Aarvika’s POV
I reached college still half-tired, the entire scooty incident playing on repeat in my mind like a loop I couldn’t pause. My thoughts were loud, but the classroom louder — except my seat, my tiny escape world.
I slumped down and tossed my bag on the desk. The bench behind me was still empty. I tapped my pen against the last page of my notebook, doodling random lines that slowly turned into a battlefield.
Arya, sword raised. Veer, surprised. The war, the sand, the fire.
The real world faded as I slipped into hers.
Ms. Aarvika Singh , ur pen is moving too fast i think u are listening very attentively, yaha pr aake smjhana chahengi... professer taunted me as he saw i was scribbling in my notebook.
I straightened up my posture , " uhmm..sirrr..."
Focus on the class , professer commanded and started teaching again.
“Writer ji , again got lost in ur epic fantasy world ".
I blinked and looked at my friend beside me, smirking.
Before I could retort, my phone buzzed:
Wattpad Reminder: 2 days left to update your story.
I cursed under my breath. “Aree yaaaar!”
I hadn’t even written that war scene. I hadn’t even figured out what will she say to king . I hadn’t even—
The classroom door clicked open.
Kiaan walked in.
My heart did a full cartwheel.
There he was — casually cool, art file in hand, eyes slightly sleepy yet dreamy. He walked right past our bench, throwing a soft smile.
Yes Kiaan , is anything up ? Professer asked .
My friend elbowed me. “Still crushing on Artist Bhaiya?”
I glared but my cheeks gave me away.
____
I waited a little while, tapping my foot. “Kahan mar gayi? Itni der se wait kar rahi hoon,” I muttered.
Just then, she walked in —
Maahira Arora, my best friend, hand raised like she was Miss Universe greeting fans.
She plopped behind me, and I immediately turned.
“Aree haath mein bandage?ab konsa panga kiya tune ?”
"Long story" She rolled her eyes. “Arre, tu pehle yeh bata... tere kapdon pe itni mitti kyun hai?”
I dramatically flipped my hair. “Bas choti si accident thi. Ek aadmi tha… nahi, ek raakshas... usne meri bechari scooty ko thok diya.”
“Phir kya kiya tumne, oh brave writer?” Maahira teased.
“Main chillaayi, full public mein drama hua, and the best part? He had the audacity to act innocent.”
“Poor guy,” she muttered, suppressing a laugh.
I threw my pen at her. “Main victim hoon yahan!”
Maahira raised her hands. “Accha baba! Victim sahiba, paani milega kya?”
“Mil jaayega, maro mat,” I turned to get my bottle—
But paused.
My eyes widened.
The keychain. Gone.
The little silver one with a tiny compass inside. The last gift from Papa.
My hand froze on my bag.
“Maahi… keychain… woh…” I turned to her, panic rising.
She saw my face and instantly calmed herself. “Hey… breathe. We’ll find it, okay?”
She pulled out her phone and started calling someone. After a pause, she looked up and asked, “Was it important?”
My voice dropped. “It was from Papa. On my last birthday with him.”
She placed her hand gently on mine. “We’ll find it, Aru. Promise.”
Her call ended, and she sighed. “Scooty stand pe nahi tha. Maybe someone picked it.”
My heart sank.
Later that day, I sat with my friends in the canteen.
I couldn’t focus.
“Still stuck with the twist?” someone asked.
I nodded. “War scene likhna tha… kidnapping twist… nothing’s clicking.”
One of them chuckled. “Then just enter the story and fix it yourself.”
I smiled, trying to play along. “I wish…”
But truth be told, my head wasn’t in Arya’s world today. Not when a real piece of me was missing.
---
Evening – At Home
I stepped inside, dragging my bag. Ma was in the kitchen, and like always, she noticed instantly.
“Aarvika, sab theek hai na?”
“Haan, thak gayi hoon bas,” I said faintly.
She came to me. “Kya hua?”
I hesitated. “Papa ka diya keychain… kho gaya.”
Her face softened. “Chhoti cheezein kabhi kabhi sabse zyada zaroori hoti hain. But beta, cheezein nahi, yaadein sambhalti hain.”
“But I don’t want to let go,” I whispered.
She cupped my face. “Letting go ka matlab bhool jaana nahi hota… kabhi kabhi iska matlab hota hai ek nayi jagah dena… jahan dard kam ho, aur pyaar utna hi gehra.”
I swallowed my tears and nodded. “Main thoda rest karti hoon.”
“Thik hai. Paneer banaya hai aaj, tera favourite.”
I gave her a half smile and went to my room.
_____
Aarvika sits curled up on her bed, staring blankly at her phone screen. Her eyes drift to the empty spot on her bag where her father's keychain once hung. She sighs.
Just then, there’s a knock on the door.
Nyra (peeking in with a smile): “Madam, aapke bina khana poison lag raha hai — aaiye kripya apne fans ko darshan dijiye!”
Aarvika doesn’t laugh. Just a half-smile.
Nyra (sits beside her, softer now): “Mumma told me…”
Aarvika stays quiet.
Nyra: “That keychain meant a lot, I know. But… you know what mumma said? Maybe papa thought it’s time for you to stop holding onto things and start writing your own story.”
Aarvika (whispers): “But I wasn’t ready to let go…”
Nyra: “Who says you have to? Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means making space — for something new, maybe better.”
Aarvika looks at her, finally blinking away the tears.
Aarvika (soft chuckle): “Kabhi kabhi tu sach mein chhoti nahi lagti…”
Nyra (grinning): “Obviously. I’m the cooler, smarter one.”
They both laugh a little.
Nyra (standing up): “Now chalo. Come down before Mumma starts her ‘drama queen ko upar hi khila dete hain’ monologue.”
Aarvika finally gets up, a little more at peace.
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