Aryan's successful run continued, but his heart had been jolted back to life by the phone number. His focus now was split: excel academically while constantly debating when to use that key. The impatience was torture. Why can't that someday be this day? His success felt hollow when the reward remained out of reach.
This internal distraction surfaced at the worst time. He was elected Vice-Captain of his football team, and a major tournament was looming. His usual sharp focus was replaced by an emotional cloud, jeopardizing his performance—and his team's chance at the finals.
The Rivi Diversion
It was Rivi who stepped in. Not as a competitor, but as a surprisingly intuitive friend. Recognizing the slump in his star student rival, she made it her responsibility to pull him out of his fog. She started seeking him out, engaging him in sharp, witty banter, and friendly teasing.
Aryan found himself drawn to her closeness. Rivi was witty, intelligent, and present—everything Ayra wasn't right now. He needed a distraction, and Rivi offered a tangible, immediate warmth. He confessed his confused feelings of attraction to his friend, Sajin, who encouraged the connection: "Go for it, Aryan. You need a break."
Rivi, too, wrestled with her feelings. She admired his ambition, his mind, and his unexpected kindness. The competitive edge between them had blurred into something deeper. Soon, she confessed her feelings. Aryan, relieved to accept the warmth and believing he could build something real, accepted her proposal without hesitation.
Their relationship started strong. But as the days turned into weeks, the closeness began to feel like a performance. Rivi was wonderful, but she was not Ayra. Aryan was haunted by the conviction that his heart was already reserved, a seat permanently taken.
He was waiting for an impossible feeling—the effortless synchronization, the silent understanding he shared with Ayra—and it was absent with Rivi. No one could replace the girl who was the blueprint for his deepest desires.
The realization was painful but necessary. He sat Rivi down, choosing honesty over comfortable deception.
"Rivi," he began, the words thick with regret, "I can't continue this. It isn't fair to you."
He looked into her hurt eyes. "I don't feel free. I'm still waiting for Ayra. My heart... it just doesn't want to give that position to anyone else. It's not your fault; you deserve someone who is completely yours."
The relationship ended. The pursuit of his career, which was now inextricably linked to the search for Ayra, began again.
The Poisoned Atmosphere
The breakup, however, had immediate, bitter consequences. Rivi felt betrayed, not just by the rejection, but by the public humiliation of being cast aside for a ghost from his past. Her sadness hardened into a cruel resolve. She still respected Aryan's image, his "brand," and his success, but she now wanted to erase his emotional power.
Aryan didn't pay it much mind; his attention was already shifting to his exams and the looming winter break. He believed he could face any challenge head-on.
The Girl in Blue
The winter vacation finally arrived. Back in his hometown, the silence of his room amplified his yearning. He sought out Ina again.
"Is Ayra home for the holidays?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Ina promised to check. Two days later, his phone buzzed. She's here.
The meeting was arranged for the local park, a neutral territory. Aryan arrived early, pacing nervously, his seven years of success, fame, and confidence dissolving into the awkwardness of a fourteen-year-old boy. He, the state topper and orator, was reduced to a speechless, sweating mess.
Then she appeared.
She was wearing a blue dress, his favorite color—a coincidence that felt like a divine sign. Her appearance was a beautiful collision of the past and the present. .
"Aryan?" Ayra's voice was softer, more mature, but the familiar sweetness was undeniable.
The feeling was electric: a dizzying cocktail of excitement, happiness, shyness, and a profound sense of achievement.He had done it. He had built the pillar, and it had brought him back to her. But the words he had rehearsed for years—the clever, triumphant speeches—were arrested in his mouth.
"Ayra," he managed, the name feeling too big, too important.
For the next few days, the world belonged only to them. They talked for hours, walking through familiar streets, Ayra getting closer, laughing at his old jokes, sharing stories of her university life. Aryan felt reborn. Her smiles, her caring manner—it played like a movie reel in his mind, even when they parted.
He yearned to confess everything, to tell her about the seven years of searching, the ambition driven by her memory, the broken relationships. But the fear was crippling: What if she feels uncomfortable? What if she distances herself again?
He chose the safe path: growing closer as a best friend and well-wisher.
To his astonishment, Ayra mirrored him perfectly. They had so much in common—the way of thinking, their favorite things, their approach to life. But it was her care for him that truly melted his resolve.
The Looming Conflict
The holidays ended too quickly. Both returned to their respective cities and colleges, carrying an immense emotional weight. Ayra's burden might have been lighter, the simple weight of missing a new, dear friend. Aryan's was the crushing weight of unconfessed love.
Back at his college, focused now on his final push for exams, Aryan sought out his old friends. But the atmosphere was poisoned. Sajin was distant. The usual banter was replaced by cold silence.
"What's going on?" Aryan asked Sajin.
"I'm not in the mood to talk, Aryan," Sajin replied flatly, refusing eye contact.
The puzzle pieces clicked into place: his friends, already resentful of his fame, were now likely influenced by Rivi's bitterness. A social war was being waged against him.
The crisis made his priorities starkly clear.
"My major power is about to collapse," the thought raced through his mind. "If Ayra knows I'm upset, she will be too. I need to fix this without dragging her into it."
Then came the ultimate realization, the one that cemented his loyalty: "What if, in the future, I have to choose between my friends and Ayra? No matter the challenge, I choose Ayra. They may be in my life so far, but Ayra is my life. I won't leave her."
With his purpose reaffirmed, Aryan compartmentalized the brewing conflict. He had only a few days left before the exams. The politics and the plotting could wait. His focus had to remain on his studies, the ultimate tool that had brought him back to his Queen.