was the only kindness he could offer.
The Promise
As midnight approached, the noise of the city softened. They sat together on the floor, cross-legged, a half-eaten pizza between them.
"Let's make a promise," Rhea said suddenly.
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "What kind of promise?"
"That no matter what happens tomorrow — win or lose — we stay the same. No egos, no fights, no distance."
Kabir nodded slowly. "Deal."
Aarav smiled. "Deal."
They clinked their soda cans together, sealing a vow none of them realized would soon be tested in ways they couldn't imagine.
Outside, the city pulsed with light and laughter. Inside, three dreamers believed the world was theirs.