The days passed in a blur. The farewell had consumed their every waking thought, and now, finally, it had arrived.

The farewell was being held at a four-star hotel . Everyone was excited. Students began trickling in by early afternoon, long before the scheduled time, unable to contain their nerves.

They reached the venue in groups to check for last minute preparations.

Some students were checking the decorations, adjusting flower arrangements that were already perfect. Others were hovering near the catering counters, tasting menu dishes under the pretense of "quality control." A small group stood by the lighting panel, arguing about whether the spotlights should be gold or white. And in every corner, there were students doing nothing at all just gossiping, clicking pictures, posing against walls .

"Yahan nahi, us side light kam hai," someone shouted.

(Not here, that corner, the light is dim).

"Bhai, ye table yaha pe mat rakh"

(Don't kept the table here).

"Yaha par flowers kyu nahi lagaye abhi tak"

(Why haven't anyone planted flowers here yet?)

The afternoon melted into evening. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Around 6 PM, everyone retreat to their assigned rooms to get ready. The girls had been allotted three adjoining rooms on the second floor; the boys had two rooms on the same corridor.

The room where Priyanka, Samara, and Arohi were getting ready was a battlefield of beauty.

Makeup kits lay open on every available surface, the bed, the dresser, even the floor. The air smelled of hairspray and perfume . One girl was frantically asking for a blusher brush, Another was on her knees, searching under the bed for a missing hair clip. A third was standing in front of a girl who sat patiently on a chair, doing her eyeliner with the focus of a surgeon.

And then there were the ones who didn't wear makeup at all already dressed in their sarees, draped perfectly, sitting on the couch and scrolling through their phones, occasionally looking up to laugh at the chaos around them.

Samara, Priyanka, and Arohi had chosen matching sarees , the same design, the same shimmering black blouse, but different base colors. Samara's was deep blue, Priyanka's was black and Arohi's was red.

"Tum dono bohot achi lag rahi ho," Priyanka said, stepping back to admire her own work on Arohi's saree.

(You both are looking beautiful).

"You too". Not more than you , Aru and Sam said at the same time and arohi gesture a flying kiss to her.

Across the corridor, the boys' rooms were a different kind of chaos less screaming, more silent panic. Aryan stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his red shirt. He had paired it with black pants simple, sharp, effective. Veer lounged on the bed in his black shirt and black pants, already ready, already bored.

"Tu ready ho gaya?" Aryan asked, not looking away from his reflection.

(Are you ready?)

"Main to 7 baje se ready tha," Veer said. "Tum logon ko lagta hai bas ladkiyon ko time lagta hai. Par tum .."

(I was ready till 7, you all think that only girls take time but you...).

"Chup kar."

(Shut up).

Veer laughed and tossed a pillow at him. Aryan caught it without looking.

Around 8 PM, The juniors had gathered in the hallway outside to welcome their seniors. The music had been queued. The lights had been dimmed to a warm.

Arjun, a junior boy who had been elected as the host for the evening, stood at the door, peeking through the small glass window into the ballroom.

"Sab set hai?" someone whispered.

(Is everything set?).

"Yes, all set".

After almost 15-20 minutes, The doors to the ballroom were pulled open wide. And the juniors straightened their backs, raised their smiles, and prepared to welcome their seniors.

The girls came first, gowns trailing behind them like whispers, fabrics shimmering under the golden lights. They looked beautiful, glamorous . Then came the boys, sharp in their well-fitted suits , hair styled with just the right amount of carelessness. Some walked with confidence, others with nervous smiles, but all of them looking handsome.

Juniors stepped forward to greet them with a welcome drink a single red rose, still fresh with droplets of water on its petals. The seniors accepted them with wide smiles.

Soon, the farewell began in full swing.

The stage, which had sat empty and waiting all evening, came alive. Juniors performed for their seniors. A group of three girls danced to a medley of Bollywood hits with full of energy. A boy with a guitar sat on a stool and sang a soft, melancholic song . Then came the comedy , a group of juniors performed a skit, doing spot-on mimicry of some seniors and even a few teachers. The hall hauled with laughter. echoing off the chandeliers and high ceilings.

Time slipped away like water through open fingers.

The announcement came around 10 PM for dinner . The juniors gently lead the seniors toward the dining area, where a buffet had been laid out in an adjoining hall. The spread was magnificent pure vegetarian.

Students piled their plates high and found corners to sit , some on chairs, some on couches and some are standing with their group.

After dinner, the DJ cranked the volume up.

The lights in the ballroom dimmed to a pulsing mix of blue and purple. The bass thrummed through the floor, vibrating up through everyone's feet. The dance floor filled within seconds.

Priyanka dragged Arohi onto the floor, both of them laughing, their sarees swirling around their ankles. Samara followed more hesitantly, but Priyanka grabbed her wrist and pulled her in.

Veer and Aryan joined soon after, forming a tight circle with the girls, dancing like no one was watching even though everyone was.

After some bollywood banger , a slow song played, and the energy shifted. Couples formed, drifted apart, reformed. Arohi and priyanka dance with each other while samara left with veer . A girl approach aryan to dance, Aryan without missing a beat held her hand and both of them started dancing.

From the corner, Samara's eyes kept falling on Aryan again and again, unwillingly, helplessly. And seeing him with some other girl, her heart ached. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but before anyone could see, she quickly wiped them away.

She turned her face away, pretending to be busy with her phone, but her hands were trembling.

why did it hurt so much?

You have no right to feel this way, Samara, she told herself. He's just a friend. He's always been just a friend.

But her heart wasn't listening.

And on the dance floor , completely unaware of the storm he had unknowingly stirred, Aryan laughed at something the girl said , nd Samara felt another crack form in the wall she had so carefully built around herself.

By 11 pm , most of the students had left.

Only a handful of students remained mostly boys, lingering near the exit, reluctant to let the night end. Their voices were lower now, tired but happy.

The five of them, Aryan, Samara, Priyanka, Arohi, and Veer gathered their things. Arohi's father had offered to pick them up. He was on his way.

They walked toward the main entrance of the hotel. Their footsteps echoed softly. The air outside the ballroom was cooler, quieter.

They were almost at the revolving glass doors when,

"Arohi"

A voice rang out from behind them.

Arohi halted in her steps.

The others stopped too, turning around in confusion. Priyanka looked at Arohi, then past her. Veer frowned. Aryan's eyebrows lifted .

They turned around and saw Akash.

He was standing a few feet away, alone, his hands slightly trembling at his sides. His eyes were fixed on only one person Arohi , ignoring everyone else in the corridor as if they had simply melted into the background.

He stepped forward, his gaze never leaving her.

"Can we talk alone for a minute please?" he asked, his voice quieter than they had ever heard it. He looked at Arohi first, then briefly at her friends a silent plea in his eyes.

The five of them exchanged glances.

"Only if Arohi wants," Veer said finally, his voice even. They all turned to Arohi for her answer.

She looked at Akash. Then at her friends. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, blinking once, twice, to assure them she was fine.

One by one, they walked toward the glass doors, leaving the two of them alone in the long, empty corridor.

The echo of their footsteps faded.

"What do you want to say, Akash?" Arohi asked as soon as her friends disappeared from sight.

Akash looked around. The corridor was empty. No staff. No stray students. Just the two of them, standing under the soft glow of the wall sconces.

And then he bent down on one knee.

Arohi's mouth fell open. Her hand flew to her chest.

"Wh... what are you doing, Akash? Please get up!" she panicked, her head whipping left and right to check if anyone was watching. But No one was.

"Wait, Arohi. Please," he said, looking up at her. His voice was soft but firm. He didn't stand. "Please let me say what I couldn't say in these five years."

Arohi stopped fidgeting. She stopped looking around. Her eyes, wide and uncertain, finally settled on his face.

"You know," he began, "when I got admitted to school in class 7th, I was scared as hell. Thinking how will I manage? I was very introvert & didn't talk much. Didn't have friends." He swallowed. "I was searching for my class. Lost. Completely lost. And then I saw you."

He paused, as if the memory was still too bright to look at directly.

"You were in 6th class. Going to fill your water bottle with Priyanka and Samara. And believe me from that day, you attracted me. The way no one else ever did. Without doing anything. Just by being there."

Arohi's lips parted, but no sound came out.

"I stopped you. Asked you for my class . And you didn't just help , you walked with me. All the way to my class. So I wouldn't get lost." His voice cracked slightly.

"I thought it was just a mere attraction. Something that would fade. But instead of fading, it grew. Every time I saw even a glimpse of you. Every time I heard your voice from across the hallway."

He looked down at his own hands for a moment, then back up at her.

"I know you don't feel anything for me. And that's okay. I will never force you. but I wanted to say all this from long time , I wanted to pour my heart out before its too late and I just want you to give me a chance."

Arohi was rooted to her spot. She hadn't moved an inch. Her eyes wide, vulnerable, completely unguarded.

Seeing her shocked face, Akash gently reached for her hand. He didn't grab. He didn't pull. He simply held her little finger lightly, tentatively and laced them with his own. The touch seemed to unlock something in her, pulling her out of her frozen trance.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked.

The words hung in the air between them, delicate as glass.

Arohi opened her mouth. Closed it. Her gaze dropped to their intertwined fingers, then rose back to his face. Something flickered in her expression hesitation. Not rejection. Just hesitation.

Akash saw it. And instead of pushing, he smiled softly.

"If you're confused, you can take your time," he said gently. "You can give me your answer another day. After thinking properly."

He stood up slowly, releasing her fingers. His hand slipped into his pants pocket and emerged with a small, folded piece of paper ,a chit with small box .

"It's my number," he said, showing her piece of paper , and " This is for a you , a small gift and If your answer is yes then please wear it next time we meet", he said placing it gently into her palm and closing her fingers around it.

"If your answer is yes, you can call or message me. But if your answer is no..." He paused, his smile wavering for just a fraction of a second before he steadied it. "Then don't call or message. And you can tear this chit and throw the gift , I won't ask again."

He sighed softly not with sadness, but with the quiet relief of a man who had finally lifted a weight he had been carrying for five years.

"Now, go. Your friends are waiting outside."

He reached out one last time and patted her cheek light, brief. Then he stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets, and gave her a small nod.

Arohi didn't say anything.

She turned and walked toward the glass doors.

When Arohi stepped out of the revolving glass doors, the night air hit her face cooler now.

Her face was still frozen in that same stunned expression lips slightly parted, eyes wide, cheeks flushed with something that could have been panic or could have been something else entirely. The small chit was crushed in her palm.

Her friends saw her coming ,but before any of them could ask a single question,

A loud, impatient horn shattered the silence.

They all jumped and look behind to see Mr. Saxena , Arohi's father has arrived.

"Chalo, chalo, jaldi karo," he called out, waving a hand. " it's really late".

(Comeon fast).

The five of them scrambled toward the car. Veer claimed the passenger seat hirriedly, the remaining four squeezed into the backseat.

"Shift ho na, meri taraf jagah nahi hai" Priyanka grumbled, elbowing Aryan in the ribs.

(Shift, I Don't have space here).

"jagah? Tumne poori seat le rakhi hai," Aryan shot back, pushing back.

(Space, You took all the seat).

"Bhai, shaanti se baitho. Main fas gayi hoon beech mein," Samara complained, wedged between Arohi and Priyanka.

(Sit quietly please, I am stuck in between ).

Mr. Saxena was watching through the rearview mirror, his mustache twitching with barely suppressed amusement. He shook his head slowly and muttered under his breath, "Bade ho gaye hain magar bachpana nahi jayega inka."

The car pulled away from the hotel , with a gentle lurch.

Arohi turned her head.

Through the back window, she saw him.

Akash was still standing there, just outside the hotel entrance. His hands were back in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched against the night chill. The golden light from the lobby spilled out behind him, framing his silhouette.

He was looking in her direction.

She kept watching until the car turned a corner and the hotel disappeared from view. Until Akash's figure was swallowed by the darkness and the buildings and the endless, indifferent city.

Then she turned back around.

Her hand was still clenched around the chit and the box . She hadn't torn it. She hadn't thrown it away.

She slipped it quietly into her clutch, hidden between her phone and her lip balm, where no one could see.

The car drove on through the sleeping city, carrying them all home.

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

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