Sufiyan ne aaj salon ka darwaza nahi khola. Wo andhere kamre mein baitha apni purani sunehri kainchi (Golden Scissors) ko dekh raha tha, jiski chamak ab dhundli pad chuki thi. Bahar Ritika darwaza khatkhatati rahi, "Sufiyan, utho! Aaj London competition ki final list aani hai. Humein taiyari karni hai." Sufiyan ne andar se hi chillakar kaha, "Chali jao Ritika! London, fame, paisa... ye sab mujhe nahi chahiye. Mujhe mera wo purana sukoon chahiye jo Suhaliya ke saath tha."
Ritika wahi darwaze ke bahar baith gayi. Use yaad aaya ki kaise usne Sufiyan ko uski purani yaadon ka wasta dekar Suhaliya se door kiya tha. Usne socha tha ki Sufiyan ko pa kar wo khush rahegi, lekin Sufiyan ki ye khamoshi usey andar se kha rahi rahi thi. Wo salon jo kabhi hasi-mazak se goonjta tha, aaj ek qabristaan jaisa lag raha tha. Sufiyan ne aaine par kapda daal diya kyunki use usme ab apna chehra nahi, balki apni galti dikhayi deti thi. [System Alert: Creative Energy at 5%. Warning: Talent at risk of permanent loss.] Sufiyan ko ehsas hua ki usne apni kamyabi ki keemat apne sabse sacche rishte ko kho kar chukai hai.