The school annual day was around the corner, and rehearsals had taken over the usual classroom chaos. Students rushed through hallways in traditional outfits, carrying props, papers, and nervous energy.
Eisha had signed up for the backstage team—away from the limelight, away from Ayaan.
Ayaan, of course, was one of the anchors this year. The mic suited him. Confidence looked good on him.
Eisha avoided him like a silent rule.
But fate, as always, had different plans.
That day, one of the main props—a large wooden peacock—broke just before final rehearsal. Eisha, as part of the logistics group, was assigned to fix it urgently.
She carried it to the back storage room beside the auditorium, dusty and dimly lit.
As she struggled to tape its broken neck, she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned sharply.
It was Ayaan.
Both froze.
The silence was thick, awkward.
"I was sent to get the anchor cards," he said, not meeting her eyes.
She nodded and went back to fixing the prop, hands trembling just a little.
But the silence refused to stay silent.
A few seconds later, he spoke again.
"You're really avoiding me, huh?"
She didn't respond.
He sighed. "Is that how it's going to be now?"
Still nothing.
A moment passed before Eisha finally muttered, "Why did you change?"
Ayaan blinked. "Change?"
"You used to tell me everything. Every stupid joke. Every little thing that annoyed you. Now… it's like you've locked me out."
His voice softened. "And you didn't? You pulled away, Eish. You shut me out first."
Her hands paused mid-fix.
"I was scared," she whispered.
"Scared of what?"
Her voice cracked. "Of losing you."
That stunned silence between them wasn't silence anymore. It was a scream waiting to be heard.
Ayaan stepped closer, slowly. "You think I'm not scared too?"
Their eyes finally met. No more acting. No more pretending.
"You think seeing you with Rohit every day didn't bother me?" he continued. "You think I liked watching you walk past me like I was invisible?"
Tears welled in Eisha's eyes.
"I thought you didn't care anymore…"
He laughed, a bitter, broken laugh. "I cared too much. That's the problem."
And then, it happened.
She broke.
A single sob escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Ayaan panicked. "Hey—Eisha, don't cry—"
But she was already covering her face, tears slipping through.
Without thinking, he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.
Tight. Desperate. Familiar.
Her face buried in his shoulder as he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Please… let's not do this to each other."
She clung to his shirt, the months of unspoken pain melting in that moment.
They didn't say "I love you."
They didn't need to.
But something had changed again—this time, not into distance…
…but into understanding.
Outside, the bell rang.
But inside that storage room, time had stopped—for two best friends who were finally learning how to be more than that,even if neither of them had the courage to say it aloud yet.