The charity gala had ended hours ago, but Kiara couldn't shake the image of Aarav from her mind—the quiet confidence, the way his eyes softened when he spoke about his work. It was rare to meet someone who wasn't dazzled by her fame, someone who looked at her like she was… human.
Two days later, Kiara found herself scrolling through articles about aerospace research. She smiled at the irony—an actress reading about satellites and propulsion systems. But curiosity had its grip on her now.
Her phone buzzed. Rhea, her manager, appeared on the screen.
"Kiara, you're trending again," Rhea said, voice sharp. "That picture from the gala—people are speculating about you and some 'mystery man.'"
Kiara laughed softly. "Mystery man has a name. Aarav Mehta."
Rhea groaned. "Please tell me he's not another actor."
"He's an aerospace engineer," Kiara replied, her tone tinged with pride. "He builds satellites."
There was a pause. "Of course he does," Rhea muttered. "Just… be careful. You know how the media spins things."
Kiara ended the call, her thoughts already elsewhere. She opened Instagram and typed his name. His profile was private, but his company page wasn't. A recent post caught her eye: 'Seeking investors for India's first privately developed satellite project.'
Her heart skipped. He needed help.
Later that evening, Kiara dialed a number she had gotten from a mutual friend. When Aarav answered, his voice was calm, steady—like the man she remembered.
"Kiara Kapoor," he said, amusement lacing his tone. "To what do I owe this honor?"
"I read about your project," she began, trying to sound casual. "It's… incredible. You're building a satellite?"
"Yes," Aarav replied. "It's a communications satellite. If we succeed, it'll change rural connectivity in India."
Kiara's admiration deepened. "That's amazing. Aarav, if funding is an issue, I can—"
"No." His answer was firm, almost too quick. "I appreciate the offer, but I can't accept your help."
Kiara blinked, surprised. "Why not?"
"Because this project has to stand on its own merit," he said quietly. "Not on someone's fame or charity."
His words stung, but they also intrigued her. Aarav wasn't like the men she knew—no flattery, no hidden agendas. Just pride and principle.
"I wasn't offering charity," she said softly. "I was offering support."
There was silence on the line, then a sigh. "Kiara… I can't mix worlds. Yours is full of lights and cameras. Mine is equations and deadlines. They don't fit."
Her chest tightened. "Maybe they do," she whispered, but he had already changed the subject.
That night, Kiara stood on her balcony, staring at the stars. Somewhere out there, Aarav was chasing his dream, and for reasons she couldn't explain, she wanted to be part of it—even if he kept pushing her away.
And so, the distance between them wasn't just physical. It was a chasm of pride, ambition, and fear. But Kiara had never been one to give up easily.
Tomorrow, she decided, she would find a way to bridge that gap.