Chapter 48: 43| The Breakup Adventure

(this is going to be a really long chapter as I've tried to add a lot of things in it.. please bear with me 😭😭)

(And guys please do comment a lot on this chapter 😭)

The dark peaceful sky, the twinkling of the celestial bodies and the quiet of night is a perfect scenario for a romantic couple. I believe me and Ayan could sneak on a roof sometimes and have a session of deep talks if that idiot decides to do something other than teasing and flirting. I won't mind if......

"SOMEBODY PLEASE SAVE MEE!!!"

"Hoor stop screaming unless you want the warden to tie this same dupatta around our necks and choke us until we're dead" I shriek clutching the end of my dupatta.

Hoorain looks at us with wide, tear-filled eyes, clutching the makeshift dupatta rope as if it's alive and trying to kill her. "I think I'm going to faint."

"Fainting?" Maha retorts, adjusting her own dupatta with a flourish like she's a professional escape artist. "Hoor you just had a breakup fainting means "you're carrying his love with you"" all of us chuckle at that.

Did I mention what we're up to? No? Well, let me break it down: we're on the roof of our hostel, attempting to sneak out by using dupattas tied together as a rope. A genius plan, courtesy of Ayra, who insists this is the safest option.

Safe, my foot.

I'm starting to think Ayra has no idea what the word safe actually means. I should buy her a dictionary for her next birthday.

"This pipe doesn't look sturdy," I mumble, eyeing the rusted metal with suspicion. "It's even rusted"

"Sorry Nayu" Ayra says, waving me off. "I'll make sure to order a brand new pipe the next time we're planning to sneak out"

"Ah shut up ok" I echo, incredulous. "I'm just wondering if my dad caught us we're..."

"Dead" all of them finish the sentence for me.

Hoorain lets out another whimper, clutching the rope like it's the only thing keeping her alive. "I'm going to die. I can feel it. My ancestors are calling me."

"You won't die!" Maha snaps, already halfway down the rope. "Unless you keep screaming like that, in which case the warden will kill us."

(⁠๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑⁠)

Maha reaches the ground first, landing with a triumphant whoop. "See? It's easy."

"Easy for you," I mutter. "You're half monkey."

Ayra grins at me, gesturing toward the rope. "Your turn, Naya."

I glare at her. "Why not you?"

"Because I'm the mastermind," she replies smugly. "The mastermind goes last."

"More like the mastermind of chaos," I mutter, grabbing the rope. "If I die, I'm haunting all of you."

"Noted," Ayra says, smirking.

Sliding down a dupatta rope is not as glamorous as it sounds. My hands burn from the friction, and the dupatta feels like it's about to snap any second. I'm pretty sure I've recited every holy verse I remember by now.

"Don't look down!" Ayra shouts from above.

So, of course, I look down.

Big mistake.

The ground seems miles away, and my legs turn to jelly. "I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die."

"You're not going to die!" Maha yells from below. "Just move your legs faster!"

"I hate all of you," I mutter, finally landing on the ground with a thud. My legs feel like spaghetti, and I'm pretty sure my dignity is lying somewhere up on that roof.

Next up is Hoorain, who looks like she's on the verge of tears. "I can't do it," she whimpers. "I'll fall and break every bone in my body."

"Stop being dramatic," Ayra says, rolling her eyes. "Just think of it as an adventure."

"Adventure?" Hoorain shrieks. "This isn't an adventure. This is a death sentence!"

"Would you prefer the stairs?" Maha calls out. "Where the warden is patrolling?"

That seems to do the trick. Hoorain grabs the rope with trembling hands and starts inching her way down, muttering prayers under her breath.

Finally, it's Ayra's turn. She descends with the confidence of someone who's done this a hundred times, landing with a flourish. She brushes off her dupatta like she's just finished a performance.

"See? Easy," she says, smirking.

I glare at her. "Next time, we're taking the stairs."

"No way," Maha replies, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "That's what normal people do"

As we walk away, laughing and bickering, I can't help but smile. These girls may be insane, but they're my kind of insane.

Even if they never see it they are all that I need.

The silent club is unlike anything I've ever experienced. The room is dimly lit, with neon lights streaking across the walls and floors, pulsating in sync with the silent rhythm of the night. There's a kaleidoscope of colors—pink, blue, green—painting the space in a surreal glow. Everyone's wearing headphones, lost in their own world of music, yet collectively dancing like they're part of the same symphony. It's electrifying and oddly intimate.

As always we four manage to get into new shit every time and end up enjoying every single time.

As soon as we enter, Maha immediately grabs a pair of headphones and slips them on, spinning around dramatically. "This is IT! This was missing in our adventure bingo card" she declares, striking a pose that has the group bursting into laughter.

I roll my eyes, the self-appointed grumpy mother of the group, but a smile tugs at my lips. "Maha, you've been here for exactly ten seconds. Can you calm down?"

"Calm?" Maha gasps, as if she was just insulted her entire existence. "Ayra, this is freedom. This is art. This is—"

"This is Maha being Maha," Hoorain interrupts, chuckling.

We all slip on our headphones, and almost instantly, the iconic beats of "The Breakup Song" from Ae Dil Hai Mushkil pump into my ears. It's like the world outside vanishes, and the music becomes our heartbeat. The rhythm is infectious, and before I know it, I'm nodding along, my feet tapping to the beat.

Maha is already in full performance mode, dramatically lip-syncing to the lyrics while flinging her hand around like she's in a Bollywood music video. She grabs Hoorain's hand, pulling her into the spotlight.

"Come on, Hoorain! This is your song. Your time to shine!" Maha yells, though none of us can hear her through the headphones.

Hoorain laughs, a sound that's rare these days but so refreshing to hear. She hesitates for a moment before joining Maha, her movements tentative at first but quickly growing bolder as the music takes over.

I glance at Inaya, who is doing a bizarre combination of head-bobbing and awkward hand movements. "What are you doing?" I ask, though she clearly can't hear me.

She points to her headphones and shouts, "I'm inventing a new dance! It's called Inaya's last dance before her dad kills her"

"It looks like you're swatting invisible flies," I reply, shaking my head but secretly enjoying every bit of this chaos.

Maha suddenly spins toward me, grabbing my arm and twirling me into the center. "Ayra, stop acting like someone's strict mom and dance!"

"I'm not acting like a mom!" I protest, but Maha's already got me swaying to the beat.

"You totally are," Hoorain chimes in, giggling. "But we love you for it."

"Fine," I say, throwing my hands up in mock defeat. "But don't expect me to do anything ridiculous."

Can we skip the part that this ridiculous idea was mine?

Two minutes later, I'm doing something ridiculous—thanks to Maha, of course. She's convinced me to mimic her dramatic Bollywood dance moves, complete with hair flips and exaggerated expressions.

Hoorain, meanwhile, is finally letting loose. She's twirling and laughing, her face glowing under the neon lights. There’s no trace of the sadness that had been weighing her down earlier, and it’s like seeing the old Hoorain come back to life.

Inaya joins her, and together they start a coordinated routine that looks suspiciously like something from a TikTok video. "We're going viral after this!" Inaya declares, though no one can hear her.

As the chorus of "party on my mind" kicks in, we all form a circle, dancing wildly and singing at the top of our lungs—even though no one else can hear us. It's like we're in our own little bubble, untouchable by the world outside.

Maha starts doing an exaggerated slow-motion dance, and we all follow suit, moving as if we're underwater. Inaya pretends to faint dramatically, collapsing into my arms while Hoorain doubles over laughing.

"This is the best night ever!" Maha shouts, though her words are drowned out by the music.

Hoorain suddenly tears up and hugs all of us, "I love you all.. I may not say it often but you guys are the most beautiful part of my entire life"

We all share a tight hug knowing that no matter how cruel the world is.. this is where all that doesn't matter... We girls will always share a bond unparallel.

Maha slaps our back "guys rone thori aye ho Chalo basantis abhi Gabbar ko aur dance dekhna hai"

(Y'all didn't come here to cry. C'mon basantis the Gabbar wants to see more dance)

The music is thumping in my ears, and the world feels like it's spinning in a whirlwind of neon lights and wild laughter. We're all in our element—dancing like no one's watching and pretending the consequences of this sneak-out don't exist. It's probably midnight now and we're dancing around like this is the moment that matters only.

Maha is leading the charge, as usual, throwing her hands in the air and swaying her hips like she's the queen of the dance floor.

"Move over, Bollywood, I'm coming for you!" she declares, spinning so dramatically that her bun opens up.

But then—BAM!—she collides hard with someone.

"OW!" Maha shrieks, rubbing her back. "Who dared to interrupt my majestic moves?" She spins around to glare at the intruder, only to find a man in his late fifties swaying awkwardly to the beat.

Maha's eyes widen. "Budhe uncle jee!” she exclaims, loud enough for all of us to hear through the music. "Thoda umar dekhke kamar hilayein! Yeh Akshay Kumar ki movie nahi hai!"

(Old uncle)

(Please each your age before twerking. This isn't Akshay Kumar's movie)

We all freeze for a moment, stunned into silence, before collapsing into laughter.

"Oh my God, Maha!" I manage to choke out, clutching my stomach. "Did you really just say that to a stranger?"

Maha, however, is unbothered. "Someone had to. What if nachte nachte upar wale ko pyara hojaye? I'd be doing him a favor."

(What If he becomes dear to the God while dancing?)

But then, the man turns slightly, and Hoorain's eyes go as wide as saucers. "Guys... wait."

Inaya peers closer. "No way."

I step forward, squinting to make out his face through the pulsating lights. And then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

"It's the DEAN!" I whisper-shout.

Maha gasps dramatically, nearly dropping her headphones. "WHAT?! You mean... Mr. I don't tolerate unethical students dean of Aurelian!"

"YES," Hoorain hisses, ducking behind me. "The same one who suspended a bunch of students for misbehaving with a professor"

"Mar gaye! Ab to nahi bachenge! Now we all will be suspended and I'll become an heiress to some bulldogs but suicide is also an option" Inaya begins but then she attempts to choke Maha, "mein kyun Maru pehle isse marungi! Kya zarurat thi usse budha bulane ki?!"

(We're dead this time)

(Why would I die first? I'll kill her first. What was the need to call him old?)

"So what else should I call him? Someone who's still breastfed?" Maha laughs gosh can this girl get serious ever.

"Aesa lagta hai sans leti hu to problems atay ho aur Bahar Karti hu to aur ajate hai" Hoorain wails.

(I feel like whenever I inhale, the problems come and whenever I exhale then more problems arrive)

"Don't worry guys we'll do something" I declare attempting to ponder a solution.

For a moment, we all stand frozen like deer caught in headlights. Then chaos breaks loose.

"Hide!" I whisper, yanking Maha behind a group of dancers.

"What do you mean hide?" Maha says, craning her neck to get another look. "Are you sure it's him? He looks different. Maybe he has an evil twin brother?"

"It's him!" Inaya insists, pulling Maha's head down. "Do you want him to recognize us? We'll be expelled faster than you can say 'silent club.'"

Hoorain giggles nervously. "What's he even doing here? Isn't he the one who gave hours long speech on orientation that these discos and all are a way to spread behayai?"

Maha, as usual, refuses to let the situation rest. "Let me take a closer look," she says, dramatically adjusting her headphones over her head like some detective going undercover. She peeks around the dancers, squinting hard.

Suddenly, her face lights up with a mischievous grin. "Ladies," she says, turning back to us, "you're not going to believe this."

"What now?" I ask warily.

Maha smirks, pointing subtly toward the dean. "He's not alone."

We follow her gaze, and sure enough, the dean is swaying awkwardly beside a woman at least thirty years younger than him. She's dressed to the nines, laughing and leaning closer to him as they dance.

"No way," I whisper, my jaw dropping. "Is he... is he CHEATING on his wife?"

Maha claps her hands together, her grin turning downright evil. "Oh, this is too good. Karma, thy name is Maha."

"It can be his sister?" Hoorain chirps.

"Or cousin" Inaya adds.

"Nahi behn aur cousin kay Sath aesi wahyat dance Kaun karta hai?"

(Who dances like this with their cousin and sisters)

Remind me to buy some filters for Maha.

Before any of us can stop her, she pulls out her phone and snaps a photo.

"Maha, are you crazy?" Hoorain hisses. "What if he sees you?"

Maha shrugs, tucking her phone back into her pocket. "Relax. This is just... insurance. Learnt from the best Ayan Ansari that you should have evidence for everything and I'm sure y'all will thank me for this."

"Insurance for what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Maha smirks. "For the next time he tries to lecture us about moral values. I'd love to hear his thoughts on this little rendezvous."

We're all laughing so hard by this point that we have to huddle together to keep from falling over. Inaya wipes tears from her eyes, still giggling. "I can't believe this is our life right now."

"Believe it," I say, catching my breath. "Because this is going to be the best inside joke of our friendship."

Maha winks, raising her headphones in a mock toast. "To sneaking out, silent clubs, and catching our dean living his last moments like this"

"But I'm worried about his wife..I mean murder is acceptable cheating is not" Inaya mutters.

"Ha wakai itni to sir ke paas Zindagi bhi nahi hai jitne rangeen shauk Paal rakhe hai inhone" Maha declares.

(I know right. Sir doesn't even have that long life to fulfill his younger desires)

We all clink our invisible glasses, the laughter echoing in our ears even louder than the music. For the first time in weeks, it feels like everything is perfect—chaotic, ridiculous, and absolutely perfect. Everything with them is.

I stand with my arms crossed, a smug grin plastered on my face as Zaid struggles to lift Ahad's limp body. The man's practically a human bulldozer and yet here I am, making Zaid lift him.

"Careful Zaid" I whisper dramatically. "If he decides to wake up now, you and I are dead"

Zaid groans, his face contorted with effort. "You could help, you know."

I wave him off. "No thanks I can't risk my fragile back."

With a final grunt, Zaid manages to hoist Ahad into the trunk. He lands with a thud that makes the car bounce slightly.

"Ow," I mutter instinctively, even though it's not me who's been tossed like a sack of potatoes. Zaid slams the trunk shut, dusting his hands off with an air of accomplishment.

"Done," he says, panting. "This better be worth it."

"Oh, it is," I reply, climbing into the backseat of the car. "This is the most brilliant plan I've ever concocted."

So let me share my outstanding plan with all of you gorgeous readers. My love Naya informed me that they are in a disco currently with Hoorain and I should bring this hulk with no brains to the place as well so that they both can talk, hug and sort everything.

Ahad was adamant on keeping everything from Hoor but I can't let my best friend spoil my chances of becoming an uncle to blue eyed kids no? May God bless y'all with a friend like me.

Rayan, who's been leaning against the car with his arms crossed, gives me a death glare as he slides into the driver's seat. "Why am I doing this again?"

"Because you love me" I say with a wink.

He snorts. "More like because you blackmailed me with that video of me crying for Maha in my sleep."

I stifle back a chuckle, I love my phone being the weapon against anyone.

"You looked cute in that" I say, waving my hand dismissively.

Zaid climbs into the passenger seat, smirking. "I'm doing this because it's fun. When was the last time we kidnapped someone?"

"Exactly!" I exclaim, leaning forward between the seats. "Think of the stories we'll tell our kids someday. 'Back in my day, we didn't let your uncle Ahad cry for aunt Hoor rather we kidnapped him.'"

Rayan rolls his eyes but starts the car. The engine purrs to life, and we're off.

The Ride

The car hums along the deserted road, and I settle back, grinning like a cat who's just swallowed a canary. The night is alive with possibilities—and the occasional muffled groan from the trunk.

"Think he'll wake up soon?" Zaid asks, glancing over his shoulder.

"I give it ten minutes," I reply, pulling out my phone. "Let's document this glorious journey."

I start recording, turning the camera on myself. "Hello gorgeous readers this is Ayan Ansari, welcome to Operation Lovebird. Our hot biker badboy, Ahad Sikandar, is currently enjoying a five-star nap in the trunk while we chauffeur him to his destiny. Although I know I'm your favorite one but look this hulk looks handsome."

I direct the mobile towards Rayan, "so Mr genius what are your feelings towards this adventure of ours?"

"To destroy your handsome face for irritating me at this hour" he mutters focusing on the road, "if you continue talking then I'm gonna leave the steering."

"No worries at least you agreed I'm handsome." Running a hand through my hair, I record a perfect clip of my face.

From the trunk, there's a faint, muffled noise. I grin. "Oh, did you hear that? Sounds like the man of the hour is waking up."

Rayan groans. "If he starts thrashing and breaks my car, I'm throwing you in the trunk."

"Relax, rhino" I say. "Your precious car is safe."

"At least I've recorded a video for y'all as a proof if anything happens to your dashing Ayan Ansari guys."

A louder thump comes from the trunk, followed by muffled yelling.

Zaid chuckles. "Guys I think he's realized he's been kidnapped."

"Perfect timing," I say, opening the small trunk window and sticking my phone through. "Ahad, buddy! How's it going back there?"

Ahad's face appears, red with anger and confusion. His mouth is wrapped with a scarf, and his eyes are blazing.

"MMMMPHH!" he yells.

I laugh, pulling the phone back to show Zaid and Rayan. "Look at him! He's like an angry burrito."

Rayan shakes his head. "You're insane." But he's laughing and that counts.

"Insanely brilliant," I correct.

Ahad starts thrashing in the trunk, making the car shake slightly.

"Can you not?" Rayan snaps, gripping the wheel tighter.

"Ahad, calm down!" I shout, leaning toward the trunk window again. "We're doing this for your own good!"

Ahad's response is muffled, but I'm pretty sure he just invented a new curse word.

Zaid snickers. "Should we untie him before he gets a concussion back there?"

"Not until we get to the place," I say firmly. "We need him in peak emotional form for this reunion."

The car hits a bump, and Ahad lets out a muffled yell.

"Oops," I say, feigning innocence. "Sorry, buddy. Rayan's driving."

Rayan glares at me through the rearview mirror. "Keep talking, Ayan. See what happens."

Suddenly, Ahad's thrashing stops, and the trunk goes eerily quiet.

"Do you think he passed out again?" Zaid asks.

I shrug. "Only one way to find out."

I open the trunk window again, and Ahad's face is inches from mine, glaring daggers.

"Ah, you're awake!" I say cheerfully. "Ready for your grand adventure?"

Ahad's muffled response is unintelligible, but the fury in his eyes speaks volumes.

"Don't look at me like that," I say, pulling my phone out to record him again. "You'll thank me when you're happily living your life."

Ahad starts kicking the trunk door, and Zaid bursts out laughing.

"This is the best idea you've ever had, Ayan," he says.

"I know," I reply, grinning. "And the night's just getting started."

The car screeches to a halt, jerking me forward and snapping me out of my internal monologue about my greatness. Rayan smirks from the driver's seat, one hand casually on the wheel.

"Oops," he says, far too smug for someone who just drove like he was auditioning for a demolition derby.

"Oops?!" I exclaim, holding onto the seat for dear life. "You've been taking potholes like they're ramps in Need for Speed! My back feels like it's been folded into origami!"

Zaid snorts, clearly enjoying my misery. "Think of it as a free roller coaster ride."

Rayan leans back, unbothered. "If I have to suffer through this idiotic plan, you all are suffering with me."

I glare at him, rubbing my neck. "You're lucky you're cute, Rayan, or you'd have no redeeming qualities."

Rayan rolls his eyes. "Keep talking, Ayan. You're one bump away from joining Ahad in the trunk."

Speaking of which…

I hop out of the car, gesturing dramatically toward the trunk. "Readers, the moment has arrived. Let's wake Sleeping Beauty and escort him to his destiny. Don't forget to share your thoughts on how do you guys think Ahad will react? And yes obviously praise how good of a friend I am. Still then stay safe until our next adventure." I locate my phone back into my pocket.

Zaid laughs, getting out to join me. "I can't wait to see his face when he realizes where we are."

Rayan stays in the driver's seat, arms crossed. "You two have fun. I'm staying here. Someone has to keep the getaway car ready."

"Getaway car?" I snort. "We're not robbing a bank. We're delivering a love story!"

Ignoring Rayan's eye-roll, I turn to Zaid. "Shall we?"

We approach the trunk like it's a treasure chest, and I motion for Zaid to do the honors. I would be lying if I say I'm not afraid to open and reveal Ahad ready to kill me Sikandar.

"You open it," I say, nudging him.

"Why me?" Zaid protests.

"Because I'm the brains of this operation, and you're… the muscle."

Zaid shakes his head but pops the trunk anyway. As it opens, Ahad blinks up at us, his face a mix of exhaustion and pure rage. His mouth is still wrapped in the scarf, though it's slightly askew now.

"Good morning, sunshine!" I chirp, leaning in with a grin.

Ahad's muffled response is something between a growl and a grunt.

"Wow," Zaid says, inspecting him. "He looks like he's been through a tornado."

Ahad tries to sit up, but the confined space makes it awkward, and he ends up glaring at us from his reclined position.

"Let me guess," I say, tapping my chin. "You're wondering why you're here, tied up, in the trunk of a car. Am I right?"

Ahad's eyes narrow.

"Well stop wondering then!" I say, stepping back with a flourish. "All will be revealed in due time. But first, we need to get you inside."

Zaid grabs Ahad's arms, and I take his legs, and together we haul him out of the trunk.

"Careful!" I whisper-yell. "He's not a sack!"

"Feels like one," Zaid grumbles, adjusting his grip.

"For god sake why are y'all so crazy!?" Rayan questions.

"Rayan stop with your irritating why questions for now"

We set Ahad down on his feet, but he immediately starts struggling, his muffled protests getting louder.

"Shh!" I hiss, clamping my hand over the scarf. "Do you want the bouncers to throw us all out?"

Ahad glares at me, but at least he stops thrashing.

"Okay," I say, dusting my hands. "Now we just need to get him inside without causing a scene."

Rayan finally gets out of the car, looking as grumpy as ever. "What's the plan, genius?"

I grin. "Simple. We tell the bouncers he's our extremely drunk friend, and we're taking care of him."

Rayan raises an eyebrow. "And the scarf over his mouth?"

"Fashion statement," I say with a shrug.

Ahad's eyes widenes and his muffled screams escalate, his hands are tied or else we would've been dead by now.

We approach the club, Ahad sandwiched between Zaid and me, his steps reluctant and heavy. Rayan sighs and walks behind us probably wondering of ways to run back.

"Just act natural," I whisper.

Zaid snorts. "Define natural, Ayan. We're dragging a guy who looks like he's been kidnapped."

We reach the bouncer, who eyes us suspiciously.

"Night," I say smoothly. "Just bringing our friend in. He had a bit too much fun pre-partying."

The bouncer looks at Ahad, whose muffled grunts are growing more frantic.

"Uh… what's with the scarf?" the bouncer asks.

I flash my most charming smile. "Oh, that. It's a TikTok trend. You know how it is with kids these days."

The bouncer looks unconvinced but waves us in.

The club is alive with neon lights and people dancing with headphones on though all I can hear is. Ahad looks around, his confusion evident even through his gag.

"Welcome to paradise!" I yell over the music.

Ahad's muffled response is definitely not a thank you.

We drag him to a corner booth and sit him down.

"Alright," I say, removing the scarf from his mouth. "Here's the deal. You're here for a reason, and that reason is—"

"To kill you," Ahad interrupts, glaring at me. Zaid offers him a drink and winks at me... Oh I thought I was the only mastermind but here Mirza is ahead of me... it's a drink so that he can share his emotions with her without any barrier. Like Kya mazaak Banaya hua hai? Betho baat karo and solve ye yaha devdas bana hua hai aur wo paro.

(What is this joke going on? He's sitting here like devdas and her like paro)

Ahad glares at us with a mixture of confusion and irritation as Zaid places a suspiciously colorful drink in front of him. As

"What is this?" Ahad asks, his tone clipped.

"A peace offering," Zaid says smoothly, leaning back with a grin that screams mischief.

Ahad's eyes narrow. "I don't drink."

Zaid shrugs nonchalantly. "It's just juice. Relax. We figured you might need something to calm your nerves since you're glaring at us like we ran over your pet."

I can barely keep the smirk off my face as Ahad eyes the drink suspiciously. "Yeah bro Sip it. Loosen up. Right now, you look like you're about to give a TED Talk on misery."

"Shut up, Ayan," Ahad mutters, but he picks up the glass anyway.

The moment he takes a sip, his face twists in confusion. "This… this tastes weird. What's in this?"

Zaid waves him off. "Grandma's recipe drink it."

Ahad, probably too tired to argue, downs the glass in one go, slamming it on the table like he's making a point.

It takes about five minutes.

Five minutes before Ahad, our typically broody and composed Ahad, starts showing signs that the "juice" wasn't quite what he thought it was.

He blinks slowly, his usually sharp eyes glazing over. "You know what?" he slurs, his voice louder than it's ever been. "You guys are… are the worst. The absolute worst!"

I burst out laughing, slapping the table. "Oh, here we go!"

Ahad points a wobbly finger at me. "And you! Ayan! Always with the plans. Always dragging me into your… your nonsense."

Zaid, the evil genius, hides his grin behind his hand. "We're trying to help you, bro."

"Help?" Ahad scoffs, swaying slightly in his seat. "You call this help? You shoved me in a trunk! A trunk, Zaid! Do you even know how many crime documentaries start like that?"

I'm practically doubled over at this point, tears forming in my eyes. "Relax, Ahad. We're not serial killers. We're your saviors!"

Ahad leans forward, his expression suddenly solemn. "You're the reason I need saving in the first place."

He grabs Rayan's arm, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper—well, as much as a drunk whisper can be. "Rayan. Rayan. Do you know what hurts the most?"

Zaid raises an eyebrow. "What?"

Ahad slams his hand on the table. "My heart! It's broken. Shattered. Into a million pieces."

I howl with laughter, while Zaid pats Ahad's shoulder with mock sympathy. "There, there. We'll glue it back together."

Ahad glares at him, his finger jabbing the air dramatically. "Don't patronize me, Mirza. You think you're so smart with your secret drinks and your winks. But you don't know pain!"

Zaid looks at me, and we both lose it, clutching our sides as Ahad devolves into a rambling monologue about love, betrayal, and the cruelty of the universe.

"Okay, okay," I say, wiping my tears. "This is gold. Absolute gold. But focus, Ahad. You need to talk to her."

"To who?" Ahad asks, squinting at me like I'm a mirage.

"Hoorain," I say, sitting forward. "You need to tell her how you feel."

Ahad slumps back in his seat, shaking his head dramatically. "No. No way. She hates me. She probably thinks I'm some… some villain from a bad romance novel."

"Well, you kind of are," Zaid says, earning a drunken glare from Ahad.

"But you can change the narrative!" I insist. "Be a man and tell her you're there."

Ahad groans, covering his face with his hands. "I can't. I won't. Take me back. I demand to be taken back!"

Zaid leans in, smirking. "You're not going anywhere, buddy. Not until you grow a spine and tell her how you feel."

Ahad grumbles something incoherent but ultimately pulls out his phone.

"Fine," he mutters, his fingers fumbling as he grips the glass. "But if this backfires, I'm blaming both of you."

I blame the drink for his agreement.

I've messaged Inaya and Hoor will be here anytime now... I hope he shares everything with her and they patch up.

The soft murmur of distant music reaches me faintly as I stand in the secluded corner where Inaya left me. The air feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and emotions I've tried so hard to suppress. She had been adamant, her tone oddly urgent, asking me to wait here. But now I'm alone, surrounded by shadows and silence, the faint glow of fairy lights above casting gentle patterns on the ground.

I enjoyed the best of my life tonight but you know when you're alone, you're bound to feel shallow.

My heart feels like it's in a vise, memories pressing down on me. No matter how hard I try to push them away, his face keeps creeping into my mind—those dark, intense eyes, the way they used to look at me as if I were the only thing in the world. But that was before. Before everything fell apart. Before the misunderstandings tore us apart.

And then, I see him.

He stumbles into view, and my breath catches, my pulse thundering in my ears. Ahad.

He looks different, disheveled. His usually crisp posture is gone, replaced by unsteady steps, and his shirt is rumpled as if he doesn't care anymore. But it's his eyes that hold me captive. Those dark, soulful eyes, now glassy and red, shimmering with tears.

He stops abruptly when he sees me. For a moment, he just stares, his gaze raw and unguarded. It's like the world pauses. His lips part, and I hear him whisper, almost as if he can't believe it, "Hoorain… it's you?"

My throat tightens, and I take a shaky step back. "Ahad… what are you doing here?" My voice barely comes out.

He sways slightly, catching himself on the edge of a wooden pillar, and takes a step closer. His movements are unsteady, his body language vulnerable in a way I've never seen before. "You... you're real," he murmurs, his voice slurred but full of emotion. "I thought I lost you... forever."

I freeze as his trembling hands reach out and cup my cheeks before pausing as If to gain my permission which I did give him. His touch is warm, but his fingers tremble so much that it feels like he's afraid I'll disappear. His face is close now, and I can smell the faint scent of alcohol mixed with his cologne.

"Hoor…" he stutters, his voice breaking. "You're here… I've been searching... everywhere. But you..." His voice cracks, and I see a tear roll down his cheek.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure, but my voice is shaky. "Ahad, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here. What are you even doing here, you'll get hurt Ahad. You shouldn't be here"

"I shouldn't be anywhere you're not," he replies, his words slurred but heartbreakingly sincere. His gaze bores into mine, and I feel exposed, like he's peeling away every defense I've built.

He exhales shakily. "Do you know... how empty it feels, Hoorain? Waking up... knowing I pushed you away? I'm... so sorry. So damn sorry."

Tears sting my eyes, but I try to keep them at bay. "You don't mean that," I whisper, my voice trembling. "It wasn't your fault, I should've stayed there and told you that I'm not giving up on you, I should've heard everything you had to say."

His grip on my face tightens slightly, as if he's afraid I'll disappear. "You? Not giving up on me?" He lets out a bitter laugh, stumbling slightly but keeping his hold on me. "Hoorain, you've always been stronger than me. I was the coward who… closed the door. I couldn't expect you to forget your PTSD, the trauma and everything"

My heart clenches painfully at his words, I hate my name Hoorain from his mouth when I'm his Hoor. I clutch his shirt, my hands trembling. "You can complain, Ahad. Yell at me, blame me, but… do you still love me?"

His lips part, and he nods, tears streaming down his face. "I… I love you, Hoorain. I never stopped. Even if my life is being demanded as an offering by your separation."

His knees buckle slightly, and I instinctively hold him steady, my fingers gripping his collar tightly. "You closed that door, Ahad, where I was locked" I cry, my voice breaking. "But there's more to your story, isn't there? You're not telling me everything. Tell me, Ahad."

His entire body shudders, and his eyes squeeze shut, more tears spilling down his cheeks. "Yes," he whispers hoarsely. "There's more. There's so much more. But I can't tell you, Hoor. I can't… because if I do, you'll forget your own pain. You'll stay with me just because I've suffered, and I… I can't do that to you. I won't force you, Hoorain. You love me? I love you. And if you don't…" His voice cracks. "It's okay. I'll keep loving you."

My chest heaves as sobs wrack my body. His words break me in ways I didn't think possible. "You… you're leaving something out, Ahad. Don't lie to me. Tell me what's that something you're not telling me! Enough with this thinking about me bullshit," I whisper, clutching his collar tighter.

He stumbles back, his hands falling to his sides. His voice is shaky but firm. "You don't need to worry about me, Hoor. I'm leaving the university."

Wait what?! That wasn't what I asked?

"What?" My voice comes out louder than I expect, and panic grips me. "You're leaving? No. No, Ahad. You can't. You can't just—"

"I have to," he interrupts, his voice trembling. "I've hurt you enough. I can't… I can't keep being a reminder of your pain."

My sobs become uncontrollable, my body shaking as tears stream down my face. The thought of him leaving, of never seeing him again, feels unbearable. "Ahad, no!" I cry, clutching my chest as the pain becomes too much.

Even in his drunken state, he hesitates, his hands hovering in the air as if he wants to comfort me but knows he shouldn't. His eyes, filled with agony, meet mine. And then, to my utter shock, he drops to his knees in front of me.

This man, the one I've seen fight the world with unwavering confidence, is now broken, vulnerable, crying at my feet.

"Hoor…" His voice is barely a whisper. "Hoorain, please don't cry. I can't… I can't console you. I promise… I promise I'll never show you my face again. I love you. I love you so much, but I can't keep hurting you even if it kills myself"

"Ahad, stop—" I choke on my words, trying to reach for him, but he stands abruptly, stumbling backward.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, tears streaming down his face as he turns and walks away, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

I fall to the ground, my knees hitting the dirt as I cry uncontrollably, watching him disappear into the darkness. His words echo in my mind, tearing me apart piece by piece.

"I love you…"

I'm gripping the wheel tight, trying my best to stay focused on the road, but the chaos in the backseat is making it impossible. Ahad, the normally serious, stoic guy, is now a complete mess—clutching tissues like they're his lifeline, wiping his face like someone who's just been hit with an emotional hurricane. The poor guy is completely drunk, and it's honestly hard not to laugh.

Ayan, of course, is having the time of his life. He's got his phone in hand, recording every moment like he's about to win an Oscar for "Best Dramatic Performance." He zooms in on Ahad's face, laughing his head off. "Bro this is insane will play this on your wedding" he teases, holding the phone up in front of Ahad's face like he's trying to catch every tear.

Ahad's eyes are red and glossy, and his voice is wobbly as he mutters, "Why... why did I leave her man? She was... She was the best for me... I... I swear I was..."

I look in the rearview mirror, trying to suppress my laughter. "Dude, you're barely coherent right now," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe you should sleep this off. And Ayan stop recording everything for god sake"

But he's not hearing it. Instead, he pulls another tissue from the pack—probably the tenth in the last five minutes—and dabs at his eyes like he's in the middle of an emotional opera. "I'm... I'm a mess..." he sniffles.

I glance at Ayan, who's practically snorting from the back seat, eyes wide with laughter. "And who's fault is it?," he says, like he's witnessing some once-in-a-lifetime performance. "Ahad she was the best for you but it's you who is pushing her"

Zaid, who's in the front passenger seat, rolls his eyes dramatically. "Y'all sent him on a mission to fix things with Hoorain, and this is what we get after I picked up this sumo wrestler all the way through the mansion to this trunk? Zaleel ko jis kaam ke liye bheja, wo to bigaar kar aaya," he mutters under his breath. "What a mess."

I can't help it. I chuckle, even though I know I shouldn't. Ahad looks so out of it, I can't even be mad at him. He's probably the cutest drunk mess I've ever seen. He's clutching the tissues with such intensity, as if they're going to save him from whatever heartbreak he's convinced himself he's experiencing right now.

And then the music changes—loud, thumping beats fill the car, and the familiar intro of "Bewafa Bewafa" blares through the speakers. Ayan's face lights up. "Oh, this is perfect! Ahad, you're about to be the star of this music video, my friend!"

He starts singing along dramatically, like he's auditioning for some Bollywood movie, and I'm over here driving with one hand while trying to avoid crashing from all the chaos happening in the backseat.

Ahad's head falls back against the headrest, his sobs mixing with the song. "Why... why is love so... so cruel?" he slurs, half-dazed. "I didn't deserve this, man... I swear. I won't even close my bathroom door ever"

I glance at him in the rearview mirror again. "Dude that's a bad idea" I say with a sigh, trying my best not to laugh. "You want me to pull over and let you do whatever you want or...?"

Ayan, of course, keeps egging him on. "Yeah, do it, man. You'll make history. We'll be on the news. Ahad Sikandar, the tragic lover who cried his heart out on 'Bewafa Bewafa.' It'll be iconic."

Zaid, ever the realist, slumps against his seat. "This is exactly why we shouldn't have let Ayan make the plans. He's the mastermind of disaster."

I roll my eyes, trying to steer the car without crashing into anything as the ridiculousness continues. But then, I feel it—despite the chaos and absurdity of this whole situation, I'm actually having a good time. Maybe it's the loud music, the bad singing, the ridiculousness of our messed-up plans—but for once, everything's just fun. Ahad's breakdown, though absolutely hilarious, is also just a reminder that we're all kind of a mess. And that's okay.

Ahad suddenly goes silent, staring at the window, his face slackened, still holding his tissues. "I should've never let her go... I should've—"

"Dude," I interrupt, "you've had enough drama for one night. Just... chill. And let us get you back on track, okay?"

He looks at me like I'm the voice of reason. "Do you think... do you think I could get her back? Hoorain?" he asks in this vulnerable voice that almost makes me feel bad for him.

I glance over at Ayan, who's still recording, shaking his head, but there's this glint in his eyes like he's already thinking of ways to help Ahad. "Well," I say with a half-smile, "let's see if we can at least get you back to normal first before worrying about Hoorain."

Ahad nods like he's processing everything—slowly but surely—and I can't help but laugh. Even if he's a mess right now, it's not forever. Right?

Thankfully I was able to find Hoorain in time and control the situation. After we calmed Hoorain and explained to her that we won't let everything fall for her.... We are now trying to get back inside the hostel.

We're crouched behind the hostel wall, my heart pounding like a drum in a death metal band. What kind of life choices led me to this moment? Oh, right—Maha's brilliant idea that jumping over the wall would be less risky than sneaking through the main entrance.

"This is it, girls. We've made it, we enjoyed the entire night now we need to enter our rooms" Maha whispers from above me, wobbling precariously on my shoulders.

"Shut up and balance!" I hiss, my knees trembling under her weight. Ayra, standing beside me and carrying Hoorain on her own shoulders, groans audibly.

"If either of you breaks my spine," Ayra mutters, "you'll be paying my hospital bills for life."

Hoorain, trying to balance on Ayra's shoulders, whispers nervously, "I think I can see the ground on the other side. We're almost there!"

Almost there, my foot. My thighs are burning, my dignity is nonexistent, and I'm about two seconds away from dropping Maha and blaming gravity.

Finally, Maha gives the signal. "Alright, girls, on three. One, two—"

The world suddenly goes bright as a blinding light flashes in our direction. For a second, I think we've hit the gates of heaven. But no.

"Seems like we've been caught." I mutter.

"You are absolutely right Meri jaan" Maha wails pushing her weight against my shoulders.

"Now what?" Hoorain asks.

"Now lady virus will decide what happens." Ayra replies.

"Ab tum mujahideen Kay Sath Jo mein karungi na wo anay waali naslein yaad rakhengi" the warden screams in her unpleasant voice.

(Now what I will do with you revivalists will be remembered by the generations)

"Now she'll continue for hours uhhh someone please give me cotton to fill my ears?" Maha mutters.

"Shut up! Maha!"

"You all should know that whenever crows like you decide to flee the prison of Madhubala, I catch them break of their beaks!" She laughs, "c'mon beta Harmain capture this frame in your camera."

We can hear the click of the camera and for once I wish I can break that person's nose.

"Kasam se agar Madhubala zinda Hoti to zeher kha Kay marjaati isse dekh ke"

(I swear if Madhubala was alive now she would've committed suicide after looking at her)

"Maha please we're stuck here we can't afford your world class commentary"

"Okay, now turn around one by one," lady virus orders, I can picture her flashing the kind of grin you see right before villains execute their evil plans.

Maha, in true Maha fashion, raises her hand. "Madhubala Ma'am, can I just say something before we turn?"

The warden squints suspiciously. "What?"

"She'll get us killed" Ayra mutters under her breath.

Maha grips her hand to the wall. "Ma'am, you're so radiant and beautiful, we're mentally preparing ourselves to look into your mesmerizing eyes without getting blinded."

Ayra lets out a barely-contained groan, and I hit my head to the wall lightly, I should just throw her off my shoulders right now. This girl was born without a survival instinct.

Madhubala Ma'am narrows her eyes. "Beta, is this flattery or another attempt to distract me from the fact that you're all nothing but escaped zoo animals?!"

"Zoo animals?!" Maha repeats, pretending to look offended. "Ma'am, we're exotic birds at the very least."

"Exotic birds? Tum toh charbi waale pigeons ho!" Madhubala snaps, her flashlight now blinding poor Hoorain.

(You're pigeons with fat)

Ayra sighs. "Just turn, Maha. Save us all."

Maha adjusts her hair, takes a deep breath, gets down, and turns around with the confidence of someone walking the Met Gala red carpet.

Madhubala squints at her. "Ah, Maha Aamir The troublemaker. Every time I see you, I ask myself: Yeh ladki hostel mein padhai karne aayi hai ya mujhe blood pressure dene?"

(This girl came here to study or to increase my blood pressure)

The crowd behind her erupts into laughter. Maha smiles sarcastically and whispers. "Currently I feel my blood pressure shooting"

"Maha Aamir k Liye taaliya"

(Clappings for Maha Aamir)

"Next!" Madhubala barks, and Ayra stiffens.

"I'm not going," Ayra mutters, clutching my arm.

"Go!" I hiss, pushing her lightly.

Ayra spins around reluctantly, her shoulders squared like she's marching into a battlefield.

Madhubala Ma'am tilts her head. "Haan, Ayra. Hostel ki Einstein. Tumhari wajah se mere brain cells retire ho gaye hain. Tumhein toh main hostel sneaking ka award dilwati hu."

(Because of you my brain cells are retired. Wait I'll get you a PhD paward for hostel sneaking. )

Ayra grits her teeth but says nothing, though I can see the mental notes she's taking to roast Maha for getting her into this mess.

"Next!"

It's my turn. I hesitantly pivot, fully expecting a barrage of insults.

"Inaya," Madhubala says, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "The quiet one. But don't think I don't know—silent rivers run deep. Tumhari innocence ek badi acting hai."

(Your innocence is a deep acting)

I blink. That's… weirdly accurate.

"And last but not least," she booms, "can you show us your beautiful face the last lady?"

Hoorain looks like she might faint. "I just want to go to bed," she whispers to me as she turns back around.

"HOORAIN SHAH! y..you as well?" Shock feigns her expressions.

Madhubala steps back, her arms raised like a ringmaster introducing her circus act. "Clap for them, everyone! The queens of badmaashi! The champions of stupidity! Kya performance di hai inhone aaj!"

The entire crowd claps—half of them genuinely entertained, the other half too scared to defy Madhubala.

As we shuffle back toward the hostel, heads hung low, Maha mutters, "Well, at least she called us queens."

Ayra groans. "I'm going to turn you into a queen of silence once we're alone."

Despite the humiliation, I stifle a laugh. Because let's face it—this will make a hilarious story someday. Someday far, far away from Madhubala Ma'am's wrath.

For now we need to worry about us getting suspended.

(⁠๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑⁠)

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