Morning arrived quietly, the kind that pretended nothing was wrong. Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, painting soft gold lines across the room, but Haniya had been awake long before the light found her. She lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of the dorm slowly coming to life—footsteps in the corridor, a door creaking open, distant laughter that felt oddly out of place.
Something had shifted. She could feel it in her chest, a low, constant pressure that refused to leave.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table.
She didn't need to check the screen to know what it was about.
When she finally picked it up, notifications flooded in—clips, edits, slowed videos, captions filled with speculation. The footage from the party had spread faster than anyone expected. Aayan laughing, Haniya standing beside him, the angle just right to invite assumptions. Comparisons followed immediately.
Aayan or Aarav?
Same blood, different aura.
Who's the real star?
Haniya exhaled slowly and locked the screen.
Downstairs, breakfast was already in progress. Vivaan and Harsh were arguing loudly over something trivial, their voices overlapping in chaotic harmony. Kashvi sat quietly at the table, stirring her tea without drinking it, her eyes flicking up the moment Haniya entered.
"You saw it too, didn't you?" Kashvi asked softly.
Haniya nodded once and took the seat beside her. "It was bound to happen."
Vivaan leaned over the table. "What was bound to happen?"
"The internet losing its mind," Harsh replied before anyone else could. "It's like oxygen to them."
Aarav arrived last. The room shifted the second he stepped in—not loudly, not dramatically, but noticeably. His eyes went straight to Haniya, scanning her face the way he always did when something was wrong. She gave him a small nod, a silent I'm fine, though neither of them truly believed it.
"So," Vivaan said, scrolling through his phone, "apparently Aayan and Aarav are being compared like rival brands now."
Harsh snorted. "As if that makes sense."
Aarav didn't react immediately. He poured himself coffee, calm as ever. "People compare what they don't understand."
Haniya glanced at him. He met her gaze briefly, steady and reassuring.
The calm didn't last long.
By afternoon, whispers had turned into questions. During practice, teammates exchanged looks. Some were curious, some awkward, some plainly intrusive. Reyansh's words from the party replayed in everyone's mind—they're siblings—and now people wanted answers they weren't entitled to.
Coach called for a break, and as the team dispersed, Aarav found Haniya near the edge of the field.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She shrugged. "Depends on the definition."
He almost smiled. Almost. "You don't owe anyone explanations."
"I know," she said. "But that doesn't stop them from asking."
Across the field, Aayan stood with Reyansh, both watching the scene unfold with unsettling ease. When Haniya looked their way, Aayan lifted his hand in a casual wave, as if this chaos amused him.
Later that evening, the team gathered in the common area. The mood was strange—too light for the tension beneath it.
Vivaan finally voiced what everyone else was thinking. "So… are we allowed to ask questions