"Hi."

I shot a text to Alia without a second thought.

Because if anyone could help me in this mess, it was her.

I had considered reaching out to Mannat too, but she’s more likely to lecture me than actually help.

Not that she wouldn’t she would, eventually but for something this impulsive, I needed someone I could fully trust. And that’s Alia (bali ka bakra u can say)

Within three minutes, her reply popped up

"Bolo."

My chest tightened. No room for hesitation now.

I started typing.

Me: "Main Ruhi se mila tha..."

Pause.

Read.

Re-read.

Sent.

Me: "Blind date pe. Usko nahi pata tha main hoon."

Typing… not typing… typing…

Alia: "Tu pagal hai kya?"

Yeah... maybe I am.

But it worked.

For a while.

Me: "Usne mujhe dekha, royi nahi. Gussa nahi hui. Sirf baatein ki. Aankhon mein sab kuch tha… par ab? No calls. No texts. Kuch bhi nahi."

Me (right after): "Main usse phir se khona nahi chahta, Alia. Please… tu help karegi?"

And then came her reply,

Alia: "Pagal hogye ho kya? Ab kya chahiye tumhe?"

I froze.

Typing… waiting… typing…

And finally… The message came.

Alia: “Dekh, last time help kar rahi hoon. Iss baar agar uski aankhon mein ek bhi aansu dikha na…

Tujhe hospital pahuchane mein mujhe 10 minute bhi nahi lagenge.”

Honestly!

I’m a little scared.

Not just of how Ruhi will react…But of what’s at stake.

If I mess this up Alia could lose her friendship with her too. And that’s on me.

Me: “I promise… last chance hai.”

Alia didn’t say anything after that. Just dropped a location pin. No emojis. No extra words. Just… a silent warning.

I booked the cab immediately.

Then… just sat there. Staring at the screen like it could give me answers.

One minute.

Two.

Maybe more.

My thumb hovered over the home button, then pressed it.

Locked the phone.

Unlocked it again.

Checked the time.

Nothing had changed…except everything inside me.

My chest was tight. Breathing felt like work. I ran a hand through my hair, tugged at the roots like that would somehow fix the mess in my head.

Legs bouncing.

Knees shaking.

My foot tapped restlessly against the floor, out of sync with my heart that was thudding like a war drum.

I stood up.

Sat back down.

Stood up again.

Paced the room twice.

I grabbed my jacket from the chair and paused fingers trembling at the zipper.

Zipped it halfway, then stopped. Couldn’t decide if it was too hot or too cold or just me falling apart.

My mind wouldn't shut up.

What if she walks away?

What if she doesn’t even look at me?

What if I’m too late?

I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

Eyes wild. Hopeful. Stupid.

I didn’t recognize the version of me staring back.

But I had to go.  Even if it ended badly. Even if she never forgave me.

I had to try.

—--

I sat in the cab.

The ride felt longer than it actually was. Minutes stretched like hours, and every red light felt personal.

I reached my destination Ruhi’s college. Stepped out of the cab and paid the driver.

Adjusted my clothes, fixed my hair, and then…

my eyes began scanning the place,

searching, hoping just for a glimpse of her.

I kept rehearsing what I’d say over and over.

But every line I practiced vanished the second I saw her.

Ruhi.

Standing near that little café like a moment frozen in time.

She looked like peace.

Like everything I’ve ever searched for.

Even from a distance, she felt like home.

Familiar.

Warm.

Unreachable, yet mine once, maybe still.

Just the sight of her was enough to send me floating. Nine clouds wouldn’t be enough. Her presence alone undid me completely.

I looked at her…

Same black wavy hair.

Same fire in her eyes.

But something else too… distance.

She looked up. Saw me. Didn’t smile. Didn’t frown. Ignore me, my whole existence like i m Mr.India

She just stood still.

Me (softly): “Ruhi…”

I started walking toward her. She glanced at me once… then turned and made her way toward the college entrance.

I wanted to call out her name. Wanted to close the distance. Say something. Anything.

But I didn’t.

Because I knew the rules. Outsiders weren’t allowed. No ID, no entry. No exceptions.

So I stood there.

Helpless.

Hope slipping through my fingers as I watched her disappear inside.

And just like that, she was gone again out of sight, but never out of heart.

I waited.

Not because I had to.

But because hope stupid, stubborn hope anchored me to that spot.

What if she came back?

What if she turned around… just once

What if some part of her still felt what I did?

The guards glanced at me curiously. Students passed by, busy in their own worlds.

But mine had narrowed down to one thought Ruhi.

Minutes ticked by. I checked my phone.

No texts.

No calls.

Nothing.

Still, I waited.

Because love makes you wait. Even when you know better. Even when you know she probably won’t come back.

But still…

But What if?

My phone buzzed.

My heart leapt maybe it’s her. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she looked back.

I unlocked it with shaking fingers… Disappointment hit like a punch.

Spam.

Another useless text.

God, I hated hope sometimes. I sighed, slipping the phone back into my pocket.

Buzz.

Again.

This time, it wasn’t spam.

Alia.

Alia: “Mili? Woh?”

Me: “Haan… par woh college campus ke andar chali gayi.”

Alia: “Uff duffer! Mujhe pata tha tu koi na koi kaand karke rahega.”

And just like that she went offline.

Few minutes later, another message popped up.

Alia: “Kahan hai?”

Me: “In front of the café.”

Not even two minutes later, I heard the roar of her bike. She pulled up right in front of me, tires screeching slightly, making my heart skip a beat (jumpscare)

Before I could say anything, she threw something at my face.

An ID card.

Alia: “Jaa ab andar.”

I looked down, blinking.

A fake college ID my name, a random department… Enough to get me through the gate.

I looked up at her, stunned.

She didn’t smile. Didn’t blink.

Just said….

Alia: “Aakhri chance hai. Ruhi tak pahuch, ya phir bhool ja usse.”

I entered the college, heart pounding in my chest like a ticking bomb.

........

As soon as I passed the gate, I texted Alia.

Me: “Pahunch gaya.”

She replied almost instantly.

Alia: “Aage ka dekh lo, meri class hai. Kuch bhi garbar ho toh Mannat ko text karna ab.”

And then offline. Just like that.

Great.

Now I was standing in a college I didn’t belong to, holding a fake ID, and no clue where to find her.

I wandered through the corridors, eyes scanning every passing face. Some students looked at me weirdly maybe they could sense I didn’t fit in here.

I checked every common area I could think of...

The library. Empty.

The garden bench. No sign.

Near the canteen. Still no Ruhi.

With every minute passing, the anxiety crawled deeper into my gut.

Where are you, Ruhi?

I stood near the notice board, trying to make sense of the guiding map of the college.

Different departments.

Different buildings.

Classroom numbers… labs… lecture halls.

But mujhe toh uske subject tak nahi pata. Kis department mein hogi? Kis class mein?

I stared at the board like it would magically reveal her name. Frustrated, I pulled out my phone and texted Alia again...

Me: “Alia… please, ek hint de de. Kis subject mein hai Ruhi?”

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then again typing…

My phone buzzed again this time, a voice note from Alia.

I tapped play, and her annoyed voice filled my ears:

Alia (voice note) “Saale, bata diya na. Ab kuch bhi ho, Mannat ko puchh mere se nahi."

Another voice note:

"Woh psychology PhD department mein hai. Dekh le, mile toh mile. Ya phir usko hi call kar. Mera sar mat kha. Block kar dungi ab, sach mein.”

I couldn’t help but exhale a nervous laugh.

Isko toh mein dekhta hu, ek baar Ruhi maan Jaye bass.

I looked around again, now scanning for signs or boards pointing toward the Psychology building.

Finally spotted it at the far end of the corridor.

Me (murmuring) “Please Ruhi… bas ek baar mil jao.”

And I started walking, heart heavier with every step.

Just as I reached the Psychology department, the door to one of the classrooms opened.

And there she was.

Ruhi.

She stepped out, her hair tied up lazily, a notebook in her hand, that familiar spark in her eyes.

I froze on the spot and instinctively ducked behind a pillar near the L-shaped corridor.

"Chup (hide) kyun raha hai, Shaurya? Tu toh ussi se baat karne aaya tha." I scolded myself silently.

Still, I stayed hidden.

Coward.

I peeked from the corner, heart thudding like a drum, and saw her walk out with three other students…two guys and one girl.

She was laughing. With them. Something twisted in my chest.

Her laugh jo kabhi meri thi ab kisi aur ke jokes pe thi.

And I hated that.

Hated how those boys were standing so close, as if they belonged in her world now and I didn't.

Jealousy burned quietly.

Not the loud, possessive kind but the one that makes you feel… forgotten.

I didn’t approach.

Not yet.

I followed them quietly, keeping a distance. Steps calculated, heart anything but....

They talked for a while, walked across the corridor, laughing, teasing each other.

And I just… watched.

Like a ghost from her past.

Eventually, one by one, they started splitting away. The girl took a left toward the canteen. One guy got a call and turned back. The other waved her goodbye near the stairs.

And then she was alone.

Ruhi walked toward the library, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Still smiling faintly, lost in her own world.

I followed her there, slowly, like my feet were tied to invisible threads of guilt and hope.

She ascended the stairs slowly, and in one effortless motion, opened her hair.

Those long black waves fell down her back, swaying gently with every step.

It was unfair how effortlessly she carried that professor vibe in that simple white shirt, grey half-vest, black trousers, silver-rimmed specs, and that unreadable expression.

Elegant.

Intimidating.

Unreachable.

And still, somehow, all mine. at least once upon a time.

“Damn…” My brain short-circuited.

Double meaning thoughts started playing like background music in my head.

"Control kar, Shaurya…" I scolded myself internally. "Pehle mana le… baaki sab baad mein recreate kar lena yeh sab moment."

I took a deep breath, stood straight, fixed my shirt like it would give me strength.

Every cell in my body was nervous, but I knew I had to do this.

Now.

I climbed the steps, matching her pace until I was just a few feet behind.

“Hey… Ruhh…” My voice came out steadier than I expected.

She paused.

One foot on the next step, her body stilled, but she didn’t turn around.

Not yet.

My heart?

Going full dhol beats in Punjabi wedding.

She didn’t move.

Not for a whole three seconds. And in that tiny silence, my entire life flashed.

The times we used to love the moments when it was just her and me, no one else.

Her eyes, the way they spoke without needing words. That soft voice that never screamed, yet carried so much weight.

I remember our late-night future plans, her silly jokes, the unpredictable mood swings she tried to hide,

and how easily she’d get annoyed when someone said something to her only to come to me, venting like I was the only one who understood.

I didn’t realize those were the good days…

but then came…..the goodbye I never wanted.

She turned.

Slowly.

Her eyes met mine through those silver-rimmed frames.

Calm.

Quiet.

Sharp.

Not shocked. Not angry. Just unreadable.

Ruhi: “Tum?”

One word. No smile. No rage.

Just a loaded tum that slapped harder than a full sentence.

I swallowed hard.

Me: “Haan… main.”

She crossed her arms. Head tilted. Waiting.

I felt like a kid in detention.

Me (softly): “Main explain karta hoon… sab kuch.”

Ruhi (coolly): pehle ya btao andr kaise aye? Security ko bulau? Yahi se dhake mar ke bhar kr denge.

Caught. Red-handed. Red-faced.

I blinked.

Me (mumbling): baat toh suno meri

“Mujhe kuch nahi sunna tumhara. Sab khatam ho chuka hai. Dubara mere paas time waste karne ke liye waqt nahi hai. Dafaa ho jao. Mujhe shaanti se jeene do apni zindagi mein.”

She said it cold, final, and full of anger. 

Maybe there was more she added after that, I don’t even remember…

Because I was still stuck on her and yet….

I followed her.

Because when it comes to her…giving up was never an option.

"Ruhi…" I whispered her name under my breath, but she didn’t stop. She started to ascend the steps.

I matched her pace.

Didn’t need to try hard  we used to walk like this all the time.

Side by side.

Back when she let me hold her hand, not just walk behind her like some stranger she’s trying to shake off.

“Will you stop following me, Shaurya?” she snapped suddenly, spinning on her heel.

Her eyes, once soft for me, now burned with anger.

And something else.

Pain, maybe?

I shoved my hands into my pockets, playing it cool. Like her presence didn’t still wreck me. Like I wasn’t here just to see that fire in her eyes again.

“Following you? Ruh, I was just walking. It’s not my fault if our destinations match.”

She glared at me, and I swear, it almost made me smile.

God, I missed this.

I Missed her.

“Don’t call me that,” she said coldly.

My smirk deepened, even though it stung.

“Why not? You used to love it when I called you that.”

She turned away with a huff, trying to put space between us again.

“Well, I don’t anymore.”

Liar.

Her shoulders tensed at my voice.

I stepped closer, pinning her gently against the wall close enough to feel the tension between us crackle like static in the air.

I could almost hear her heartbeat pick up. I knew that rhythm better than my own.

She didn’t move, just lifted her chin and met my gaze with fire in her eyes, arms crossed like armor, her voice sharp as ever,

“Tumhe lagta hai ek baar phir… apni pyaari baatein karke wapas mujhe fasa loonga?”

But I didn’t flinch.

I just looked at her really looked at the hurt beneath her strength, the storm behind her silence, and the love she still hadn’t unlearned.

And then I spoke, not to convince her, but because the truth had been burning in my chest since the day I lost her

“Nahi Ruh… is baar fasane nahi… sirf tumhe waapis apna banane aaya hoon.”

She looked away, her voice laced with frost. 

“Mein ab pehli wali Ruhi Sharma nahi rahi. Main tumse kaafi dur nikal chuki hoon.”

I leaned in towards the wall, lowering my voice just enough to make her breath catch.

“Pehle wala toh main bhi nahi raha… par ab wala new version thoda zyada handsome aur sirf tumhara hone ke chahiye raha h”

Her jaw tightened, but the corners of her lips twitched, just a little.

"Bhard mein jao tum or tumhare new version. I don't care Now Mr Shaurya Singh Rajput" she said pushing me.

I stepped even closer, close enough to feel her heartbeat spike.

“Toh phir yeh dhadkan kyun tez ho rahi hai?” i said.

She clenched her fists, clearly fighting the smile, and said, “Tumhe jo sochna hai socho, mujhe koi farq nahi padta.”

I tilted my head, smirking ever so slightly.

“Farq toh padta hai, Ruhi… warna meri ek chhoti si baat pe tumhari saans kyun atakti?”

Her glare faltered as something shifted she stepped closer, the fire still in her eyes, but softer now.

“Tumhe lagta hai ke ek pal ki baat hai sab? Tum ase aaoge mere campus pe kisi Indian serial ki tarha or mein Impress ho jaungi then I'll let go everything happened between us and forgive you. Just like so called weak female leads in those serials?"

I placed a hand gently on the wall beside her, dropping the mask, but not the charm.

"Nahi, mujhe nahi lagta tum un weak leads jaisi ho… isiliye toh tumse pyaar kiya. Aur haan, serial jaisa drama nahi chahiye mujhe… bas tum chahiye, asli waali tum jo gussa karti hai, maarne ko daudti hai, phir bhi meri duniya lagti hai."

Ruhi stepped closer this time, anger flickering in her eyes.

"Kya chahte ho mujhse ab? Kya lene aaye ho ab dobara?"

My  voice softened, my intense gaze locking onto hers.

"Hum toh humari dhadkan… humari jeene ki wajah… wapas lene aaye hain itni door. Bas ek mauka dedo khud ko tumhare layak sabit krne ke liye Ruhi. Bas ek baar… i promise this time I won't let you go nor I will make u cry...please....just one chance..."

And then silence.

But even in that silence, I could hear it. Her breath hitching. Her walls cracking.

And I hoped just hoped that maybe, just maybe… her heart still remembered mine.

Ruhi’s breath hitched, just slightly. She looked away, blinking fast like she could blink the tears back in.

I took a step backward, but she didn’t move stillness, except for the quiet war raging behind her eyes.

“Ruhi…” I said softly, “main janta hoon maine galti ki. Bohot badi. Par main tumse jhoot bolne nahi aaya. Main bas… darta hu tumhe khone se. Aur ussi darr ne sab kuch chheen liya.”

Her jaw clenched; she still didn’t look at me.

My voice trembled with regret. “Mujhe pata hai… main deserve karta hoon tumhara gussa, tumhari khamoshi… sab kuch. Lekin mujhe ek baar..sirf ek baar…ek mauka do khud ko sabit krne ke liye.”

She finally turned to me, her eyes wet but unwavering.

“Tumhare experiments ke liye main koi test subject nahi thi, Shaurya. Main tumse pyaar karti thi. Aur tumne uss pyaar ko trick bana diya.”

That hurt. Deeply. But it was the truth. And I had no excuse.

“I tricked you… haan. Par main tumse jo pyaar karta hoon na, woh koi trick nahi tha, nahi hai…..

She closed her eyes for a second, like she was tired of fighting me but even more tired of feeling. I stepped closer again, gentler this time, voice barely above a breath.

“Tum chaaho toh main chala jaaunga… abhi ke abhi. Par agar tumhare dil ke kisi kone mein mere liye thodi si bhi jagah bachi ho…

Toh bas… ek kadam aage badha lo, sirf ek baar......main waise hi chala jaunga jaise aaya tha… khamoshi se.

Bas ek baar, Ruhi… keh do ke main sirf ek galti tha, hamesha ke liye tumhare life se chala jaunga"

I was on the verge of crying… but I held back. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to gain sympathy or emotionally manipulate her.

This wasn’t about guilt just sincerely want her.

And then I waited.

Seconds stretched like hours.

No words.

Just the sound of her breathing.

And then she turned away, took one step up the stairs.

{Reb: pagal na sochna author ki woh kya likh rhi h itni silence ki heart beat tak sunai de. It's coz out of India. Library wala area sabse shaant hota h like bhai peaceful}

That ache settled in my chest… the weight of finality. But just as I began to let go, she stopped.

Mid-step.

Her voice was quiet, but steady.

“Mujhe waqt chahiye, Shaurya. Tum ek raat mein sab theek nahi kar sakte. Main bhi nahi.”

I nodded, heart heavy but… hopeful.

“Main intezaar kar lunga, Ruhi. Bas tum laut aana.”

“Forget it… let me just go for now,” she said, her voice tight, and turned away stepping into the library without looking back.

This time, I didn’t follow.

I just stood there.

Waiting.

Outside.

Watching people pass by, watching time pass by, watching my own thoughts eat me alive.

—---

Half an hour crawled by before I finally walked in two cups of coffee in one hand, a warm burrito in the other.

I knew she hadn’t eaten again. She always skipped lunch when she was upset.

But as I entered, I saw her at the far end of the table… asleep.

Head resting on her folded arms. Breathing soft and even, like the world had finally given her a break.

I walked closer quietly. And that’s when I saw them.

The dried tear stains clinging to her cheeks like silent confessions.

God.

Something about them twisted something deep inside me.

I reached out and, gently, wiped them away with my thumb.

Why do your tears always hurt more than my own guilt, Ruhi?

I placed the food beside her without a word.

Then sat next to her, just… watching. Memorizing the rise and fall of her breath.

The way her lashes trembled. The tiny wrinkle between her brows that meant a headache was coming.

Slowly, I reached out, combing my fingers through her hair to tuck the strands away from her face.

And then, with the same gentleness I once used to love her I began to massage her temples.

Her body relaxed. Just a little. And for one fragile moment, it felt like we were okay again.

Like nothing had shattered. Like maybe… maybe we still belonged.
But nothing gold stays.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the security guards making their rounds checking aisles, whispering into walkie-talkies.

My little pocket of stolen peace was ending.

I took off my jacket and carefully draped it over her shoulders.

One last look.

One last touch.

And then… I walked away.

Leaving behind coffee, burritos…And a part of me that still believed maybe, just maybe….she might come back.
.
.
.

Hello mere nanhe munhe rahi log wassup..... Okay ur author trying to be cool bt i know I m not.....

Anyway filmy dramatic emotional part pard ke mood off kr lia? (Haan bolna na bhi hua toh, taki mein khush ho jau ki meri story telling sexy h🤣)

Now let's strt with my choti alia...bdi dhmaka ki story pdte h....aaj woh konsi kaand krne wali h check kro 🤣

I did go to college, but man… my cold allergy decided to go full traitor mode.

The sneezing started atchu atchu non-stop. My nose was leaking, eyes all watery, and I was basically a walking tissue.

And as if that wasn’t enough, I had to run into that idiotic, self-obsessed, overconfident langur.

Yes, I’m talking about him the one whose book and jacket I totally ruined and still haven’t paid compensation for. And no, I don’t plan to either.

Uski shakl dekh ke already mood off hogyi thi, aur din toh full kharab ho hi gaya.

Chhodo uski baatein.

I came home, opened the door and tossed my bag straight into the living room like I was done with life.

Walked directly to my bedroom.

The t-shirt I wore last night was still lying there. I blacked out the curtains, stripped off my clothes, threw on the old t-shirt, and boom  I just collapsed on the bed.

Hugged my 7-foot-long body pillow like a clingy baby and closed my eyes.

I was just about to fall asleep when...

Ta..da….

Nature’s emergency call.

Susu agyi.

Ugh, of course.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, came back sneezing again like a damn fire brigade water pipe.

Took my allergy pills and crawled back into bed like a defeated warrior.

At this point, duniya idhar ki udhar ho jaye, mujhe sirf neend chahiye.

Period.

Facts.

—--

I woke up around 1:45 AM.

Bhookh lagi mujhe.

I stood up, wore my pajamas, and went to the kitchen…

"Kisi ka saar khane se pait toh bharega nahi, khana hi khana padega," I swalla’d to myself.

I opened the cabinets nothing. Zero. Nada. Turns out I had totally forgotten to do grocery shopping, and  jo tha, woh mujhe bilkul nahi khana tha.

So I called for takeaway.

Ordered crispy chicken legs, shawarma, and fries. Full-on feast mode unlocked.

Yeaahh!

“Aaj ki party meri taraf se!” I sang after placing the order.

Aaj dono chudail nahi hain, So, blissful peace and unrestricted non-veg indulgence.

No side-eyes. No lectures. Just me and my mera khana.

I thought I’d make some chai while waiting.

But God knows why it turned out terrible. Like, next-level bad.

I stared at the cup and sighed.

Zindagi footi ho toh chai bhi saath chhod deti hai, I guess.

Feeling betrayed, I chugged a glass of water instead and declared to myself,

“That’s it. I’m going on a diet. I’ll lose weight. I’ll glow. I’ll slay.”

Meanwhile, I was pacing across the room like a hungry zombie waiting for her delivery.

I put my phone on charge, plugged in my headphones everything set.

Once the food arrives, I’m gonna eat like royalty and then dive into my game.

Midnight cravings?

Conquered.

—---

The food finally arrived.

I grabbed everything, sat cross-legged on the floor like it was a royal feast, and devoured it all while watching Shinchan.

Yes, I know you shouldn't watch screens while eating.

But hello?

I wasn’t watching TV. I was watching on my iPad, okay?

Same-same but different.

Anyway, that's just me justifying my impulsive choices, because I got bored waiting for the food and needed a distraction.

After I was done demolishing the crispy chicken, shawarma, and fries like an absolute savage, I cleaned up the battlefield…aka my food mess…and marched back to my bed.

With all the grace of a drama queen, I jumped onto it like it was a trampoline, landing face-first into my blanket.

Then I reached over, unplugged my phone and headphones, ready to call it a night... or maybe pull an all-nighter.

Who knows?

—--

Quick summary:

I’m talking about the PUBG game. If you already know this, feel free to move on. But if you don’t, listen carefully.

The game is basically a warzone  you have to eliminate enemies. That much, I assume you already know.

Some key terms to understand:

Lobby: This is the main menu where the game starts.

Gameplay: Once the match starts, you get around 2 minutes to decide whether you want to continue playing or exit.

Before the plane takes off:

If you’re planning to play, just wait for the plane to take off.

If not, exit the game before the plane takes off.

Because if you leave the match after the plane has taken off, your match points will be deducted.

Maps and Locations:

The flight takes you over the map, and you have to jump and land at your preferred location.

Think of it like this — you’re on a plane and you randomly jump over a state like UP, Bihar, Haryana, Gujarat, etc.

Similarly, in the game, there are places with specific names like Pochinki, Rozhok, Mylta Power, Mylta, School, and so on. You choose where you want to drop based on your strategy.

I hope itna samjh agya hoga let's start

..........

The match started.

Random players, zero coordination. Within minutes, two of our teammates rage quit before the match start.

Just like that, our clean 4v4 turned into a messy 2v4.

Now it was just me and one other rando, holding the fort against a full squad.

I sat there, waiting.

The plane had already taken off. The map was loading, and it was just the two of us left.

Was he going to back out too? I hesitated for a second, then opened my mic.

"Are you leaving too?" My voice cut through the game silence, calm but lowkey challenging.

No response. Just the hum of the plane engines in-game.

Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

"Chhodo. Main akeli kaafi hoon. Marna hai toh marungi, warna next match shuru," I said out loud, completely forgetting that my mic was still on.

“Yeah, looking forward to your skills,” came a reply.

His voice? Way too cute. Like a teenager who hadn’t hit puberty yet.

Hehe… just kidding, I laughed to myself.

But now I was fired up.

No backing down.

I had to show him my pro skills.

“Haayee Allah, izzat bacha lena meri. Waise hi itna bol diya hai… ab naak rakh lena,” I prayed dramatically, completely unaware that my mic was still on.

I heard him chuckle in my earphones.

“Let’s see,” he said.

We dropped at Pochinki. Guns loaded, mindset focused.

We went on a rampage cleared half of Pochinki like bosses.

Okay fine, he cleared more than me, but still, I held my ground.

Just as I was about to flex my kills boom.

Sniped. Knocked down.

“UWAAAHH! Bacha lo mujhe! I promise, I won’t get knocked again!” I cried into the mic like a full-on tragedy.

“Awwle awwle,” he replied, throwing smoke around me before reviving me like a true teammate.

“Thank you, thank you!” I gasped.

“Dhyan se ab… health kar lo,” he said calmly.

I got up, healed, and was just about to take cover behind a house when boom again.

Knocked. AGAIN.

“Told you to be careful…” he said, coming to revive me once more.

“Arre yeh meri kya galti hai?! This tharki camper wasn’t taking his eyes off me!” I said in pure frustration.

He sniped the camper clean.

I healed again, breathing a little easier this time.

“All done,” I said, wiping the actual sweat off my forehead.

“How many kills?” he asked.

“Four. Only,” I muttered, pretending not to be embarrassed.

“Much more than I expected,” he said casually.

I felt embarrassed.

“What about you?” I asked.

“12 kills,” he replied, like it was no big deal.

I blinked.

TWELVE?!

“Tum toh kaafi pro nikle,” I said, mock dramatic. “Bas ab toh chicken dinner nikaal do iss match pe.”

“Let’s see,” he replied, cool and calm, like he’d done this a hundred times.

But now it wasn’t just a game anymore this had turned into a mission.

Team-up with the mystery soft-voiced killer?

And just like that…

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner.

The screen flashed those golden words and I sat there, wide-eyed, a victorious grin slowly spreading across my face.

We did it.

WE ACTUALLY DID IT.

7 kills. Mine.

24 kills. His.

“Broooo,” I muttered under my breath, “ye banda banda kam, machine zyada lagta hai.”

The scoreboard popped up and I stared at his stats like I was reading a cheat code.

24 kills?!

HOW?!

I took a screenshot.

I grabbed the mic.

“Okay okay, respect mil gaya tumhe. You carried like a beast.”

He laughed.

“Told you… let’s see.”

I rolled my eyes, still smiling.

“Next time I’m carrying. You just wait.”

“Looking forward to that,” he replied with a smirk in his voice.

We came back to the lobby.

My mind was already in chaos should I ask him for another match or not?

But before I could overthink more, a notification popped up.

Friend Request: Batman

Seconds later, his message followed "Wanna play more or leaving?"

I smiled.

This guy doesn’t waste time, huh?

“Yup! Woh toh first match thi… abhi toh aur khelenge,” I replied confidently.

“Okay then. Let’s play together,” he said.

“Yup, lucky you. You’ve got a pro player in your team now,” I teased.

“Nice. Then I’ll sit back and let you carry,” he laughed.

The match started.

And just like that, it wasn’t just about the game anymore it was about the company.

The next match started.

We were in the waiting zone, all geared up, standing around for the plane to take off.

I sighed dramatically into the mic.

“Bhai, mujhe sikhha do khelna,” I said, teasing batman, half serious.

Before he could even reply, two random teammates jumped in, their voices laced with full cringe flirt-mode.

“Hum sikha dein kya, madam?” one of them said with that forced fake charm.

I rolled my eyes so hard, I almost saw the back of my skull.

“Khud toh sikh lo pehle… phir dusron ko sikhana,” I shot back, sharp and smooth.

Batman burst out laughing.

“Savage,” he said, clearly entertained.

I smirked, adjusting my headset like a boss.

Don’t mess with me…I came to play.

“Auto-matching off rakhein next match pe?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Barely a few seconds into the waiting area, they started with the usual cringe.

At first, it was subtle. But then came the mockery.

“Pick-me girl spotted,” one sneered.

Words that should never be said.

Slurs. Abuses. The R-word.

(Based on author life experience bohot hua h mere sth yeh cheez toh socha share krdu ki meri tarah heroine bn ne na jana... Female gamer ko bohot galliyan padti h. Kch ldko ke male ego hurt ho jte h)

I went silent for a moment. My fingers clenched around the phone. My heart pounded not out of fear, but rage.

Before I could say anything, Batman’s voice came in, firm and cold

“Watch your mouth.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Who even are you, her bodyguard?” one of them scoffed.

“I don’t need to be,” he said calmly. “Just not a trash human like you.”

I exhaled slowly, calming the storm brewing inside me.

“I can speak for myself, but thanks for the backup,” I said, voice steady.

Then I turned on my mic fully.

“You think abusing someone makes you powerful? Cute. Must be hard, living with such low standards.”

And then came the gaaliyan.

Maa-behen ki gaaliyan.

Disgusting, personal, unforgivable.

They started throwing shade again, mocking me with nasty comments. But then, one of them crossed the line completely.

“Tere ghar aake teri maa ke saath…”

I didn’t let him finish. My mic was on.

My blood boiled.

“Kyu? Khud ki maa nahi bachi kya, jo meri maa pe utar raha hai?”

For a second, I just froze.

Not out of fear but sheer disbelief. This is what people turn into behind a mic?

I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening on the screen.

The situation escalated. Their words turned more aggressive, filthier.

But I didn’t back down.

“You think abusing women makes you cool? Bro, you're not even original. Just another keyboard coward hiding behind a mic.”

Batman spoke up, his voice low and cold with anger.

“Reported. Both of you. Get ready to be banned.“People like you are the reason this game turns toxic,” he added, no humor left in his tone.

I took a deep breath, heart still pounding.

“Let’s leave the match,” he said. “Not worth it.”

We both hit exit.

......

Back in the lobby, the screen was calm. But inside, a storm had passed.

We were back in the lobby.

The bright game screen felt oddly dull after what just happened.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice lower than before gentler.

I let out a small laugh, more tired than amused.

“Yup, I’m good. Roz ka hai mera yeh... don’t worry.”

But there was a beat of silence between us. Like he knew I wasn’t really fine, and I knew he wouldn’t push.

“Still,” he said after a pause, “shouldn’t have to be.”

My screen flickered as I stared at the character menu, the background music still playing like nothing happened.

“That’s the thing,” I said, my voice softer now. “You get used to it. And that’s the worst part.”

“I hate that you’re used to it,” he replied.

Something in his tone genuine, not performative made my chest ache a little.

“Anyway,” I said, trying to lift the air again, “next time, I’ll roast them with better comebacks. Need to upgrade my ‘trash talk’ loadout.”

He chuckled, finally. “Deal. I’ll bring the smokes, you bring the sass.”

“Kheloge?” he asked, his voice back to its usual playful calm.

I didn’t hesitate this time.

“Let’s go,” I said, full energy back in my tone.

It wasn’t just about the game anymore. It was about reclaiming the vibe.

My fingers hovered over the screen, ready.

—--

The game went on… and on… until the sky outside my window began to shift from black to blue.

5:03 AM.

Another match ended.

Another victory.

Another round of inside jokes, half-serious strategies, and random late-night rambling.

“Damn, it’s morning already,” I mumbled, stretching my fingers.

“Yup,” he said, a yawn in his voice.

“Time flies when you’re carrying a noob.”

“Excuse you?” I scoffed. “I had 8 kills last match.”

He chuckled softly, “Okay okay, not bad… for a part-time gamer, full-time drama queen.”

"Chalo bye," I said, stretching my arms with a lazy smile. "Fajr ki namaz padh lu iss se pehle sunrise ho jaye."

"Wait… wait!" he called out quickly.

"Jaldi bolo, kya hua?" I asked, half-laughing.

"Raat ko kheleoge?" he asked, his tone suddenly softer.

"Haan, shayad. Maybe din mein bhi agar time mila toh," I replied casually, already wrapping my dupatta around my head.

"Insta ID hai?"

"Yup, wait let me send you my username."

I sent him that one.

The fake-but-real waali. The one where I’m actually active, scrolling reels, sending dumb memes to my chudails, and occasionally posting stories that make no sense.

He saw it.

"Nice. Cute handle," he said.

"Thanks, I'm a full-time drama queen there too," I winked, even though he couldn’t see it.

"Looking forward to it," he replied.

"Okayyy now really going. Allah Hafiz," I said.

"Allah Hafiz," he replied, and for some reason… it sounded warmer than usual.

—--

I offered my Fajr prayer in quiet stillness, the world outside barely awake.

After praying, I made myself a cup of hot chocolate because chai didn’t match the mood.

Today felt like a hot chocolate kind of morning.

With the warm mug in my hands, I sat by the window for a moment, letting the steam kiss my face, eyes heavy but mind strangely awake.

There was no point sleeping now classes would start by 8 anyway.

So I pulled out my books, wrapped myself in a shawl, and sat down to

study.

Eyes on the page…

Mind slightly distracted.

Maybe by the game. Maybe by the voice from the game.

Maybe by the fact that I just shared my “secret” Insta with a stranger who somehow felt less like one.

.......

Kaisi thi ch?

Konsa fav scenes tha?

Konsi part psnd aya aaj?

Next ch pr kiski pov dalu?

(Kher mein toh apne hisab se krungi bt dekhte h agr match ho jye apna soch toh mza ajyega🤭)